GIFT  OF 
Irene  Hudson 


THE 


A  LH  AMBR  A. 


BY 


WASHINGTON    IRVING 


CHICAGO,    NEW   YORK,    AND    SAN   FRANCISCO: 
BELFORD,    CLARKE   &   CO., 


PUBLISHERS. 


GFFTOF 


DEDICATION. 


TO  DAVID  WILKIE,    ESQ.,    R.A.  7 

MY  DEAR  SIR:  -You  may  remember  that,  in  the  course  of  the 
rambles  we  once  took  together  about  some  of  the  old  cities  of 
Spain,  particularly  Toledo  and  Seville,  we  frequently  r«marked 
the  mixture  of  the  Saracenic  with  the  Gothic,  remaining  from 
the  time  of  the  Moors,  and  were  more  than  once  struck  with 
incidents  and  scenes  in  the  streets,  that  brought  to  mind  pas 
sages  in  the  "  Arabian  Nights."  You  then  urged  me  to  write 
something  illustrative  of  these  peculiarities ;  ' '  something  in  the 
Haroun  Alraschid  style,"  that  should  have  a  dash  of  that  Ara 
bian  spice  which  pervades  every  thing  in  Spain.  I  call  this  to 
mind  to  show  you  that  you  are,  in  some  degree,  responsible  for 
the  present  work ;  in  which  I  have  given  a  few  "Arabesque" 
sketches  and  tales,  taken  from  the  life,  or  founded  on  local  tra 
ditions,  and  mostly  struck  off  during  a  residence  in  one  of  the 
most  legendary  and  Morisco-Spanish  places  of  the  Peninstila- 

I  inscribe  this  work  to  you,  as  a  memorial  of  the  pleasant 
scenes  we  have  witnessed  together,  in  that  land  of  adventure, 
and  as  a  testimony  of  an  esteem  for  your  worth,  winch  ecu 
only  be  exceeded  by  admiration  of  your  talents. 

Your  friend  and  fellow  traveller 

THE  AUTHOR. 


M  7492 


THE   ALHAMBRA. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGK 

DEDICATION 3 

THE  JOURNEY , 7 

GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA 20 

INTERIOR  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA 22 

THE  TOWER  OF  COMAHES  28 

REFLECTIONS  ON  THE  MOSLEM  DOMINATION  IN  SPAIN 32 

THE  HOUSEHOLD « 35 

THE  TRUANT 38 

THE  AUTHOR'S  CHAMBER 41 

THE  ALHAMBRA  BY  MOONLIGHT  45 

INHABITANTS  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA 46 

THE  BALCONY 49 

THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  MASON 54 

A  RAMBLE  AMONG  THE  HILLS.  . . .' — 57 

THE  COURT  OF  LIONS , 63 

BOABDIL  EL  CHICO 67 

MOMENTOS  OF  BoABDIL 70 

THE  TOWER  OF  LAS  INFANTAS 73 

THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  WEATHERCOCK 74 

LEGEND  OF  THE  ARABIAN  ASTROLOGER 75 

LEGEND  OF  THE  THREE  BEAUTIFUL  PRINCESSES 89 

LOCAL  TKADITION,S .' 108 

LEGEND  OF  THE  MOOR'S  LEGACY 109 

VISITORS  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA 126 

LEGEND  JF  PRINCE  AHMED  AL  KAMEL;  OR,  THE  PILGRIM  OF  LOVE ISO 

LEGEND  OF  THE  ROSE  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA;  OR,  THE  PAGE  AND  THE  GER-FALCON.  156 

THE  VETERAN 168 

THE  GOVERNOR  AND  THE  NOTARY 170 

GOVERNOR  MANCO  AND  THE  SOLDIER 175 

LEGEND  OF  THE  Two  DISCREET  STATUES 189 

MAHAMAD  ABEN  ALAHMAR,  THE  FOUNDER  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA 203 

JUSEF  ABUL  HAGIAS,  THE  FINISHER  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA ,  209 


THE    ALHAMBRA. 


A   SERIES  OF  TALES  AND   SKETCHES  OF  THE 
MOORS  AND  SPANIARDS. 


THE  JOURNEY. 

IN  the  sprmg  of  1829,  the  author  of  this  work,  whom  curiosity 
had  brought  into  Spain,  made  a  rambling  expedition  from  Se 
ville  to  Granada,  in  company  with  a  friend,  a  member  of  the 
Russian  embassy  at  Madrid.  Accident  had  thrown  us  together 
from  distant  regions  of  the  globe,  and  a  similarity  of  taste  led 
us  to  wander  together  among  the  romantic  mountains  of  An 
dalusia.  Should  these  pages  meet  his  eye,  wherever  thrown 
by  the  duties  of  his  station,  whether  mingling  in  the  pageantry 
of  courts  or  meditating  on  the  truer  glories  of  nature,  may  they 
recall  the  scenes  of  our  adventurous  companionship,  and  with 
them  the  remembrance  of  one,  in  whom  neither  time  nor  dis 
tance  will  obliterate  the  recollection  of  his  gentleness  and 
worth. 

And  here,  before  setting  forth,  let  me  indulge  in  a  few  previ 
ous  remarks  on  Spanish  scenery  and  Spanish  travelling. 
Many  are  apt  to  picture  Spain  in  their  imaginations  as  a  soft 
southern  region  decked  out  with  all  the  luxuriant  charms  of 
voluptuous  Italy.  On  the  contrary,  though  there  are  excep 
tions  in  some  of  the  maritime  provinces,  yet,  for  the  greater 
part,  it  is  a  stern,  melancholy  country,  with  rugged  mountains 
and  long,  naked,  sweeping  plains,  destitute  of  trees,  and  inva 
riably  silent  and  lonesome,  partaking  of  the  savage  and  solitary 
character  of  Africa.  What  adds  to  this  silence  and  loneliness, 
is  the  absence  of  singing  birds,  a  natural  consequence  of  the 
want  of  groves  and  hedges.  The  vulture  and  the  eagle  are  seen 
wheeling  about  the  mountain  cliffs  and  soaring  over  the  plains, 


8  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

and  groups  of  shy  bustards  stalk  about  the  heaths,  but  the 
myriads  of  smaller  birds,  which  animate  the  whole  face  of 
other  countries,  are  mat  with  in  but  few  provinces  of  Spain,  and 
in  them  chiefly  among  the  orchards  and  gardens  which  sur 
round  the  habitations  of  man. 

In  the  exterior  provinces,  the  traveller  occasionally  traverses 
great  tracts  cultivated  with  grain  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach, 
waving  at  times  with  verdure,  at  other  times  naked  and  sun 
burnt  ;  but  he  looks  round  in  vain  for  the  hand  that  has  tilled 
the  soil :  at  length  he  perceives  some  village  perched  on  a  steep 
hill,  or  rugged  crag,  with  mouldering  battlements  and  ruined 
watch-tower ;  a  strong-hold,  in  old  times,  against  civil  war  or 
Moorish  inroad ;  for  the  custom  among  the  peasantry  of  congre 
gating  together  for  mutual  protection,  is  still  kept  up  in  most 
parts  of  Spain,  in  consequence  of  the  marauding  of  roving  free 
booters. 

But  though  a  great  part  of  Spain  is  deficient  in  the  garniture 
of  groves  and  forests,  and  the  softer  charms  of  ornamental  cul 
tivation,  yet  its  scenery  has  something  of  a  high  and  lofty  char 
acter  to  compensate  the  want.  It  partakes  something  of  the 
attributes  of  its  people,  and  I  think  that  I  better  understand 
the  proud,  hardy,  frugal  and  abstemious  Spaniard,  his  manly 
defiance  of  hardships,  and  contempt  of  effeminate  indulgences, 
smce  I  have  seen  the  country  he  inhabits. 

There  is  something,  too,  in  the  sternly  simple  features  of  the 
Spanish  landscape,  that  impresses  on  the  soul  a  feeling  of  sub 
limity.  The  immense  plains  of  the  Castiles  and  La  Mancha, 
extending  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach,  derive  an  interest  from 
their  very  nakedness  and  immensity,  and  have  something  of 
the  solemn  grandeur  of  the  ocean.  In  ranging  over  these 
boundless  wastes,  the  eye  catches  sight,  here  and  there,  of  a 
straggling  herd  of  cattle  attended  by  a  lonely  herdsman,  mo 
tionless  as  a  statue,  with  his  long  slender  pike  tapering  up  like 
a  lance  into  the  air ;  or  beholds  a  long  train  of  mules  slowly 
moving  along  the  waste  like  a  train  of  camels  in  the  desert,  or 
a  single  herdsman,  armed  with  blunderbuss  and  stiletto,  and 
prowling  over  the  plain.  Thus,  the  country,  the  habits,  the 
very  looks  of  the  people,  have  something  of  the  Arabian  char 
acter.  The  general  insecurity  of  the  country  is  evinced  in  the 
universal  use  of  weapons.  The  herdsman  in  the  field,  the  shep 
herd  in  the  plain  has  his  musket  and  his  knife.  The  wealthy 
villager  rarely  ventures  to  the  market-town  without  his  trabu- 
cho,  and,  perhaps,  a  servant  on  foot  with  a  blunderbuss  on 


THE  JOURNEY.  9 

his  shoulder ;  and  the  most  petty  journey  is  undertaken  with 
the  preparations  of  a  warlike  enterprise. 

The  dangers  of  the  road  produce,  also,  a  mode  of  travelling, 
resembling,  on  a  diminutive  scale,  the  caravans  of  the  East. 
The  arrierors  or  carriers,  congregate  in  troops,  and  set  off  in 
large  and  well-armed  trains  on  appointed  days,  while  individual 
travellers  swell  their  number  and  contribute  to  their  strength. 
In  this  primitive  way  is  the  commerce  of  the  country  carried 
on.  The  muleteer  is  the  general  medium  of  traffic,  and  the 
legitimate  wanderer  of  the  land,  traversing  the  Peninsula  from 
the  Pyrenees  and  the  Asturias,  to  the  Alpuxarras,  the  Serrania 
de  Ronda,  and  even  to  the  gates  of  Gibraltar.  He  lives  frugally 
and  hardily;  his  alforjas  (or  saddle-bags),  of  coarse  cloth,  hold 
his  scanty  stock  of  provisions ;  a  leathern  bottle  hanging  at  his 
saddle-bow,  contains  wine  or  water  for  a  supply  across  barren 
mountains  and  thirsty  plains ;  a  mule  cloth  spread  upon  the 
ground  is  his  bed  at  night,  and  his  pack-saddle  is  his  pillow. 
His  low  but  clear-limbed  and  sinewy  form  betokens  strength ; 
his  complexion  is  dark  and  sun-burnt;  his  eye  resolute,  but 
quiet  in  its  expression,  except  when  kindled  by  sudden  emo 
tion;  his  demeanour  is  frank,  manly,  and  courteous,  and  he 
never  passes  you  without  a  grave  salutation — "  Dios  guarda  a 
usted !"— "  Vay  usted  con  Dios  caballero !"—  "  God  guard  you !" 
— "  God  be  with  you!  cavalier!" 

As  these  men  have  often  their  whole  fortune  at  stake  upon 
the  burden  of  their  mules,  they  have  their  weapons  at  hand, 
slung  to  their  saddles,  and  ready  to  be  snatched  down  for  des- 
porate  defence.  But  their  united  numbers  render  them  secure 
against  petty  bands  of  marauders,  and  the  solitary  bandalero, 
armed  to  the  teeth,  and  mounted  on  his  Andalusian  steed, 
hovers  about  them,  like  a  pirate  about  a  merchant  convoy, 
without  daring  to  make  an  assault. 

The  Spanish  muleteer  has  an  inexhaustible  stock  of  songs 
and  ballads,  wi'th  which  to  beguile  his  incessant  way-faring. 
The  airs  are  rude  and  simple,  consisting  of  but  few  inflexions. 
These  he  chants  forth  with  a  loud  voice,  and  long  drawling 
cadence,  seated  sideways  on  his  mule,  who  seems  to  listen  with 
infinite  gravity,  and  to  keep  time  with  his  paces,  to  the  tune. 
The  couplets  thus  chanted  are  often  old  traditional  romances 
about  the  Moors ;  or  some  legend  of  a  saint ;  or  some  love  ditty ; 
or,  what  is  still  more  frequent,  some  ballad  about  a  bold  contra- 
bandista,  or  hardy  bandalero ;  for  the  smuggler  and  the  robber 
are  poetical  heroes  among  the  common  people  of  Spain.  Often 


10  THE  ALHAMBEA. 

the  song  of  the  muleteer  is  composed  at  the  instant,  and  relates 
to  some  local  scene,  or  some  incident  of  the  journey.  This  tuL 
ent  of  singing  and  improvising  is  frequent  in  Spain,  and  is  said 
to  have  been  inherited  from  the  Moors.  There  is  something 
wildly  pleasing  in  listening  to  these  ditties  among  the  rude  and 
lonely  scenes  they  illustrate,  accompanied  as  they  are,  by  the 
occasional  jingle  of  the  mule-bell. 

It  has  a  most  picturesque  effect,  also,  to  meet  a  train  of  mulej 
teers  in  some  mountain  pass.  First  you  hear  the  bells  of  the 
leading  mules,  breaking  with  their  simple  melody  the  stillness 
of  the* airy  height;  or,  perhaps,  the  voice  of  the  muleteer  ad 
monishing  some  tardy  or  wandering  animal,  or  chanting,  at 
fche  full  stretch  of  his  lungs,  some  traditionary  ballad.  At 
length  you  see  the  mules  slowly  winding  along  the  cragged 
defile,  sometimes  descending  precipitous  cliffs,  so  as  to  present 
themselves  in  full  relief  against  the  sky,  sometimes  toiling  up 
the  deep  arid  chasms  below  you.  As  they  approach,  you  descry 
their  gay  decorations  of  worsted  tufts,  tassels,  and  saddle- 
cloths  ;  while,  as  they  pass  by,  the  ever  ready  trabucho,  slung 
behind  their  packs  and  saddles,  gives  a  hint  of  the  insecurity 
of  the  road. 

The  ancient  kingdom  of  Granada,  into  which  we  are  about 
to  penetrate,  is  one  of  the  most  mountainous  regions  of  Spain. 
Vast  sierras  or  chains  of  mountains,  destitute  of  shrub  or  tree, 
and  mottled  with  variegated  marbles  and  granites,  elevate  their 
sun-burnt  summits  against  a  deep  blue  sky,  yet  in  their  rugged 
bosoms  lie  engulfed  the  most  verdant  and  fertile  valley,  where 
the  desert  and  the  garden  strive  for  mastery,  and  the  very  rock, 
as  it  were,  compelled  to  yield  the  fig,  the  orange,  and  the  cit 
ron,  and  to  blossom  with  the  myrtle  and  the  rose. 

In  the  wild  passes  of  these  mountains,  the  sight  of  walled 
towns  and  villages  built  like  eagles'  nests  among  the  cliffs,  and 
surrounded  by  Moorish  battlements,  or  of  ruined  watch-towers 
perched  on  lofty  peaks,  carry  the  mind  back  to  the  chivalrous 
days  of  Christian  and  Moslem  warfare,  and  to  the  romantic 
struggle  for  the  conquest  of  Granada.  In  traversing  their  lofty 
Sierras,  the  traveller  is  often  obliged  to  alight  and  lead  his  horse 
up  and  down  the  steep  and  jagged  ascents  and  descents,  resem 
bling  the  broken  steps  of  a  staircase.  Sometimes  the  road 
winds  along  dizzy  precipices,  without  parapet  to  guard  him 
from  the  gulfs  below,  and  then  will  plunge  down  steep  and 
dark  and  dangerous  declivities.  Sometimes  it  struggles  through 
rugged  barrancos,  or  ravines,  worn  by  "water  torrents;  the  ob* 


THE  JOURNEY.  H 

scure  paths  of  the  Contrabandist^  while  ever  and  anon,  the 
ominous  cross,  the  memento  of  robbery  and  murder,  erected 
on  a  mound  of  stones  at  some  lonely  part  of  the  road,  admon 
ishes  the  traveller  that  he  is  among  the  haunts  of  banditti; 
perhaps,  at  that  very  moment,  under  the  eye  of  some  lurking 
bandalero.  Sometimes,  in  winding  through  the  narrow  valleys, 
he  k  startled  by  a  horse  bellowing,  and  beholds  above  him,  on 
some  green  fold  of  the  mountain  side,  a  herd  of  fierce  Andalu- 
sian  buils,  destined  for  the  combat  of  the  arena.  There  is 
sometning  awful  in  the  contemplation  of  these  terrific  animals, 
clothed  with  tremendous  strength,  and  ranging  their  native 
pastures,  in  untamed  wildness :  strangers  almost  to  the  face  of 
man.  They  know  no  one  but  the  solitary  herdsman  who  attends 
upon  them,  and  even  he  at  times  dares  not  venture  to  approach 
them.  The  low  bellowings  of  these  bulls,  and  their  menacing 
aspect  as  they  look  down  from  their  rocky  height,  give  addi 
tional  wildness  to  the  savage  scenery  around. 

I  have  been  betrayed  unconsciously  into  a  longer  disquisition 
than  I  had  intended  on  the  several  features  of  Spanish  travel 
ling;  but  there,  is  a  romance  about  all  the  recollections  of  the 
Peninsula  that  is  dear  to  the  imagination. 

It  was  on  the  first  of  May  that  my  companion  and  myself 
set  forth  from  Seville,  on  our  route  to  Granada.  We  had  made 
all  due  preparations  for  the  nature  of  our  journey,  which  lay 
through  mountainous  regions  where  the  roads  are  little  better 
than  mere  mule  paths,  and  too  frequently  beset  by  robbers. 
The  most  valuable  part  of  our  luggage  had  been  forwarded  by 
the  arrieros ;  we  retained  merely  clothing  and  necessaries  for 
the  journey,  and  money  for  the  expenses  of  the  road,  with  a 
sufficient  surplus  of  the  latter  to  satisfy  the  expectations  of 
robbers,  should  we  be  assailed,  and  to  save  ourselves  from  the 
rough  treatment  that  awaits  the  too  wary  and  emptyhanded 
traveller.  A  couple  of  stout  hired  steeds  were  provided  for 
ourselves,  and  a  third  for  our  scanty  luggage,  and  for  the 
conveyance  of  a  sturdy  Biscayan  lad  of  about  twenty  years  of 
age,  who  was  to  guide  us  through  the  perplexed  mazes  of  the 
mountain  roads,  to  take  care  of  our  horses,  to  act  occasionally 
as  our  valet,  and  at  all  times  as  our  guard ;  for  he  had  a  for 
midable  trabucho,  or  carbine,  to  defend  us  from  rateros,  or 
solitary  footpads,  about  which  weapon  he  made  much  vain 
glorious  boast,  though,  to  the  discredit  of  his  generalship,  I 
must  say  that  it  generally  hung  unloaded  behind  his  saddle. 
He  was,  however,  a  faithful,  cheery,  kind-hearted  creature,  full 


12  '  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

of  saws  and  proverbs  as  that  miracle  of  squires,  the  renowned 
Sancho  himself,  whose  name  we  bestowed  upon  him ;  and,  like 
a  true  Spaniard,  though  treated  by  us  with  companionable 
familiarity,  he  never  for  a  moment  in  his  utmost  hilarity  over 
stepped  the  bounds  of  respectful  decorum. 

Thus  equipped  and  attended,  we  set  out  on  our  journey  with 
a  genuine  disposition  to  be  pleased :  with  such  a  disposition, 
what  a  country  is  Spain  for  a  traveller,  where  the  most  miser 
able  inn  is  as  full  of  adventure  as  an  enchanted  castle,  and 
every  meal  is  in  itself  an  achievement !  Let  others  repine  at 
the  lack  of  turnpike  roads  and  sumptuous  hotels,  and  all  the 
elaborate  comforts  of  a  country  cultivated  into  tameness  and 
common-place,  but  give  me  the  rude  mountain  scramble,  the 
roving  haphazard  way-faring,  the  frank,  hospitable,  though 
half  wild  manners,  that  give  such  a  true  game  flavour  to 
romantic  Spain ! 

Our  first  evening's  entertainment  had  a  relish  of  the  kind. 
We  arrived  after  sunset  at  a  little  town  among  the  hills,  after 
a  fatiguing  journey  over  a  wide  houseless  plain,  where  we  had 
been  repeatedly  drenched  with  showers.  In  the  inn  were 
quartered  a  party  of  Miguelistas,  who  were  patrolling  the 
country  in  pursuit  of  robbers.  The  appearance  of  foreigners 
like  ourselves  was  unusual  in  this  remote  town.  Mine  host  with 
two  or  three  old  gossipping  comrades  in  brown  cloaks  studied 
our  passports  in  the  corner  of  the  posada,  while  an  Alguazil 
took  notes  by  the  dim  light  of  a  lamp.  The  passports  were  in 
foreign  languages  and  perplexed  them,  but  our  Squire  Sancho 
assisted  them  in  their  studies,  and  magnified  our  importance 
with  the  grandiloquence  of  a  Spaniard.  In  the  mean  time  the 
magnificent  distribution  of  a  few  cigars  had  won  the  hearts  of 
all  around  us.  In  a  little  while  the  whole  community  seemed 
put  in  agitation  to  make  us  welcome.  The  Corregidor  himself 
waited  upon  us,  and  a  great  rush-bottomed  armed  chair  was 
ostentatiously  bolstered  into  our  room  by  our  landlady,  foi 
the  accommodation  of  that  important  personage.  The  com 
mander  of  the  patrol  took  supper  with  us :  a  surly,  talking, 
laughing,  swaggering  Andaluz,  who  had  made  a  campaign  in 
South  America,  and  recounted  his  exploits  in  love  and  war 
with  much  pomp  of  praise  and  vehemence  of  gesticulation,  and 
mysterious  rolling  of  the  eye.  He  told  us  he  had  a  list  of  all 
the  robbers  in  the  country,  and  meant  to  ferret  out  every 
mother's  son  of  them ;  he  offered  us  at  the  same  time  some  oi 
his  soldiers  as  an  escort.  ' '  One  is  enough  to  protect  you, 


THE  JOURNEY.  13 

Signers ;  the  robbers  know  me,  and  know  my  men ;  the  sight 
of  one  is  enough  to  spread  terror  through  a  whole  sierra." 
We  thanked  him  for  his  offer,  but  assured  him,  in  his  own 
strain,  that  with  the  protection  of  our  redoubtable  Squire 
Sancho,  we  were  not  afraid  of  all  the  ladrones  of  Andalusia. 

While  we  were  supping  with  our  Andalusian  friend,  we 
heard  the  notes  of  a  guitar  and  the  click  of  castanets,  and 
presently,  a  chorus  of  voices,  singing  a  popular  air.  In  fact, 
mine  host  had  gathered  together  the  amateur  singers  and 
musicians  and  the  rustic  belles  of  the  neighbourhood,  and  on 
going  forth,  the  court-yard  of  the  inn  presented  a  scene  of 
true  Spanish  festivity.  We  took  our  seats  with  mine  host  and 
hostess  and  the  commander  of  the  patrol,  under  the  archway 
of  the  court.  The  guitar  passed  from  hand  to  hand,  but  a 
jovial  shoemaker  was  the  Orpheus  of  the  place.  He  was  a 
pleasant  looking  fellow  with  huge  black  whiskers  and  a 
roguish  eye.  His  sleeves  were  rolled  up  to  his  elbows;  he 
touched  the  guitar  with  masterly  skill,  and  sang  little  amorous 
ditties  with  an  expressive  leer  at  the  women,  with  whom  he 
was  evidently  a  favourite.  He  afterwards  danced  a  fandango 
with  a  buxom  Andalusian  damsel,  to  the  great  delight  of  the 
spectators.  But  none  of  the  females  present  could  compare 
with  mine  host's  pretty  daughter  Josefa,  who  had  slipped 
away  and  made  her  toilette  for  the  occasion,  and  had  adorned 
her  head  with  roses ;  and  also  distinguished  herself  in  a  bolero 
with  a  handsome  young  dragoon.  We  had  ordered  our  host 
to  let  wine  and  refreshments  circulate  freely  among  the 
company,  yet,  though  there  was  a  motley  assemblage  of 
soldiers,  muleteers  and  villagers,  no  one  exceeded  the  bounds 
of  sober  enjoyment.  The  scene  was  a  study  for  a  painter :  the 
picturesque  group  of  dancers;  the  troopers  in  their  half  mili 
tary  dresses,  the  peasantry  wrapped  in  their  brown  cloaks, 
nor  must  I  omit  to  mention  the  old  meagre  Alguazil  in  a  short 
black  cloak,  who  took  no  notice  of  any  thing  going  on,  but 
sat  in  a  corner  diligently  writing  by  the  dim  light  of  a  huge 
copper  lamp  that  might  have  figured  in  the  days  of  Don 
Quixote. 

I  am  not  writing  a  regular  narrative,  and  do  not  pretend  to 
give  the  varied  events  of  several  days'  rambling  over  hill  and 
dale,  and  moor  and  mountain.  We  travelled  in  true  contra- 
bandista  style,  taking  every  thing,  rough  and  smooth,  as  we 
found  it,  and  mingling  with  all  classes  and  conditions  in  a 
kind  of  vagabond  companionship.  It  is  the  true  way  to  travel 


14  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

in  Spain.  Knowing  the  scanty  larders  of  the  inns,  and  the 
naked  tracts  of  country  the  traveller  has  often  to  traverse,  we 
had  taken  care,  on  starting,  to  have  the  alforjas,  or  saddle 
bags,  of  our  Squire  well  stocked  with  cold  provisions,  and  his 
beta,  or  leathern  bottle,  which  was  of  portly  dimensions,  filled 
to  the  neck  with  choice  Valdepenas  wine.  As  this  was  a 
munition  for  our  campaign  more  important  than  even  his; 
trabucho,  we  exhorted  him  to  have  an  eye  to  it,  and  I  will  da 
him  the  justice  to  say  that  his  namesake,  the  trencher-loving 
Sancho  himself,  could  not  excel  him  as  a  provident  purveyor. 
Though  the  alforjas  and  beta  were  repeatedly  and  vigorously 
assailed  throughout  the  journey,  they  appeared  to  have  a 
miraculous  property  of  being  never  empty;  for  our  vigilant 
Squire  took  care  to  sack  every  thing  that  remained  from  our 
evening  repasts  at  the  inns,  to  supply  our  next  day's  luncheon. 

What  luxurious  noontide  repasts  have  we  made  on  the 
green  sward  by  the  side  of  a  brook  or  fountain  under  a  shady 
tree,  and  then  what  delicious  siestas  on  our  cloaks  spread  out 
on  the  herbage ! 

We  paused  one  day  at  noon,  for  a  repast  of  the  kind.  It 
was  in  a  pleasant  little  green  meadow,  surrounded  by  hills 
covered  with  olive  trees.  Our  cloaks  were  spread  on  the  grass 
under  an  elm  tree,  by  the  side  of  a  babbling  rivulet :  our  horses 
were  tethered  where  they  might  crop  the  herbage,  and  Sancho 
produced  his  alforjas  with  an  air  of  triumph.  They  contained 
the  contributions  of  four  days'  journeying,  but  had  been  sig 
nally  enriched  by  the  foraging  of  the  previous  evening,  in  a 
plenteous  inn  at  Antequera.  Our  Squire  drew  forth  the 
heterogeneous  contents  one  by  one,  and  they  seemed  to  have 
no  end.  Fir^t  came  forth  a  shoulder  of  roasted  kid,  very  little 
the  worse  for  wear,  then  an  entire  partridge,  then  a  great 
morsel  of  salted  codfish  wrapped  in  paper,  then  the  residue  of 
a  ham,  then  the  half  of  a  pullet,  together  with  several  rolls  of 
bread  and  a  rabble  rout  of  oranges,  figs,  raisins,  and  walnuts. 
His  beta  also  had  been  recruited  with  some  excellent  wine  of 
Malaga.  At  every  fresh  apparition  from  his  larder,  he  could 
enjoy  our  ludicrous  surprise,  throwing  himself  back  on  the 
grass  and  shouting  with  laughter. 

Nothing  pleased  this  simple-hearted  varlet  more  than  to  be 
compared,  for  his  devotion  to  the  trencher,  to  the  renowned 
squire  of  Don  Quixote.  He  was  well  versed  in  the  history  of 
the  Don,  and,  like  most  of  the  common  people  of  Spain,  he 
firmly  believed  it  to  be  a  true  history. 


TEE  JOURNEY.  15 

"All  that,  however,  happened  a  long  time  ago,  Signor,"  said 
he  to  me,  one  day,  with  an  inquiring  look. 

"A  very  long  time,"  was  the  reply. 

"I  dare  say,  more  than  a  thousand  years?"— still  looking 
dubiously. 

"  I  dare  say ?  not  less." 

The  squire  was  satisfied. 

As  we  were  making  our  repast  ahove  described,  and  divert 
ing  ourselves  with  the  simple  drollery  of  our  squire,  a  solitary 
beggar  approached  us,  who  had  almost  the  look  of  a  pilgrim. 
He  was  evidently  very  old,  with  a  gray  beard,  and  supported 
himself  on  a  staff,  yet  age  had  not  borne  him  down ;  he  was 
tall  and  erect,  and  had  the  wreck  of  a  fine  form.  He  wore 
a  round  Andalusian  hat,  a  sheepskin  jacket,  and  leathern 
breeches,  gaiters,  and  sandals.  His  dress,  though  old  and 
patched,  was  decent,  his  demeanour  manly,  and  he  addressed 
us  with  that  grave  courtesy  that  is  to  be  remarked  in  the  low 
est  Spaniard.  We  were  in  a  favourable  mood  for  such  a 
visitor,  and  in  a  freak  of  capricious  charity  gave  him  some 
silver,  a  loaf  of  fine  wheaten  bread,  and  a  goblet  of  our  choice 
wine  of  Malaga.  He  received  them  thankfully,  but  without 
any  grovelling  tribute  of  gratitude.  Tasting  the  wine,  he  held 
it  up  to  the  light,  with  a  slight  beam  of  surprise  in  his  eye ; 
then  quaffing  it  off  at  a  draught:  "  It  is  many  years,"  said  he, 
* '  since  I  have  tasted  such  wine.  It  is  a  cordial  to  an  old  man's 
heart."  Then  looking  at  the  beautiful  wheaten  loaf:  "  Bendita 
sea  tal  pan !"  (blessed  be  such  bread !)  So  saying,  he  put  it  in 
his  wallet.  We  urged  him  to  eat  it  on  the  spot.  "No, 
Signers,"  replied  he,  "the  wine  I  had  to  drink,  or  leave;  but 
the  bread  I  must  take  home  to  share  with  my  family." 

Our  man  Sancho  sought  our  eye,  and  reading  permission 
there,  gave  the  old  man  some  of  the  ample  fragments  of  our 
repast;  on  condition,  however,  that  he  should  sit  down  and 
make  a  meal.  He  accordingly  took  his  seat  at  some  little  dis 
tance  from  us,  and  began  to  eat,  slowly,  and  with  a  sobriety 
and  decorum  that  would  have  become  a  hidalgo.  There  was 
altogether  a  measured  manner  and  a  quiet  self-possession  about 
the  old  man,  that  made  me  think  he  had  seen  better  days ;  his 
language,  too,  though  simple,  had  occasionally  something  pic 
turesque  and  almost  poetical  in  the  phraseology.  I  set  him 
down  for  some  broken-down  cavalier.  I  was  mistaken,  it  was 
nothing  but  the  innate  courtesy  of  a  Spaniard,  and  the  poetical 
turn  of  thought  and  language  often  to  be  found  in  the  lowest 


16  THE  ALRAMBRA. 

classes  of  this  clear- witted  people.  For  fifty  years,  he  told  us, 
he  had  been  a  shepherd,  but  now  he  was  out  of  employ,  and 
destitute.  "When  I  was  a  young  man,"  said  he,  "nothing 
could  harm  or  trouble  me.  I  was  always  well,  always  gay ; 
but  now  I  am  seventy -nine  years  of  age,  and  a  beggar,  and 
my  heart  begins  to  fail  me." 

Still  he  was  not  a  regular  mendicant,  it  was  not  until 
recently  that  want  had  driven  him  to  this  degradation,  and  he 
gave  a  touching  picture  of  the  struggle  between  hunger  and 
pride,  when  abject  destitution  first  came  upon  him.  He  was 
returning  from  Malaga,  without  money;  he  had  not  tasted 
food  for  some  time,  and  was  crossing  one  of  the  great  plains  of 
Spain,  where  there  were  but  few  habitations.  When  almost 
dead  with  hunger,  he  applied  at  the  door  of  a  venta,  or  country 
inn.  "Perdona  usted  per  Dios  hermano!"  (excuse  us,  brother, 
for  God's  sake!)  was  the  reply;— the  usual  mode  in  Spain  of 
refusing  a  beggar.  "I  turned  away,"  said  he,  "with  shame 
greater  than  my  hunger,  for  my  heart  was  yet  too  proud.  I 
came  to  a  river  with  high  banks  and  deep  rapid  current,  and 
felt  tempted  to  throw  myself  in;  what  should  such  an  old 
worthless  wretched  man  as  I  live  for!  But  when  I  was  on 
the  brink  of  the  current,  I  thought  on  the  blessed  Virgin,  and 
turned  away.  I  travelled  on  until  I  saw  a  country-seat,  at  a 
little  distance  from  the  road,  and  entered  the  outer  gate  of  the 
court-yard.  The  door  was  shut,  but  there  were  two  young 
signoras  at  a  window.  I  approached,  and  begged :  '  Perdona 
usted  per  Dios  hermano ! '  (excuse  us,  brother,  for  God's  sake !) 
and  the  window  closed.  I  crept  out  of  the  court-yard;  but 
hunger  overcame  me,  and  my  heart  gave  way.  I  thought  my 
hour  was  at  hand.  So  I  laid  myself  down  at  the  gate,  com 
mended  myself  to  the  holy  Virgin,  and  covered  my  head  to  die. 
In  a  little  while  afterwards,  the  master  of  the  house  came 
home.  Seeing  me  lying  at  his  gate,  he  uncovered  my  head, 
had  pity  on  my  gray  hairs,  took  me  into  his  house,  and  gave 
me  food.  So,  Signors,  you  see  that  we  should  always  put  con 
fidence  in  the  protection  of  the  Virgin." 

The  old  man  was  on  his  way  to  his  native  place  Archidona, 
which  was  close  by  the  summit  of  a  steep  and  rugged  mountain. 
He  pointed  to  the  ruins  of  its  old  Moorish  castle.  That  eastle, 
he  said,  was  inhabited  by  a  Moorish  king  at  the  time  of  the 
wars  of  Granada.  Queen  Isabella  invaded  it  with  a  great 
army,  but  the  king  looked  down  from  his  castle  among  the 
clouds,  and  laughed  her  to  scorn.  Upon  this,  the  Virgin 


TUE  JOURNEY.  17 

appeared  to  the  queen,  and  guided  her  and  her  army  up  a  mys 
terious  path  of  the  mountain,  which  had  never  before  been 
known.  When  the  Moor  saw  her  coming,  he  was  astonished, 
and  springing  with  his  horse  from  a  precipice,  was  dashed  to 
pieces.  The  marks  of  his  horse's  hoofs,  said  the  old  man,  are 
to  be  seen  on  the  margin  of  the  rock  to  this  day.  And  see, 
Signors,  yonder  is  the  road  by  which  the  queen  and  her  arm} 
mounted,  you  see  it  like  a  riband  up  the  mountain  side ;  but 
the  miracle  is,  that,  though  it  can  be  seen  at  a  distance,  when 
you  come  near,  it  disappears.  The  ideal  road  to  which  he 
pointed,  was  evidently  a  sandy  ravine  of  the  mountain,  which 
looked  narrow  and  denned  at  a  distance,  but  became  broad  and 
indistinct  on  an  approach.  As  the  old  man's  heart  warmed 
with  wine  and  wassail,  he  went  on  to  tell  us  a  story  of  the 
buried  treasure  left  under  the  earth  by  the  Moorish  king.  His 
own  house  was  next  to  the  foundations  of  the  castle.  The 
curate  and  notary  dreamt  three  times  of  the  treasure,  and 
went  to  work  at  the  place  pointed  out  in  their  dreams.  His 
own  son-in-law  heard  the  sound  of  their  pick-axes  and  spades 
at  night.  What  they  found  nobody  knows ;  they  became  sud 
denly  rich,  but  kept  their  own  secret.  Thus  the  old  man  had 
once  been  next  door  to  fortune,  but  was  doomed  never  to  get 
under  the  same  roof. 

I  have  remarked  that  the  stories  of  treasure  buried  by  the 
Moors,  which  prevail  throughout  Spain,  are  most  current 
among  the  poorest  people.  It  is  thus  kind  nature  consoles 
with  shadows  for  the  lack  of  substantials.  The  thirsty  man 
dreams  of  fountains  and  roaring  streams,  the  hungry  man  of 
ideal  banquets,  and  the  poor  man  of  heaps  of  hidden  gold; 
nothing  certainly  is  more  magnificent  than  the  imagination  of 
a  beggar. 

The  last  travelling  sketch  which  I  shall  give  is  a  curious 
scene  at  the  little  city  of  Loxa.  This  was  a  famous  belligerent 
frontier  post,  in  the  time  of  the  Moors,  and  repulsed  Ferdinand 
from  its  walls.  It  was  the  strong-hold  of  old  Ali  Atar,  the 
father-in-law  of  Boabdil,  when  that  fiery  veteran  sallied  forth 
with  his  son-in-law,  on  that  disastrous  inroad,  that  ended  in 
the  death  of  the  chieftain,  and  the  capture  of  the  monarch. 
Loxa  is  wildly  situated  in  a  broken  mountain  pass,  on  the 
banks  of  the  Xenil,  among  rocks  and  groves,  and  meadows 
and  gardens.  The  people  seem  still  to  retain  the  bold  fiery 
spirit  of  the  olden  time.  Our  inn  was  suited  to  the  place.  It 
was  kept  by  a  young,  handsome,  Andalusian  widow,  whose 


18  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

trim  busquina  of  black  silk  fringed  with  bugles,  set  off  the 
play  of  a  graceful  form,  and  round  pliant  limbs.  Her  step  was 
firm  and  elastic,  her  dark  eye  was  full  of  fire,  and  the  coquetry 
of  her  air  and  varied  ornaments  of  her  person  showed  that 
she  was  accustomed  to  be  admired. 

She  was  well  matched  by  a  brother,  nearly  about  her  own 
age;  they  were  perfect  models  of  the  Andalusian  ma  jo  and 
maja.  He  was  tall,  vigorous,  and  well  formed,  with  a  clear, 
olive  complexion,  a  dark  beaming  eye,  and  curling,  chestnut 
whiskers,  that  met  under  his  chin.  He  was  gallantly  dressed 
in  a  short  green  velvet  jacket,  fitted  to  his  shape,  profusely 
decorated  with  silver  buttons,  with  a  white  handkerchief  in 
each  pocket.  He  had  breeches  of  the  same,  with  rows  of  but 
tons  from  the  hips  to  the  knees ;  a  pink  silk  handkerchief  round 
his  neck,  gathered  through  a  ring,  on  the  bosom  of  a  neatly 
plaited  shirt;  a  sash  round  the  waist  to  match;  bottinas  or 
spatterdashes  of  the  finest  russet  leather,  elegantly  worked  and 
open  at  the  calves  to  show  his  stockings,  and  russet  shoes  set 
ting  off  a  well-shaped  foot. 

As  he  was  standing  at  the  door,  a  horseman  rode  up  and 
entered  into  low  and  earnest  conversation  with  him.  He  was 
dressed  in  similar  style,  and  almost  with  equal  finery.  A  man 
about  thirty,  square  built,  with  strong  Roman  features,  hand 
some,  though  slightly  pitted  with  the  small-pox,  with  a  free, 
bold  and  somewhat  daring  air.  His  powerful  black  horse  was 
decorated  with  tassels  and  fanciful  trappings,  and  a  couple  of 
broad-mouthed  blunderbusses  hung  behind  the  saddle.  He  had 
the  air  of  those  contraband  istas  that  I  have  seen  in  the  moun 
tains  of  Ronda,  and,  evidently,  had  a  good  understanding  with 
the  brother  of  mine  hostess ;  nay,  if  I  mistake  not,  he  was  a 
favourite  admirer  of  the  widow.  In  fact,  the  whole  inn  and  its 
inmates  had  something  of  a  contrabandista  aspect,  and  the 
blunderbuss  stood  in  a  corner  beside  the  guitar.  The  horseman 
I  have  mentioned,  passed  his  evening  in  the  posada,  and  sang 
several  bold  mountain  romances  with  great  spirit. 

As  we  were  at  supper,  two  poor  Asturians  put  in  in  distress, 
begging  food  and  a  night's  lodging.  They  had  been  waylaid  by 
robbers  as  they  ^am.e  from  a  fair  among  the  mountains,  robbed 
of  a  horse,  which  carried  all  their  stock  in  trade,  stripped  of 
their  money  and  most  of  their  apparel,  beaten  for  having 
offered  resistance,  and  left  almost  naked  in  the  road.  My  com 
panion,  with  a  prompt  generosity,  natural  to  him,  ordered  them 


THE  JOURNEY.  19 

a  supper  and  a  bed,  and  gave  them  a  supply  of  money  to  help 
them  forward  towards  their  home. 

As  the  evening  advanced,  the  dramatis  personse  thickened. 
A  large  man,  about  sixty  years  of  age,  of  powerful  frame,  came 
strolling  in,  to  gossip  with  mine  hostess.  He  was  dressed  in 
the  ordinary  Andalusian  costume,  but  had  a  huge  sabre  tucked 
under  his  arm,  wore  large  moustaches  and  had  something  of  a 
lofty  swaggering  air.  Every  one  seemed  to  regard  him  with 
great  deference. 

Our  man,  Sancho,  whispered  to  us  that  he  was  Don  Ventura 
Rodriguez,  the  hero  and  champion  of  Loxa,  famous  for  his 
prowess  and  the  strength  of  his  arm .  In  the  time  of  the  French 
invasion,  he  surprised  six  troopers  who  were  asleep.  He  first 
secured  their  horses,  then  attacked  them  with  his  sabre ;  killed 
some,  and  took  the  rest  prisoners.  For  this  exploit,  the  king 
allows  him  a  peceta,  (the  fifth  of  a  duro,  or  dollar,)  per  day, 
and  has  dignified  him  with  the  title  of  Don. 

I  was  amused  to  notice  his  swelling  language  and  demeanour. 
He  was  evidently  a  thorough  Andalusian,  boastful  as  he  was 
brave.  His  sabre  was  always  in  his  hand,  or  under  his  arm. 
He  carries  it  always  about  with  him  as  a  child  does  a  doll,  calls 
it  his  Santa  Teresa,  and  says,  that  when  he  draws  it,  "  tembla 
la  tierra!"  (the  earth  trembles!) 

I  sat  until  a  late  hour  listening  to  the  varied  themes  of  this 
motley  group,  who  mingled  together  with  the  unreserve  of  a 
Spanish  posada.  We  had  contrabandista  songs,  stories  of  ^b- 
bers,  guerilla  exploits,  and  Moorish  legends.  The  last  one  from 
our  handsome  landlady,  who  gave  a  poetical  account  of  the 
infiernos,  or  infernal  regions  of  Loxa— dark  caverns,  in  which 
subterraneous  streams  and  waterfalls  make  a  mysterious  sound. 
The  common  people  say  they  are  money  coiners,  shut  up  there 
from  the  time  of  the  Moors,  and  that  the  Moorish  kings  kept 
their  treasures  in  these  caverns. 

Were  it  the  purport  of  this  work,  I  could  fill  its  pages  with 
the  incidents  and  scenes  of  our  rambling  expedition,  but  other 
themes  invite  me.  Journeying  in  this  manner,  we  at  length 
emerged  from  the  mountains,  and  entered  upon  the  beautiful 
Vega  of  Granada.  Here  we  took  our  last  mid-day's  repast 
under  a  grove  of  olive  trees,  on  the  borders  of  a  rivulet,  with 
the  old  Moorish  capital  in  the  distance,  dominated  by  the  ruddy 
towers  of  the  Alhambra,  while  far  above  it  the  snowy  summits 
of  the  Sierra  Nevada  shone  like  silver.  The  day  was  without 


20  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

a  cloud,  and  the  heat  of  the  sun  tempered  by  cool  breezes  from 
the  mountains ;  after  our  repast,  we  spread  our  cloaks  and  took 
our  last  siesta,  lulled  by  the  humming  of  bees  among  the  flow 
ers,  and  the  notes  of  the  ring  doves  from  the  neighbouring 
olive  trees.  When  the  sultry  hours  were  past,  we  resumed 
our  journey,  and  after  passing  between  hedges  of  aloes  and 
Indian  figs,  and  through  a  wilderness  of  gardens,  arrived  about 
sunset  at  the  gates  of  Granada. 


GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

To  the  traveller  imbued  with  a  feeling  for  the  historical  and 
poetical,  the  Alhambra  of  Granada  is  as  much  an  object  of 
veneration  as  is  the  Caaba,  or  sacred  house  of  Mecca,  to  all  true 
Moslem  pilgrims.  How  many  legends  and  traditions,  true  and 
fabulous,  how  many  songs  and  romances,  Spanish  and  Arabian, 
of  love  and  war  and  chivalry,  are  associated  with  this  romantic 
pile !  The  reader  may  judge,  therefore,  of  our  delight,  when, 
shortly  after  our  arrival  in  Granada,  the  governor  of  Alhambra 
gave  us  permission  to  occupy  his  vacant  apartments  in  the 
Moorish  palace.  My  companion  was  soon  summoned  away  by 
the  duties  of  his  station,  but  I  remained  for  several  months 
spell-bound  in  the  old  enchanted  pile.  The  following  papers 
are  the  result  of  my  reveries  and  researches,  during  that  deli 
cious  thraldom.  If  they  have  the  power  of  imparting  any  of 
the  witching  charms  of  the  place  to  the  imagination  of  the 
reader,  he  will  not  repine  at  lingering  with  me  for  a  season  in 
the  legendary  halls  of  the  Alhambra. 

THE  Alhambra  is  an  ancient  fortress  or  castellated  palace  of 
the  Moorish  kings  of  Granada,  where  they  held  dominion  over 
this  their  boasted  terrestrial  paradise,  and  made  their  last 
stand  for  empire  in  Spain.  The  palace  occupies  but  a  portion 
of  the  fortress,  the  walls  of  which,  studded  with  towers,  stretch 
irregularly  round  the  whole  crest  of  a  lofty  hill  that  overlooks 
the  city,  and  forms  a  spire  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  or  Snowy 
Mountain. 

In  the  time  of  the  Moors,  the  fortress  was  capable  of  contain 
ing  an  army  of  forty  thousand  men  within  its  precincts,  and 
served  occasionally  as  a  strong-hold  of  the  sovereigns  against 


GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA.  21 

their  rebellious  subjects.  After  the  kingdom  had  passed  into 
the  hands  of  the  Christians,  the  Alhambra  continued  a  royal 
demesne,  and  was  occasionally  inhabited  by  the  Castilian 
monarchs.  The  Emperor  Charles  V.  began  a  sumptuous 
palace  within  its  walls,  but  was  deterred  from  completing  it  by 
repeated  shocks  of  earthquakes.  The  last  royal  residents  were 
Philip  V.  and  his  beautiful  Queen  Elizabetta,  of  Parma,  early 
in  the  eighteenth  century. 

Great  preparations  were  made  for  their  reception.  The 
palace  and  gardens  were  placed  in  a  state  of  repair ;  and  a  new 
suite  of  apartments  erected,  and  decorated  by  artists  brought 
from  Italy.  The  sojourn  of  the  sovereigns  was  transient; 
and,  after  their  departure,  the  palace  once  more  became  deso 
late.  Still  the  place  was  maintained  with  some  military  state. 
The  governor  held  it  immediately  from  the  crown :  its  jurisdic 
tion  extended  down  into  the  suburbs  of  the  city,  and  was 
independent  of  the  captain  general  of  Granada.  A  consider 
able  garrison  was  kept  up ;  the  governor  had  his  apartments 
in  the  old  Moorish  palace,  and  never  descended  into  Granada 
without  some  military  parade.  The  fortress,  in  fact,  was  a 
little  town  of  itself,  having  several  streets  of  houses  within  its 
walls,  together  with  a  Franciscan  convent  and  a  parochial 
church. 

The  desertion  of  the  court,  however,  was  a  fatal  blow  to  the 
Alhambra.  Its  beautiful  walls  became  desolate,  and  some  of 
them  fell  to  ruin ;  the  gardens  were  destroyed,  and  the  foun 
tains  ceased  to  play.  By  degrees  the  dwellings  became  filled 
up  with  a  loose  and  lawless  population ;  contrabandistas,  who 
availed  themselves  of  its  independent  jurisdiction,  to  carry  on 
a  wide  and  daring  course  of  smuggling,  and  thieves  and  rogues 
of  all  sorts,  who  made  this  their  place  of  refuge,  from  whence 
they  might  depredate  upon  Granada  and  its  vicinity.  The 
strong  arm  of  government  at  length  interposed.  The  whole 
community  was  thoroughly  sifted;  none  were  suffered  to 
remain  but  such  as  were  of  honest  character  and  had  legiti 
mate  right  to  a  residence ;  the  greater  part  of  the  houses  were 
demolished,  and  a  mere  hamlet  left,  with  the  parochial  church 
and  the  Franciscan  convent. 

During  the  recent  troubles  in  Spain,  when  Granada  was  in 
the  hands  of  the  French,  the  Alhambra  was  garrisoned  by 
their  troops,  and  the  palace  was  occasionally  inhabited  by  the 
French  commander.  With  that  enlightened  taste  which  has 
ever  distinguished  the  French  nation  in  their  conquests,  this 


22  THE-  ALRAMBRA. 

monument  of  Moorish  elegance  and  grandeur  was  rescued 
from  the  absolute  ruin  and  desolation  that  were  overwhelming 
it.  The  roofs  were  repaired,  the  saloons  and  galleries  pro 
tected  from  the  weather,  the  gardens  cultivated,  the  water 
courses  restored,  the  fountains  once  more  made  to  throw  up 
their  sparkling  showers :  and  Spain  may  thank  her  invaders 
for  having  preserved  to  her  the  most  beautiful  and  interesting 
of  her  historical  monuments. 

On  the  departure  of  the  French,  they  blew  up  several  towers 
of  the  outer  wall,  and  left  the  fortifications  scarcely  tenable. 
Since  that  time,  the  military  importance  of  the  post  is  at  an 
end.  The  garrison  is  a  handful  of  invalid  soldiers,  whose  prin 
cipal  duty  is  to  guard  some  of  the  outer  towers,  which  serve, 
occasionally,  as  a  prison  of  state ;  and  the  governor,  abandon- 
in  g  the  lofty  hill  of  the  Alhambra,  resides  in  the  centre  of 
Granada,  for  the  more  convenient  despatch  of  his  official 
duties.  I  cannot  conclude  this  brief  notice  of  the  state  of  the 
fortress,  without  bearing  testimony  to  the  honourable  exertions 
of  its  present  commander,  Don  Francisco  de  Salis  Serna,  who 
is  tasking  all  the  limited  resources  at  his  command,  to  put  the 
palace  in  a  state  of  repair ;  and  by  his  judicious  precautions 
has  for  some  time  arrested  its  too  certain  decay.  Had  his 
predecessors  discharged  the  duties  of  their  station  with  equal 
fidelity,  the  Alhambra  might  yet  have  remained  in  almost  its 
pristine  beauty ;  were  government  to  second  him  with  means 
equal  to  his  zeal,  this  edifice  might  still  be  preserved  to  adorn 
the  land,  and  to  attract  the  curious  and  enlightened  of  every 
clime,  for  many  generations. 


INTERIOR  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

THE  Alhambra  has  been  so  often  and  so  minutely  described 
by  travellers,  that  a  mere  sketch  will  probably  be  sufficient 
for  the  reader  to  refresh  his  recollection ;  I  will  give,  therefore, 
a  brief  account  of  our  visit  to  it  the  morning  after  our  arrival 
in  Granada. 

Leaving  our  posada  of  La  Espada,  we  traversed  the  renowned 
square  of  the  Vivarrambla,  once  the  scene  of  Moorish  jousts 
and  tournaments,  now  a  crowded  market  place.  From  thence 
we  proceeded  along  the  Zncatin,  the  main  street  of  what  was 


INTERIOR   OF  THE  ALHAMBRA.  23 

the  great  Bazaar,  in  the  time  of  the  Moors,  where  the  small 
shops  and  narrow  alleys  still  retain  their  Oriental  character. 
Crossing  an  open  place  in  front  of  the  palace  of  the  captain- 
general,  we  ascended  a  confined  and  winding  street,  the  name 
of  which  reminded  us  of  the  chivalric  days  of  Granada.  It  is 
called  the  Calle,  or  street  of  the  Gomeres:  from  a  Moorish 
family,  famous  in  chronicle  and  song.  This  street  led  up  to  a 
mansion  gateway  of  Grecian  architecture,  built  by  Charles  V., 
forming  the  entrance  to  the  domains  of  the  Alhambra. 

At  the  gate  were  two  or  three  ragged  and  superannuated 
soldiers,  dozing  on  a  stone  bench,  the  successors  of  the  Zegris 
and  the  Abencerrages ;  while  a  tall,  meagre  varlet,  whoso 
rusty  brown  cloak  was,  evidently,  intended  to  conceal  the 
ragged  state  of  his  nether  garments,  was  lounging  in  the  sun 
shine,  and  gossipping  with  an  ancient  sentinel,  on  duty.  He 
joined  us  as  we  entered  the  gate,  and  offered  his  services  to 
showed  us  the  fortress. 

I  have  a  traveller's  dislike  to  officious  ciceroni,  and  did  not 
altogether  like  the  garb  of  the  applicant: 

"  You  are  well  acquainted  with  the  place,  I  presume?" 
"  Nifiguno  mas— puee,  senor,  soy  hijo  de  la  Alhambra." 
(Nobody  better— in  fact,  sir,  I  am  a  son  of  the  Alhambra.) 
The  common  Spaniards  have  certainly  a  most  poetical  way  of 
expressing  themselves— "  A  son  of  the  Alhambra:"  the  appel 
lation  caught  me  at  once ;  the  very  tattered  garb  of  my  new 
acquaintance  assumed  a  dignity  in  my  eyes.     It  was  emble 
matic  of  the  features  of  the  place,  and  became  the  progeny  of  a 
ruin. 

I  put  some  further  questions  to  him,  and  found  his  title  was 
legitimate.  His  family  had  lived  in  the  fortress  from  genera 
tion  to  generation  ever  since  the  time  of  the  conquest.  His 
name  was  Mateo  Ximenes.  "Then,  perhaps,"  said  I,  "you 
may  be  a  descendant  from  the  great  Cardinal  Ximenes. " 

"Dios  sabe!  God  knows,  senor.  It  may  be  so.  We  are  the 
oldest  family  in  the  Alhambra.  Viejos  Cristianos,  old  Chris 
tians,  without  any  taint  of  Moor  or  Jew.  I  know  we  belong  to 
some  great  family  or  other;  but  I  forget  who.  My  father 
knows  all  about  it.  He  has  the  coat  of  arms  hanging  up  in 
his  cottage,  up  in  the  fortress."— There  is  never  a  Spaniard, 
however  poor,  but  has  some  claim  to  high  pedigree.  The  first 
title  of  this  ragged  worthy,  however,  had  completely  captivated 
me.  so  I  gladly  accepted  the  services  of  the  "son  of  the  Al 
hambra." 


24  THE  ALUAMBRA. 

We  now  found  ourselves  in  a  deep  narrow  ravine,  filled  with 
beautiful  groves,  with  a  steep  avenue  and  various  foot-paths 
winding  through  it,  bordered  with  stone  seats  and  ornamented 
with  fountains.  To  our  left,  we  beheld  the  towers  of  the  Al- 
hambra  beetling  above  us ;  to  our  right,  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  ravine,  we  were  equally  dominated  by  rival  towers  on  a 
rocky  eminence.  These,  we  were  told,  were  the  Torres  Ver- 
mejos,  or  Vermilion  towers,  so  called  from  their  ruddy  hue, 
No  one  knows  their  origin.  They  are  of  a  date  much  anterioi 
to  the  Alhambra.  Some  suppose  them  to  have  been  built  by 
the  Romans ;  others,  by  some  wandering  colony  of  Phoenicians. 
Ascending  the  steep  and  shady  avenue,  we  arrived  at  the  fool 
of  a  huge  square  Moorish  tower,  forming  a  kind  of  barbicanr 
through  which  passed  the"  main  entrance  to  the  fortress^ 
Within  the  barbican  was  another  group  of  veteran  invalids, 
one  mounting  guard  at  the  portal,  while  the  rest,  wrapped  in 
their  tattered  cloaks,  slept  on  the  stone  benches.  This  portal 
is  called  the  Gate  of  Justice,  from  the  tribunal  held  within  its 
porch  during  the  Moslem  domination,  for  the  immediate  trial 
of  petty  causes ;  a  custom  common  to  the  Oriental  nations,  and 
occasionally  alluded  to  in  the  sacred  Scriptures. 

The  great  vestibule,  or  porch  of  the  gate,  is  formed  by  an 
immense  Arabian  arch  of  the  horseshoe  form,  which  springs 
to  half  the  height  of  the  tower.  On  the  key-stone  of  this  arch 
is  engraven  a  gigantic  hand.  Within  the  vestibule,  on  the 
key-stone  of  the  portal,  is  engraven,  in  like  manner,  a  gigantic 
key.  Those  who  pretend  to  some  knowledge  of  Mahometan 
symbols,  affirm,  that  the  hand  is  the  emblem  of  doctrine,  and 
the  key,  of  faith ;  the  latter,  they  add,  was  emblazoned  on  the 
standard  of  the  Moslems  when  they  subdued  Andalusia,  in  op 
position  to  the  Christian  emblem  of  the  cross.  A  different  ex 
planation,  however,  was  given  by  the  legitimate  "son  of  the 
Alhambra, "  and  one  more  in  unison  with  the  notions  of  the 
common  people,  who  attach  something  of  mystery  and  magic 
to  everything  Moorish,  and  have  all  kinds  of  superstitions 
con-nected  with  this  old  Moslem  fortress. 

According  to  Mateo,  it  was  a  tradition  handed  down  from 
the  oldest  inhabitants,  and  which  he  had  from  his  father  and 
grandfather,  that  the  hand  and  key  were  magical  devices  on 
which  the  fate  of  the  Alhambra  depended.  The  Moorish  king 
who  built  it  was  a  great  magician,  and,  as  some  believed,  had 
sold  himself  to  the  devil,  and  had  laid  the  whole  fortress  under 
M  magic  spell.  By  this  means  it  had  remained  standing  for 


INTERIOR  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA.  2% 

several  hundred  years,  in  defiance  of  storms  and  earthquakes, 
while  almost  all  the  other  buildings  of  the  Moors  had  fallen  to 
ruin  and  disappeared.  The  spell,  the  tradition  went  on  to  say, 
would  last  until  the  hand  on  the  outer  arch  should  reach  down 
and  grasp  the  key,  when  the  whole  pile  would  tumble  to  pieces,, 
and  all  the  treasures  buried  beneath  it  by  the  Moors  would  be 
revealed. 

Notwithstanding  this  ominous  prediction,  we  ventured  to 
pass  through  the  spell-bound  gateway,  feeling  some  little  as 
surance  against  magic  art  in  the  protection  of  the  Virgin,  a 
statue  of  whom  we  observed  above  the  portal. 

After  passing  through  the  Barbican,  we  ascended  a  narrow 
lane,  winding  between  walls,  and  came  on  a-ii  open  esplanade 
within  the  fortress,  called  the  Plaza  de  los  Algibes,  or  Place  of 
the  Cisterns,  from  great  reservoirs  which  undermine  it,  cut  in 
the  living  rock  by  the  Moors,  for  the  supply  of  the  fortress. 
Here,  also,  is  a  well  of  immense  depth,  furnishing  the  purest 
and  coldest  of  water,— another  monument  of  the  delicate  taste 
of  the  Moors,  who  were  indefatigable  in  their  exertions  to  ob 
tain  that  element  in  its  crystal  purity. 

In  front  of  this  esplanade  is  the  splendid  pile,  commenced  by 
Charles  V.,  intended,  it  is  said,  to  eclipse  the  residence  of  the 
Moslem  kings.  With  all  its  grandeur  and  architectural  merit, 
it  appeared  to  us  like  an  arrogant  intrusion,  and  passing  by  it 
we  entered  a  simple  unostentatious  portal, 'opening  into  the  in 
terior  of  the  Moorish  palace. 

The  transition  was  almost  magical ;  it  seemed  as  if  we  were 
at  once  transported  into  other  times  and  another  realm,  and 
were  treading  the  scenes  of  Arabian  story.  We  found  our 
selves  in  a  great  court  paved  with  white  marble  and  decorated 
at  each  end  with  light  Moorish  peristyles.  It  is  called  the 
court  of  the  Alberca.  In  the  centre  was  an  immense  basin,  or 
fish-pool,  a  hundred  and  thirty  feet  in  length,  by  thirty  in 
breadth,  stocked  with  gold-fish,  and  bordered  by  hedges  of 
roses.  At  the  upper  end  of  this  court,  rose  the  great  tower  of 
Gomares. 

From  the  lower  end,  we  passed  through  a  Moorish  arch- way 
into  the  renowned  Court  of  Lions.  There  is  no  part  of  the  edi 
fice  that  gives  us  a  more  complete  idea  of  its  original  beauty 
and  magnificence  than  this ;  for  none  has  suffered  so  little  from 
the  ravages  of  time.  In  the  centre  stands  the  fountain  famous 
in  song  and  story.  The  alabaster  basins  still  shed  their  dia 
mond  drops,  and  the  twelve  lions  which  support  them,  cast 


26  ^S^  ALHAMBHA. 

forth  their  crystal  streams  as  in  the  days  of  Boabdil.  The 
court  is  laid  out  in  flower  beds,  and  surrounded  by  light  Ara 
bian  arcades  of  open  filigree  work,  supported  by  slender  pil 
lars  of  white  marble.  The  architecture,  like  that  of  all  the 
other  parts  of  the  palace,  is  characterized  by  elegance,  rather 
than  grandeur,  bespeaking  a  delicate  and  graceful  taste,  and  a 
disposition  to  indolent  enjoyment.  When  we  look  upon  the 
fairy  tracery  of  the  peristyles,  and  the  apparently  fragile  fret 
work  of  the  walls,  it  is  difficult  to  believe  that  so  much  has 
survived  the  wear  and  tear  of  centuries,  the  shocks  of  earth 
quakes,  the  violence  of  war,  and  the  quiet,  though  no  less 
baneful,  pilferings  of  the  tasteful  traveller.  It  is  almost  suffi 
cient  to  excuse  the  popular  tradition,  that  the  whole  is  pro 
tected  by  a  magic  charm. 

On  one  side  of  the  court,  a  portal  richly  adorned  opens  into 
a  lofty  hall  paved  with  white  marble,  and  called  the  Hall  of 
the  two  Sisters.  A  cupola  or  lantern  admits  a  tempered  light 
from  above,  and  a  free  circulation  of  air.  The  lower  part  of 
the  walls  is  incrusted  with  beautiful  Moorish  tiles,  on  some  of 
which  are  emblazoned  the  escutcheons  of  the  Moorish  mon- 
archs :  the  upper  part  is  faced  with  the  fine  stucco  work  in 
vented  at  Damascus,  consisting  of  large  plates  cast  in  moulds 
and  artfully  joined,  so  as  to  have  the  appearance  of  having 
been  laboriously  sculptured  by  the  hand  into  light  relievos  and 
fanciful  arabesques,  intermingled  with  texts  of  the  Koran,  and 
poetical  inscriptions  in  Arabian  and  Celtic  characters.  These 
decorations  of  the  walls  and  cupolas  are  richly  gilded,  and  the 
interstices  panelled  with  lapis  lazuli  and  other  brilliant  and  en 
during  colours.  On  each  side  of  the  wall  are  recesses  for  otto 
mans  and  arches.  Above  an  inner  porch,  is  a  balcony  which 
communicated  with  the  women's  apartment.  The  latticed  bal 
conies  still  remain,  from  whence  the  dark-eyed  beauties  of  the 
harem  might  gaze  unseen  upon  the  entertainments  of  the  hall 
below. 

It  is  impossible  to  contemplate  this  once  favourite  abode  of 
Oriental  manners,  without  feeling  the  early  associations  of 
Arabian  romance,  and  almost  expecting  to  see  the  white  arm 
of  some  mysterious  princess  beckoning  from  the  balcony,  or 
some  dark  eye  sparkling  through  the  lattice.  The  abode  of 
beauty  is  here,  as  if  it  had  been  inhabited  but  yesterday — but 
where  are  the  Zoraydas  and  Linderaxas ! 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  court  of  Lions,  is  the  hall  of  the 
Abencerrages,  so  called  from  the  gallant  cavaliers  of  that 


INTERIOR  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA.  27 

illustrious  line,  who  were  here  perfidiously  massacred.  There 
are  some  who  doubt  the  whole  truth  of  this  story,  but  our 
humble  attendant,  Mateo,  pointed  out  the  very  wicket  of  the 
portal  through  which  they  are  said  to  have  been  introduced, 
one  by  one,  and  the  white  marble  fountain  in  the  centre  of  the 
hall,  where  they  were  beheaded.  He  showed  us  also  certain 
broad  ruddy  stains  in  the  pavement,  traces  of  their  blood, 
which,  according  to  popular  belief,  can  never  be  effaced. 
Finding  we  listened  to  him  with  easy  faith,  he  added,  that 
there  was  often  heard  at  night,  in  the  Court  of  the  Lions,  a 
low  confused  sound,  resembling  the  murmurings  of  a  multi 
tude;  with  now  and  then  a  faint  tinkling,  like  the  distant 
clank  of  chains.  These  noises  are  probably  produced  by  the 
bubbling  currents  and  tinkling  falls  of  water,  conducted  under 
the  pavement  through  pipes  and  channels  to  supply  the  foun 
tains  ;  but  according  to  the  legend  of  the  son  of  the  Alhambra, 
they  are  made  by  the  spirits  of  the  murdered  Abencerrages, 
who  nightly  haunt  the  scene  of  their  suffering,  and  invoke  the 
vengeance  of  Heaven  on  their  destroyer. 

From  the  Court  of  Lions,  we  retraced  our  steps  through  the 
court  of  the  Alberca,  or  great  fish-pool,  crossing  which,  we  pro 
ceeded  to  the  tower  of  Comares,  so  called  from  the  name  of 
the  Arabian  architect.  It  is  of  massive  strength,  and  lofty 
height,  domineering  over  the  rest  of  the  edifice,  and  overhang 
ing  the  steep  hill-side,  which  descends  abruptly  to  the  banks  of 
the  Darro.  A  Moorish  archway  admitted  us  into  a  vast  and 
lofty  hall,  which  occupies  the  interior  of  the  tower,  and  was 
the  grand  audience  chamber  of  the  Moslem  monarchs,  thence 
called  the  hall  of  Ambassadors.  It  still  bears  the  traces  of 
past  magnificence.  The  walls  are  richly  stuccoed  and  dec 
orated  with  arabesques,  the  vaulted  ceilings  of  cedar  wood, 
almost  lost  in  obscurity  from  its  height,  still  gleam  with  rich 
gilding  and  the  brilliant  tints  of  the  Arabian  pencil.  On  three 
sides  of  the  saloon  are  deep  windows,  cut  through  the  im 
mense  thickness  of  the  walls,  the  balconies  of  which  look 
down  upon  the  verdant  valley  of  the  Darro,  the  streets  and 
convents  of  the  Albaycin,  and  command  a  prospect  of  the  dis 
tant  Vega.  I  might  go  on  to  describe  the  other  delightful 
apartments  of  this  side  of  the  palace ;  the  Tocador  or  toilet  of 
the  Queen,  an  open  belvedere  on  the  summit  of  the  tower, 
where  the  Moorish  sultanas  enjoyed  the  pure  breezes  from  the 
mountain  and  the  prospect  of  the  surrounding  paradise.  The 
secluded  little  patio  or  garden  of  Lindaraxa,  with  its  alabaster 


28  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

fountain,  its  thickets  of  roses  and  myrtles,  of  citrons  and 
oranges.  The  cool  halls  and  grottoes  of  the  baths,  where  the 
glare  and  heat  of  day  are  tempered  into  a  self -mysterious  light 
and  a  pervading  freshness.  But  I  appear  to  dwell  minutely 
on  these  scenes.  My  object  is  merely  to  give  the  reader  a  gen 
eral  introduction  into  an  abode,  where,  if  disposed,  he  may 
linger  and  loiter  with  me  through  the  remainder  of  this  work, 
gradually  becoming  familiar  with  all  its  beauties. 

An  abundant  supply  of  water,  brought  from  the  mountains 
by  old  Moorish  aqueducts,  circulates  throughout  the  palace, 
supplying  its  baths  and  fish-pools,  sparkling  in  jets  within  its 
halls,  or  murmuring  in  channels  along  the  marble  pavements. 
When  it  has  paid  its  tribute  to  the  royal  pile,  and  visited  its 
gardens  and  pastures,  it  flows  down  the  long  avenue  leading 
to  the  city,  tinkling  in  rills,  gushing  in  fountains,  and  main 
taining  a  perpetual  verdure  in  those  groves  that  embower  and 
beautify  the  whole  hill  of  the  Alhambra. 

Those,  only,  who  have  sojourned  in  the  ardent  climates  of 
the  South,  can  appreciate  the  delights  of  an  abode  combining 
the  breezy  coolness  of  the  mountain  with  the  freshness  and 
verdure  of  the  valley. 

While  the  city  below  pants  with  the  noon-tide  heat,  and  the 
parched  Vega  trembles  to  the  eye,  the  delicate  airs  from  the 
Sierra  Nevada  play  through  the  lofty  halls,  bringing  with 
them  the  sweetness  of  the  surrounding  gardens.  Every  thing 
invites  to  that  indolent  repose,  the  bliss  of  Southern  climes; 
and  while  the  half -shut  eye  looks  out  from  shaded  balconies 
upon  the  glittering  landscape,  the  ear  is  lulled  by  the  rustling 
of  groves,  and  the  murmur  of  running  streams. 


THE  TOWEE  OF  COMAEES. 

THE  reader  has  had  a  sketch  of  the  interior  of  the  Alhambra, 
and  may  be  desirous  of  a  general  idea  of  its  vicinity.  The 
morning  is  serene  and  lovely;  the  sun  has  not  gained  suffi 
cient  power  to  destroy  the  freshness  of  the  night;  we  will 
mount  to  the  summit  of  the  tower  of  Comares,  and  take  a 
bird's-eye  view  of  Granada  and  its  environs. 

Come,  then,  worthy  reader  and  comrade,  follow  my  steps 
into  this  vestibule  ornamented  with  rich  tracery,  which  opens 
to  the  hall  of  Ambassadors.  We  will  not  enter  the  hall,  how 


THE  TOWER  OF  COMAKES.  29 

ever,  but  turn  to  the  left,  to  this  small  door,  opening  in  the 
wall.  Have  a  care!  here  are  steep  winding  steps  and  but 
scanty  light.  Yet,  up  this  narrow,  obscure  and  winding  stair 
case,  the  proud  monarchs  of  Granada  and  their  queens  have 
often  ascended  to  the  battlements  of  the  tower  to  watch  the 
approach  of  Christian  armies ;  or  to  gaze  on  the  battles  in  the 
Vega.  At  length  we  are  upon  the  terraced  roof,  and  may  take 
breath  for  a  moment,  while  we  cast  a  general  eye  over  the 
splendid  panorama  of  city  and  country,  of  rocky  mountain, 
verdant  valley  and  fertile  plain ;  of  castle,  cathedral,  Moorish 
towers  and  Gothic  domes,  crumbling  ruins  and  blooming 
groves. 

Let  us  approach  the  battlements  and  cast  our  eyes  imme 
diately  below.  See, — on  this  side  we  have  the  whole  plan  of 
the  Alhambra  laid  open  to  us,  and  can  look  down  into  its 
courts  and  gardens.  At  the  foot  of  the  tower  is  the  Court  of 
the  Alberca  with  its  great  tank  or  fish-pool  bordered  with 
flowers;  and  yonder  is  the  Court  of  Lions,  with  its  famous 
fountain,  and  its  light  Moorish  arcades;  and  in  the  centre  of 
the  pile  is  the  little  garden  of  Lindaraxa,  buried  in  the  heart 
of  the  building,  with  its  roses  and  citrons  and  shrubbery  of 
emerald  green. 

That  belt  of  battlements  studded  with  square  towers,  strag 
gling  round  the  whole  brow  of  the  hill,  is  the  outer  boundary 
of  the  fortress.  Some  of  the  towers,  you  may  perceive,  are  in 
ruins,  and  their  massive  fragments  are  buried  among  vines, 
fig-trees  and  aloes. 

Let  us  look  on  this  northern  side  of  the  tower.  It  is  a  giddy 
height;  the  very  foundations  of  the  tower  rise  above  the 
groves  of  the  steep  hill-side.  And  see,  a  long  fissure  in  the 
massive  walls  shows  that  the  tower  has  been  rent  by  some  of 
the  earthquakes,  which  from  time  to  time  have  thrown  Grana 
da  into  consternation ;  and  which,  sooner  or  later,  must  reduce 
this  crumbling  pile  to  a  mere  mass  of  ruin.  The  deep  narrow 
glen  below  us,  which  gradually  widens  as  it  opens  from  the 
mountains,  is  the  valley  of  the  Darro ;  you  see  the  little  river 
winding  its  way  under  embowered  terraces,  and  among  or 
chards  and  flower  gardens.  It  is  a  stream  famous  in  old  tunes 
for  yielding  gold,  and  its  sands  are  still  sifted,  occasionally,  in 
search  of  the  precious  ore. 

Some  of  those  white  pavilions  which  here  and  there  gleam 
from  among  groves  and  vineyards,  were  rustic  retreats  of  the 
Moors,  to  enjoy  the  refreshment  of  their  gardens. 


30  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

The  airy  palace  with  its  tall  white  towers  and  long  arcades, 
which  breast  yon  mountain,  among  pompous  groves  and  hang 
ing  gardens,  is  the  Generaliffe,  a  summer  palace  of  the  Moor 
ish  kings,  to  which  they  resorted  during  the  sultry  months, 
to  enjoy  a  still  more  breezy  region  than  that  of  the  Alhambra. 
The  naked  summit  of  the  height  above  it,  where  you  behold 
some  shapeless  ruins,  is  the  Silla  del  Moro,  or  seat  of  the  Moor; 
so  called  from  having  been  a  retreat  of  the  unfortunate  Boab- 
dil,  during  the  time  of  an  insurrection,  where  he  seated  himself 
and  looked  down  mournfully  upon  his  rebellious  city. 

A  murmuring  sound  of  water  now  and  then  rises  from  the 
valley.  It  is  from  the  aqueduct  of  yon  Moorish  mill  nearly  at 
the  foot  of  the  hill.  The  avenue  of  trees  beyond,  is  the  Ala- 
meda  along  the  bank  of  the  Darro,  a  favourite  resort  in  even 
ings,  and  a  rendezvous  of  lovers  in  the  summer  nights,  when 
the  guitar  may  be  heard  at  a  late  hour  from  the  benches  along 
its  walks.  At  present  there  are  but  a  few  loitering  monks  to 
be  seen  there,  and  a  group  of  water  carriers  from  the  fountain 
of  Avellanos. 

You  start !  'Tis  nothing  but  a  hawk  we  have  frightened 
from  his  nest.  This  old  tower  is  a  complete  brooding-place  for 
vagrant  birds.  The  swallow  and  martlet  abound  in  every 
chink  and  cranny,  and  circle  about  it  the  whole  day  long ; 
while  at  night,  when  all  other  birds  have  gone  to  rest,  the  mop 
ing  owl  comes  out  of  its  lurking  place,  and  utters  its  boding 
cry  from  the  battlements.  See  how  the  hawk  we  have  dis 
lodged  sweeps  away  below  us,  skimming  over  the  tops  of  the 
trees,  and  sailing  up  to  ruins  above  the  Generaliffe. 

Let  us  leave  this  side  of  the  tower  and  turn  our  eyes  to  the 
west.  Here  you  behold  in  the  distance  a  range  of  mountains 
bounding  the  Vega,  the  ancient  barrier  between  Moslem  Grana 
da  and  the  land  of  the  Christians.  Among  the  heights  you 
may  still  discern  warrior  towns,  whose  gray  walls  and  battle 
ments  seem  of  a  piece  with  the  rocks  on  which  they  are  built; 
while  here  and  there  is  a  solitary  atalaya  or  watch-tower, 
mounted  on  some  lofty  point,  and  looking  down  as  if  it  were 
from  the  sky,  into  the  valleys  on  either  side.  It  was  down  the 
defiles  of  these  mountains,  by  the  pass  of  Lope,  that  the  Chris 
tian  armies  descended  into  the  Vega.  It  was  round  the  base 
of  yon  gray  and  naked  mountain,  almost  insulated  from  the 
rest,  and  stretching  its  bald  rocky  promontory  into  the  bosom 
of  the  plain,  that  the  invading  squadrons  would  come  bursting 
into  view,  with  flaunting  banners  and  the  clangour  of  drums 


THE  TOWER   OF  COM  ARES.  31 

and  trumpets.  How  changed  is  the  scene!  Instead  of  the 
glittering  line  of  mailed  warriors,  we  behold  the  patient  train 
of  the  toilful  muleteer,  slowly  moving  along  the  skirts  of  the 
mountain. 

Behind  that  promontory,  is  the  eventful  bridge  of  Pinos, 
renowned  for  many  a  bloody  strife  between  Moors  and  Chris 
tians  ;  but  still  more  renowned  as  being  the  place  where  Co 
lumbus  was  overtaken  and  called  back  by  the  messenger  of 
Queen  Isabella,  just  as  he  was  departing  in  despair  to  carry 
his  project  of  discovery  to  the  court  of  France. 

Behold  another  place  famous  in  the  history  of  the  discoverer: 
yon  line  of  walls  and  towers,  gleaming  in  the  morning  sun  in 
the  very  centre  of  the  Vega ;  the  city  of  Santa  Fe,  built  by  the 
Catholic  sovereigns  during  the  siege  of  Granada,  after  a  con 
flagration  bad  destroyed  their  camp.  It  was  to  these  walls 
that  Columbus  was  called  back  by  the  heroic  queen,  and  within 
them  the  treaty  was  concluded  that  led  to  the  discovery  of  the 
Western  World. 

Here,  towards  the  south,  the  eye  revels  on  the  luxuriant 
beauties  of  the  Vega ;  a  blooming  wilderness  of  grove  and  gar 
den,  and  teeming  orchards ;  with  the  Xenil  winding  through 
it  in  silver  links  and  feeding  innumerable  rills,  conducted 
through  ancient  Moorish  channels,  which  maintain  the  land 
scape  in  perpetual  verdure.  Here  are  the  beloved  bowers  and 
gardens,  and  rural  retreats  for  which  the  Moors  fought  with 
such  desperate  valour.  The  very  farm-houses  and  hovels 
which  are  now  inhabited  by  the  boors,  retain  traces  of  ara 
besques  and  other  tasteful  decorations,  which  show  them  to 
have  been  elegant  residences  in  the  days  of  the  Moslems. 

Beyond  the  embowered  region  of  the  Vega  you  behold,  to 
the  south,  a  line  of , arid  hills  down  which  a  long  train  of  mules 
is  slowly  moving.  It  was  from  the  summit  of  one  of  those 
hills  that  the  unfortunate  Boabdil  cast  back  his  last  look  upon 
Granada  and  gave  vent  to  the  agony  of  his  soul.  It  is  the  spot 
famous  in  song  and  story,  ' '  The  last  sigh  of  the  Moor. " 

Now  raise  your  eyes  to  the  snowy  summit  of  yon  pile  of 
mountains,  shining  like  a  white  summer  cloud  on  the  blue  sky. 
It  is  the  Sierra  Nevada,  the  pride  and  delight  of  Granada ;  the 
source  of  her  cooling  breezes  and  perpetual  verdure,  of  her 
gushing  fountains  and  perennial  streams.  It  is  this  glorious 
pile  of  mountains  that  gives  to  Granada  that  combination  of 
delights  so  rare  in  a  southern  city.  The  fresh  vegetation,  and 
the  temperate  airs  of  a  northern  climate,  with  the  vivifying 


32  THE  ALUAMBRA. 

ardour  of  a  tropical  sun,  and  the  cloudless  azure  of  a  southern 
sky.  It  is  this  aerial  treasury  of  snow,  which,  melting  in 
proportion  to  the  increase  of  the  summer  heat,  sends  down 
rivulets  and  streams  through  every  glen  and  gorge  of  the  Al- 
puxarras,  diffusing  emerald  verdure  and  fertility  throughout  a 
chain  of  happy  and  sequestered  valleys. 

These  mountains  may  well  be  called  the  glory  of  Granada. 
They  dominate  the  whole  extent  of  Andalusia,  and  may  b( 
seen  from  its  most  distant  parts.  The  muleteer  hails  them  as 
he  views  their  frosty  peaks  from  the  sultry  level  of  the  plain ; 
and  the  Spanish  mariner  on  the  deck  of  his  bark,  far,  far  off, 
on  the  bosom  of  the  blue  Mediterranean,  watches  them  with  a 
pensive  eye,  thinks  of  delightful  Granada,  and  chants  in  low 
voice  some  old  romance  about  the  Moors. 

But  enough,  the  sun  is  high  above  the  mountains,  and  is 
pouring  his  full  fervour  upon  our  heads.  Already  the  terraced 
roof  of  the  town  is  hot  beneath  our  feet,  let  us  abandon  it,  and 
descend  and  refresh  ourselves  under  the  arcades  by  the  foun 
tain  of  the  Lions. 


REFLECTIONS  . 

ON  THE  MOSLEM  DOMINATION   IN  SPAIN. 

ONE  of  my  favourite  resorts  ir.  the  balcony  of  the  central 
window  of  the  Hall  of  Ambassadors,  in  the  lofty  tower  of 
Comares.  I  have  just  been  seated  there,  enjoying  the  close  of 
a  long  brilliant  day.  The  sun,  as  he  sank  behind  the  purple 
mountains  of  Alhama,  sent  a  stream  of  effulgence  up  the  val 
ley  of  the  Darro,  that  spread  a  melancholy  pomp  over  tho 
ruddy  towers  of  the  Alhambra,  while  the  Vega,  covered  with 
a  slight  sultry  vapour  that  caught  the  setting  ray,  seemed 
spread  out  in  the  distance  like  a  golden  sea.  Not  a  breath  of 
air  disturbed  the  stillness  of  the  hour,  and  though  the  faint 
sound  of  music  and  merriment  now  and  then  arose  from  the 
gardens  of  the  Darro,  it  but  rendered  more  impressive  the 
monumental  silence  of  the  pile  which  overshadowed  me.  It 
was  one  of  those  hours  and  scenes  in  which  memory  asserts  an 
almost  magical  power,  and,  like  the  evening  sun  beaming  on 
these  mouldering  towers,  sends  back  her  retrospective  rays  to 
light  up  the  glories  of  the  past. 


REFLECTIONS.  33 

As  I  sat  watching  the  effect  of  the  declining  daylight  upon 
this  Moorish  pile,  I  was  led  into  a  consideration  of  the  light, 
elegant  and  voluptuous  character  prevalent  throughout  its 
internal  architecture,  and  to  contrast  it  with  the  grand  but 
gloomy  solemnity  of  the  Gothic  edifices,  reared  by  the  Spanish 
conquerors.  The  very  architecture  thus  bespeaks  the  opposite 
and  irreconcilable  natures  of  the  two  warlike  people,  who  so 
long  battled  here  for  the  mastery  of  the  Peninsula.  By  de 
grees  I  fell  into  a  course  of  musing  upon  the  singular  features 
of  the  Arabian  or  Morisco  Spaniards,  whose  whole  existence  is 
as  a  tale  that  is  told,  and  certainly  forms  one  of  the  most 
anomalous  yet  splendid  episodes  in  history.  Potent  and  dura 
ble  as  was  their  dominion,  we  have  no  one  distinct  title  by 
which  to  designate  them.  They  were  a  nation,  as  it  were, 
without  a  legitimate  country  or  a  name.  A  remote  wave  of 
the  great  Arabian  inundation,  cast  upon  the  shores  of  Europe, 
they  seemed  to  have  all  the  impetus  of  the  first  rush  of  the 
torrent.  Their  course  of  conquest  from  the  rock  of  Gibraltar 
to  the  cliffs  of  the  Pyrenees,  was  as  rapid  and  brilliant  as  the 
Moslem  victories  of  Syria  and  Egypt.  Nay,  had  they  not 
been  checked  on  the  plains  of  Tours,  all  France,  all  Europe, 
might  have  been  overrun  with  the  same  facility  as  the  empires 
of  the  east,  and  the  crescent  might  at  this  day  have  glittered 
on  the  fanes  of  Paris  and  of  London. 

Repelled  within  the  limits  of  the  Pyrenees,  the  mixed  hordes 
of  Asia  and  Africa  that  formed  this  great  irruption,  gave  up 
the  Moslem  principles  of  conquest,  and  sought  to  establish  in 
Spain  a  peaceful  and  permanent  dominion.  As  conquerors 
their  heroism  was  only  equalled  by  their  moderation ;  and  in 
both,  for  a  time,  they  excelled  the  nations  with  whom  they 
contended.  Severed  from  their  native  homes,  they  loved  the 
land  given  them,  as  they  supposed,  by  Allah,  and  strove  to 
embellish  it  with  every  thing  that  could  administer  to  the 
happiness  of  man.  Laying  the  foundations  of  their  power  in 
a  system  of  wise  and  equitable  laws,  diligently  cultivating  the 
arts  and  sciences,  and  promoting  agriculture,  manufactures, 
and  commerce,  they  gradually  formed  an  empire  unrivalled 
for  its  prosperity,  by  any  of  the  empires  of  Christendom ;  and 
diligently  drawing  round  them  the  graces  and  refinements 
that  marked  the  Arabian  empire  in  the  east  at  the  time  of  its 
greatest  civilization,  they  diffused  the  light  of  oriental  know 
ledge  through  the  western  regions  of  benighted  Europe. 

The  cities  of  Arabian  Spain  became  the  resort  of  Christian 


34  THE  ALHAMBRA. . 

artisans,  to  instruct  themselves  in  the  useful  arts.  The  uni 
versities  of  Toledo,  Cordova,  Seville,  and  Granada  were  sought 
by  the  pale  student  from  other  lands,  to  acquaint  himself  with 
the  sciences  of  the  Arabs,  and  the  treasured  lore  of  antiquity ; 
the  lovers  of  the  gay  sciences  resorted  to  Cordova  and  Gra- 
riada,  to  imbibe  the  poetry  and  music  of  the  east ;  and  the 
steel-clad  warriors  of  the  north  hastened  thither,  to  accom 
plish  themselves  in  the  graceful  exercises  and  courteous  usages 
of  chivalry. 

If  the  Moslem  monuments  in  Spain ;  if  the  Mosque  of  Cor 
dova,  the  Alcazar  of  Seville  and  the  Alhambra  of  Granada, 
still  bear  inscriptions  fondly  boasting  of  the  power  and  per 
manency  of  their  dominion,  can  the  boast  be  derided  as  arro 
gant  and  vain?  Generation  after  generation,  century  after 
century  had  passed  away,  and  still  they  maintained  pos 
session  of  the  land.  A  period  had  elapsed  longer  than  that 
which  has  passed  since  England  was  subjugated  by  the  Nor 
man  conqueror ;  and  the  descendants  of  Musa  and  Tarik  might 
as  little  anticipate  being  driven  into  exile,  across  the  same 
straits  traversed  by  their  triumphant  ancestors,  as  the  de 
scendants  of  Eollo  and  William  and  their  victorious  peers  may 
dream  of  being  driven  back  to  the  shores  of  Normandy. 

With  all  this,  however,  the  Moslem  empire  in  Spain  was  but 
a  brilliant  exotic  that  took  no  permanent  root  in  the  soil  it  em 
bellished.  Severed  from  all  their  neighbours  of  the  west  by 
impassable  barriers  of  faith  and  manners,  and  separated  by 
seas  and  deserts  from  their  kindred  of  the  east,  they  were  an 
isolated  people.  Their  whole  existence  was  a  prolonged  though 
gallant  and  chivalric  struggle  fora  foot-hold  in  a  usurped  land. 
They  were  the  outposts  and  frontiers  of  Islamism.  The  pen 
insula  was  the  great 'battle  ground  where  the  Gothic  con 
querors  of  the  north  and  the  Moslem  conquerors  of  the  east, 
met  and  strove  for  mastery ;  and  the  fiery  courage  of  the  Arab 
was  at  length  subdued  by  the  obstinate  and  persevering  valour 
of  the  Goth. 

Never  was  the  annihilation  of  a  people  more  complete  than 
that  of  the  Morisco  Spaniards.  Where  are  they?  Ask  the 
shores  of  Barbary  and  its  desert  places.  The  exiled  remnant 
of  their  once  powerful  empire  disappeared  among  the  bar 
barians  of  Africa,  and  ceased  to  be  a  nation.  They  have  not 
even  left  a  distinct  name  behind  them,  though  for  nearly  eight 
centuries  they  were  a  distinct  people.  The  home  of  their 
adoption  and  of  their  occupation  for  ages  refuses  to  acknow* 


THE  HOUSEHOLD.  35 

ledge  them  but  as  invaders  and  usurpers.  A  few  broken 
monuments  are  all  that  remain  to  bear  witness  to  their  power 
and  dominion,  as  solitary  rocks  left  far  in  the  interior  bear 
testimony  to  the  extent  of  some  vast  inundation.  Such  is  the 
Alhambra.  A  Moslem  pile  in  the  midst  of  a  Christian  land ; 
an  oriental  palace  amidst  the  Gothic  edifices  of  the  west ;  an 
elegant  memento  of  a  brave,  intelligent  and  graceful  people^ 
who  conquered,  ruled,  and  passed  away. 


THE  HOUSEHOLD. 

IT  is  time  that  I  give  some  idea  of  my  domestic  arrangements 
in  this  singular  residence.  The  royal  palace  of  the  Alhambra 
is  intrusted  to  the  care  of  a  good  old  maiden  dame  called  Dona 
Antonia  Molina,  but  who,  according  to  Spanish  custom,  goes 
by  the  more  neighbourly  appellation  of  Tia  Antonia  (Aunt  An 
tonia).  She  maintains  the  Moorish  halls  and  gardens  in  order, 
and  shows  them  to  strangers ;  in  consideration  of  which,  she  is 
allowed  all  the  perquisites  received  from  visitors  and  all  the 
produce  of  the  gardens,  excepting  that  she  is  expected  to  pay 
an  occasional  tribute  of  fruits  and  flowers  to  the  governor. 
Her  residence  is  in  a  corner  of  the  palace,  and  her  family  con- 
sists  of  a  nephew  and  niece,  the  children  of  two  different  broth 
ers.  The  nephew,  Manuel  Molina,  is  a  young  man  of  sterling 
worth  and  Spanish  gravity.  He  has  served  in  the  armies  both 
in  Spain  and  the  West  Indies,  but  is  now  studying  medicine  in 
hopes  of  one  day  or  other  becoming  physician  to  the  for 
tress,  a  post  worth  at  least  a  hundred  and  forty  dollars  a  year. 
As  to  the  niece,  she  is  a  plump  little  black-eyed  Andalusian 
damsel  named  Dolores,  but  who  from  her  bright  looks  and 
cheerful  disposition  merits  a  merrier  name.  She  is  the  declared 
heiress  of  all  her  aunt's  possessions,  consisting  of  certain  ruin 
ous  tenements  in  the  fortress,  yielding  a  revenue  of  about  one 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  I  had  not  been  long  in  the  Alham 
bra  before  I  discovered  that  a  quiet  courtship  was  going  on  be 
tween  the  discreet  Manuel  and  his  bright-eyed  cousin,  and  that 
nothing  was  wanting  to  enable  them  to  join  their  hands  and 
expectations,  but  that  he  should  receive  his  doctor's  diploma, 
and  purchase  a  dispensation  from  the  pope,  on  account  of  their 
consanguinity. 


36  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

With  the  good  dame  Antonia  I  have  made  a  treaty,  accord 
ing  to  which,  she  furnishes  me  with  board  and  lodging,  while 
the  merry-hearted  little  Dolores  keeps  my  apartment  in  order 
and  officiates  as  handmaid  at  meal  times.  I  have  also  at  my 
command  a  tall,  stuttering,  yellow-haired  lad  named  Pepe, 
who  works  in  the  garden,  and  would  fain  have  acted  as  valet, 
but  in  this  he  was  forestalled  by  Mateo  Ximenes,  u  The  son  of 
the  Alhambra."  This  alert  and  officious  wight  has  managed, 
somehow  or  other,  to  stick  by  me,  ever  since  I  first  encountered 
him  at  the  outer  gate  of  the  fortress,  and  to  weave  himself  into 
all  my  plans,  until  he  has  fairly  appointed  and  installed  him 
self  my  valet,  cicerone,  guide,  guard,  and  historic-graphic 
squire ;  and  I  have  been  obliged  to  improve  the  state  of  his 
wardrobe,  that  he  may  not  disgrace  his  various  functions,  so 
that  he  has  cast  off  his  old  brown  mantle,  as  a  snake  does  his 
skin,  and  now  figures  about  the  fortress  with  a  smart  Andaiu- 
sian  hat  and  jacket,  to  his  infinite  satisfaction  and  the  great 
astonishment  of  his  comrades.  The  chief  fault  of  honest  Mateo 
is  an  over-anxiety  to  be  useful.  Conscious  of  having  foisted 
himself  into  my  employ,  and  that  my  simple  and  quiet  habits 
render  his  situation  a  sinecure,  he  is  at  his  wit's  end  to  devise 
modes  of  making  himself  important  to  my  welfare.  I  am  in  a 
manner  the  victim  of  his  officiousness ;  I  cannot  put  my  foot 
over  the  threshold  of  the  palace  to  stroll  about  the  fortress,  but 
he  is  at  my  elbow  to  explain  every  thing  I  see,  and  if  I  venture 
to  ramble  among  the  surrounding  hills,  he  insists  upon  attend 
ing  me  as  a  guard,  though  I  vehemently  suspect  he  would  be 
more  apt  to  trust  to  the  length  of  his  legs  than  the  strength  of 
his  arms  in  case  of  attack.  After  all,  however,  the  poor  fellow 
is  at  times  an  amusing  companion ;  he  is  simple-minded  and  of 
infinite  good  humour,  with  the  loquacity  and  gossip  of  a  village 
barber,  and  knows  all  the  small  talk  of  the  place  and  its  envi 
rons  ;  but  what  he  chiefly  values  himself  on  is  his  stock  of  local 
information,  having  the  most  marvellous  stories  to  relate  of 
every  tower,  and  vault  and  gateway  of  the  fortress,  in  all  of 
which  he  places  the  most  implicit  faith. 

Most  of  these  he  has  derived,  according  to  his  own  account, 
from  his  grandfather,  a  little  legendary  tailor,  who  lived  to  the 
age  of  nearly  a  hundred  years,  during  which  he  made  but  two 
migrations  beyond  the  precincts  of  the  fortress.  His  shop,  for 
the  greater  part  of  a  century,  was  the  resort  of  a  knot  of  vener 
able  gossips,  where  they  would  pass  half  the  night  talking  about 
old  times  and  the  wonderful  events  and  hidden  secrets  of  the 


THE  HOUSEHOLD.  37 

place.  The  whole  living,  moving,  thinking  and  acting  of  this 
little  historical  tailor,  had  thus  been  bounded  by  the  walls  of 
the  Alhambra ;  within  them  he  had  been  born,  within  them  he 
Jived,  breathed  and  had  his  being,  within  them  he  died  and 
was  buried.  Fortunately  for  posterity  his  traditionary  lore 
died  not  with  him.  The  authentic  Mateo,  when  an  urchin, 
used  to  be  an  attentive  listener  to  the  narratives  of  his  grand 
father  and  of  the  gossip  group  assembled  round  the  shop  board, 
and  is  thus  possessed  of  a  stock  of  valuable  knowledge  concern 
ing  the  Alhambra,  not  to  be  found  in  the  books,  and  well 
worthy  the  attention  of  every  curious  traveller. 

Such  are  the  personages  that  contribute  to  my  domestic  com 
forts  in  the  Alhambra,  and  I  question  whether  any  of  the  po 
tentates,  Moslem  or  Christian,  who  have  preceded  me  in  the 
palace,  have  been  waited  upon  with  greater  fidelity  or  enjoyed 
a  serener  sway. 

When  I  rise  in  the  morning,  Pepe,  the  stuttering  lad,  from 
the  gardens,  brings  me  a  tribute  of  fresh  culled  flowers,  which 
are  afterwards  arranged  in  vases  by  the  skilful  hand  of  Dolores, 
who  takes  no  small  pride  in  the-  decorations  of  my  chamber. 
My  meals  are  made  wherever  caprice  dictates,  sometimes  in 
one  of  the  Moorish  halls,  sometimes  under  the  arcades  of  the 
Court  of  Lions,  surrounded  by  flowers  and  fountains;  and 
when  I  walk  out  I  am  conducted  by  the  assiduous  Mateo  to  the 
most  romantic  retreats  of  the  mountains  and  delicious  haunts 
of  the  adjacent  valleys,  not  one  of  which  but  is  the  scene  of 
some  wonderful  tale. 

Though  fond  of  passing  the  greater  part  of  my  day  alone,  yet 
I  occasionally  repair  in  the  evenings  to  the  little  domestic  cir 
cle  of  Dona  Antonia.  This  is  generally  held  in  an  old  Moorish 
chamber,  that  serves  for  kitchen  as  well  as  hall,  a  rude  fire 
place  having  been  made  in  one  corner,  the  smoke  from  which 
has  discoloured  the  walls  and  almost  obliterated  the  uncient 
arabesques.  A  window  with  a  balcony  overhanging  the  bal 
cony  of  the  Darro,  lets  in  the  cool  evening  breeze,  and  here  I 
take  my  frugal  supper  of  fruit  and  milk,  and  mingle  with  the 
conversation  of  the  family.  There  is  a  natural  talent,  or  mother 
wit,  as  it  is  called,  about  the  Spaniards,  which  renders  them 
intellectual  and  agreeable  companions,  whatever  may  be  their 
condition  in  life,  or  however  imperfect  may  have  been  their 
education;  add  to  this,  they  are  never  vulgar;  nature  has  en 
dowed  them  with  an  inherent  dignity  of  spirit.  The  good  Tia 
Antonia  is  a  woman  of  strong  and  intelligent,  though  unculti- 


38  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

vated  mind,  and  the  bright-eyed  Dolores,  though  she  has  read 
but  three  or  four  books  in  the  whole  course  of  her  life,  has  an 
engaging  mixture  of  naivete  and  good  sense,  and  often  sur 
prises  me  by  the  pungency  of  her  artless  sallies.  Sometimes 
the  nephew  entertains  us  by  reading  some  old  comedy  of  Cal- 
deron  or  Lope  de  Vega,  to  which  he  is  evidently  prompted  by 
a  desire  to  improve  as  well  as  amuse  his  cousin  Dolores,  though 
to  his  great  mortification  the  little  damsel  generally  falls  asleep 
before  the  first  act  is  completed.  Sometimes  Tia  Antonia  has 
a  little  bevy  of  humble  friends  and  dependants,  the  inhabitants 
of  the  adjacent  hamlet,  or  the  wives  of  the  invalid  soldiers. 
These  look  up  to  her  with  great  deference  as  the  custodian  of 
the  palace,  and  pay  their  court  to  her  by  bringing  the  news  of 
the  place,  or  the  rumours  that  may  have  straggled  up  from 
Granada.  In  listening  to  the  evening  gossipings,  I  have  picked 
up  many  curious  facts,  illustrative  of  the  manners  of  the  people 
and  the  peculiarities  of  the  neighbourhood. 

These  are  simple  details  of  simple  pleasures;  it  is  the  nature 
of  the  place  alone  that  gives  them  interest  and  importance.  I 
tread  haunted  ground  and  am  surrounded  by  romantic  asso 
ciations.  From  earliest  boyhood,  when,  on  the  banks  of  the 
Hudson,  I  first  pored  over  the  pages  of  an  old  Spanish  story 
about  the  wars  of  Granada,  that  city  has  ever  been  a  subject 
of  my  waking  dreams,  and  often  have  I  trod  in  fancy  the 
romantic  halls  of  the  Alhambra.  Behold  for  once  a  day-dream 
realized ;  yet  I  can  scarcely  credit  my  senses  or  believe  that  I 
do  indeed  inhabit  the  palace  of  Boabdil,  and  look  down  from 
its  balconies  upon  chivalric  Granada.  As  I  loiter  through  the 
oriental  chambers,  and  hear  the  murmuring  of  fountains  and 
the  song  of  the  nightingale :  as  I  inhale  the  odour  of  the  rose 
and  feel  the  influence  of  the  balmy  climate,  I  am  almost 
tempted  to  fancy  myself  in  the  Paradise  of  Mahomet,  and  that 
the  plump  little  Dolores  is  one  of  the  bright-eyed  Houris,  des- 
ttned  to  administer  to  the  happiness  of  true  believers. 


THE  TRUANT. 

SINCE  writing  the  foregoing  pages,  we  have  had  a  scene  of 
petty  tribulation  in  the  Alhambra  which  has  thrown  a  cloud 
wer  the  sunny  countenance  of  Dolores.  This  little  damsel  has 


THE  TRUANT.  39 

a  female  passion  for  pets  of  all  kinds,  from  the  superabundant 
kindness  of  her  disposition.  One  of  the  ruined  courts  of  the 
Alhambra  is  thronged  with  her  favourites.  A  stately  peacock 
and  his  hen  seem  to  hold  regal  sway  here,  over  pompous  tur 
keys,  querulous  guinea  fowls,  and  a  rabble  rout  of  common 
cocks  and  hens.  The  great  delight  of  Dolores,  however,  has 
for  some  time  past  been  centred  in  a  youthful  pair  of  pigeons, 
who  have  lately  entered  into  the  holy  state  of  wedlock,  and 
who  have  even  supplanted  a  tortoise  shell  cat  and  kitten  in  her 
affections. 

As  a  tenement  for  them  to  commence  housekeeping  she  had 
fitted  up  a  small  chamber  adjacent  to  the  kitchen,  the  window 
of  which  looked  into  one  of  the  quiet  Moorish  courts.  Here 
they  lived  in  happy  ignorance  of  any  world  beyond  the  court 
and  its  sunny  roofs.  In  vain  they  aspired  to  soar  above  the 
battlements,  or  to  mount  to  the  summit  of  the  towers.  Their 
virtuous  union  was  at  length  crowned  by  two  spotless  and 
milk  white  eggs,  to  the  great  joy  of  their  cherishing  little  mis 
tress.  Nothing  could  be  more  praiseworthy  than  the  conduct 
of  the  young  married  folks  on  this  interesting  occasion.  They 
took  turns  to  sit  upon  the  nest  until  the  eggs  were  hatched, 
and  while  their  callow  progeny  required  warmth  and  shelter. 
While  one  thus  stayed  at  home,  the  other  foraged  abroad  for 
food,  and  brought  home  abundant  supplies. 

This  scene  of  conjugal  felicity  ha&  suddenly  met  with  a  re 
verse.  Early  this  morning,  as  Dolores  was  feeding  the  male 
pigeon,  she  took  a  fancy  to  give  him  a  peep  at  the  great  world. 
Opening  a  window,  therefore,  which  looks  down  upon  the  val 
ley  of  the  Darro,  she  launched  him  at  once  beyond  the  walls  of 
the  Alhambra.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life  the  astonished 
bird  had  to  try  the  full  vigour  of  his  wings.  He  swept  down 
into  the  valley,  and  then  rising  upwards  with  a  surge,  soared 
almost  to  the  clouds.  Never  before  had  he  risen  to  such  a 
height  or  experienced  such  delight  in  flying,  and  like  a  young 
spendthrift,  just  come  to  his  estate,  he  seemed  giddy  with 
excess  of  liberty,  and  with  the  boundless  field  of  action  sud 
denly  opened  to  him.  For  the  whole  day  he  has  been  circling 
about  in  capricious  flights,  from  tower  to  tower  and  from  tree 
to  tree.  Every  attempt  has  been  made  in  vain  to  lure  him 
back,  by  scattering  grain  upon  the  roofs ;  he  seems  to  have  lost 
all  thought  of  home,  of  his  tender  helpmate  and  his  callow 
young.  To  add  to  the  anxiety  of  Dolores,  he  has  been  joined 
by  two  palomas  ladrones,  or  robber  pigeons,  whose  instinct  it 


40  THE  ALIIAMBRA. 

is  to  entice  wandering  pigeons  to  their  own  dove-cotes.  The 
fugitive,  like  many  other  thoughtless  youths  on  their  first 
launching  upon  the  world,  seems  quite  fascinated  with  these 
knowing,  but  graceless,  companions,  who  have  undertaken  to 
show  him  life  and  introduce  him  to  society.  He  has  been 
soaring  with  them  over  all  the  rojof  s  and  steeples  of  Granada. 
A  thunder  shower  has  passed  over  the. city,  but  he  has  not 
sought  his  home ;  night  has  closed  in,  and  still  he  comes  not. 
To  deepen  the  pathos  of  the  affair,  the  female  pigeon,  after 
remaining  several  hours  on  the  nest  without  being  relieved,  at 
length  went  forth  to  seek  her  recreant  mate ;  but  stayed  away 
so  long  that  the  young  ones  perished  for  want  of  the  warmth 
and  shelter  of  the  parent  bosom. 

At  a  late  hour  in  the  evening,  word  was  brought  to  Dolores 
that  the  truant  bird  had  been  seen  upon  the  towers  of  the  Gen- 
eraliffe.  Now,  it  so  happens  that  the  Administrador  of  that 
ancient  palace  has  likewise  a  dove-cote,  among  the  inmates  of 
which  are  said  to  be  two  or  three  of  these  inveigling  birds,  the 
terror  of  all  neighbouring  pigeon  fanciers.  Dolores  immedi 
ately  concluded  that  the  two  feathered  sharpers  who  had  been 
seen  with  her  fugitive,  were  these  bloods  of  the  Generaliffe.  A 
council  of  war  was  forthwith  held  in  the  chamber  of  Tia  An- 
tonia.  The  Generaliffe  is  a  distinct  jurisdiction  from  the 
Alhambra,  and  of  course  some  punctilio,  if  not  jealousy,  exists 
between  their  custodians.  It  was  determined,  therefore,  to 
send  Pepe,  the  stuttering  lad  of  the  gardens,  as  ambassador  to 
the  Administrador,  requesting  that  if  such  fugitive  should  be 
found  in  his  dominions,  he  might  be  given  up  as  a  subject  of 
the  Alhambra.  Pepe  departed,  accordingly,  on  his  diplomatic 
expedition,  through  the  moonlit  groves  and  avenues,  but 
returned  in  an  hour  with  the  afflicting  intelligence  that  no 
such  bird  was  to'  be  found  in  the  dove-cote  of  the  Generaliffe. 
The  Administrador,  however,  pledged  his  sovereign  word,  that 
if  such  vagrant  should  appear  there,  even  at  midnight,  he 
should  instantly  be  arrested  and  sent  back  prisoner  to  his  little 
black-eyed  mistress. 

Thus  stands  this  melancholy  affair,  which  has  occasioned 
much  distress  throughout  the  palace,  and  has  sent  the  incon 
solable  Dolores  to  a  sleepless  pillow. 

"  Sorrow  endureth  for  a  night,"  says  the  proverb,  "but  joy 
ariseth  in  the  morning."  The  first  object  that  met  my  eyes  on 
leaving  my  room  this  morning  was  Dolores  with  the  truant 
pigeon  in  her  hand,  and  her  eyes  sparkling  with  joy.  He  had 


THE  AUTHORS  CHAMBER.  41 

appeared  at  an  early  hour  on  the  battlements,  hovering  shyly 
about  from  roof  to  roof,  but  at  length  entered  the  window  and 
surrendered  himself  prisoner.  He  gained  little  credit,  how 
ever,  by  his  return,  for  the  ravenous  manner  in  which  he 
devoured  the  food  set  before  him,  showed  that,  like  the  prodi 
gal  son,  he  had  been  driven  home  by  sheer  famine.  Dolores 
upbraided  him  for  his  faithless  conduct,  calling  him  all  manner 
of  vagrant  names,  though  woman-like,  she  fondled  him  at  the 
same  time  to  her  bosom  and  covered'  him  with  kisses.  I  ob 
served,  however,  that  she  had  taken  care  to  clip  his  wings  to 
prevent  all  future  soarings ;  a  precaution  which  I  mention  for 
the  benefit  of  all  those  who  have  truant  wives  or  wandering 
husbands.  More  than  one  valuable  moral  might  be  drawn 
from  the  story  of  Dolores  and  her  pigeon. 


THE  AUTHOE'S  CHAMBER. 

ON  taking  up  my  abode  in  the  Alhambra,  one  end  of  a  suite 
of  empty  chambers  of  modern  architecture,  intended  for  the 
residence  of  the  governor,  was  fitted  up  for  my  reception.  It 
was  in  front  of  the  palace,  looking  forth  upon  the  esplanade. 
The  farther  end  communiated  with  a  cluster  of  little  chambers, 
partly  Moorish,  partly  modern,  inhabited  by  Tia  Antonia  and 
her  family.  These  terminated  in  a  large  room  which  serves 
the  good  old  dame  for  parlour,  kitchen,  and  hall  of  audience. 
It  had  boasted  of  some  splendour  in  the  time  of  the  Moors,  lot 
a  fire-place  had  been  built  in  one  corner,  the  smoke  from  which 
had  discoloured  the  walls,  nearly  obliterated  the  ornaments, 
and  spread  a  sombre  tint  over  the  whole.  From  these  gloomy 
apartments,  a  narrow  blind  corridor  and  a  dark  winding 
staircase  led  down  an  angle  of  the  tower  of  Comares ;  gropinf 
down  which,  and  opening  a  small  door  at  the  bottom,  you  ar 
suddenly  dazzled  by  emerging  into  the  brilliant  antechamber 
of  the  hall  of  ambassadors,  wTith  the  fountain  of  the  court  of 
the  Alberca  sparkling  before  you. 

I  was  dissatisfied  with  being  lodged  in  a  modern  and  frontier 
apartment  of  the  palace,  and  longed  to  ensconce  myself  in  the 
very  heart  of  the  building. 

As  I  was  rambling  one  day  about  the  Moorish  halls,  I  found, 
in  a  remote  gallery,  a  door  which  I  had  not  before  noticed, 


42  THE  ALII  AM  BRA. 

communicating  apparently  with  an  extensive  apartment, 
locked  up  from  the  public:  Here  then  was  a  mystery.  Here 
was  the  haunted  wing  of  the  castle.  I  procured  the  key,  how 
ever,  without  difficulty.  The  door  opened  to  a  range  of  vacant 
chambers  of  European  architecture;  though  built  over  a 
Moorish  arcade,  along  the  little  garden  of  Lindaraxa.  There 
were  two  lofty  rooms,  the  ceilings  of  which  were  of  deep  panel 
work  of  cedar,  richly  and  skilfully  carved  with  fruits  and 
flowers,  intermingled  with  grotesque  masks  or  faces;  but 
broken  in  many  places.  The  walls  had  evidently,  in  ancient 
times,  been  hung  with  damask,  but  were  now  naked,  and 
scrawled  over  with  the  insignificant  names  of  aspiring  travel 
lers  ;  the  windows,  which  were  dismantled  and  open  to  wind 
and  weather,  looked  into  the  garden  of  Lindaraxa,  and  the 
orange  and  citron  trees  flung  their  branches  into  the  chambers. 
Beyond  these  rooms  were  two  saloons,  less  lofty,  looking  also 
into  the  garden.  In  the  compartments  of  the  panelled  ceiling 
were  baskets  of  fruit  and  garlands  of  flowers,  painted  by  no 
mean  hand,  and  in  tolerable  preservation.  The  walls  had  also 
been  painted  in  fresco  in  the  Italian  style,  but  the  paintings 
were  nearly  obliterated.  The  windows  were  in  the  same 
shattered  state  as  in  the  other  chambers. 

This  fanciful  suite  of  rooms  terminated  in  an  open  gallery 
with  balustrades,  which  ran  at  right  angles  along  another  side 
of  the  garden.  The  whole  apartment  had  a  delicacy  and 
elegance  in  its  decorations  and  there  was  something  so  choice 
and  sequestered  in  its  situation,  along  this  retired  little  garden, 
that  awakened  an  interest  in  its  history.  I  found,  on  inquiry, 
that  it  was  an  apartment  fitted  up  by  Italian  artists,  in  tho 
early  part  of  the  last  century,  at  the  time  when  Philip  V.  and 
the  beautiful  Elizabetta  of  Parma  were  expected  at  the 
Alhambra ;  and  was  destined  for  the  queen  and  the  ladies  of 
her  train.  One  of  the  loftiest  chambers  had  been  her  sleeping 
room,  and  a  narrow  staircase  leading  from  it,  though  now 
walled  up,  opened  to  the  delightful  belvedere,  originally  a 
mirador  of  the  Moorish  sultanas,  but  fitted  up  as  a  boudoir  for 
the  fair  Elizabetta,  and  which  still  retains  the  name  of  the 
Tocador,  or  toilette  of  the  queen.  The  sleeping  room  I  have 
mentioned,  commanded  from  one  window  a  prospect  of  the 
Generaliffe,  and  its  embowered  terraces;  under  another  win 
dow  placed  the  alabaster  fountain  of  the  garden  of  Lindaraxa. 
That  garden  carried  my  thoughts  still  farther  back,  to  the 
period  of  another  reign  of  beauty ;  to  the  days  of  the  Moorish 


THE  AUTHORS  CHAMBER.  43 

sultanas.  "How  beauteous  is  this  garden!"  says  an  Arabic 
inscription,  ' '  where  the  flowers  of  the  earth  vie  with  the  stars 
of  heaven !  what  can  compare  with  the  vase  of  yon  alabaster 
fountain  filled  with  crystal  water?  Nothing  but  the  moon  in 
her  fulness,  shining  in  the  midst  of  an  unclouded  sky!" 

Centuries  had  elapsed,  yet  how  much  of  this  scene  of  appa 
rently  fragile  beauty  remained !  The  garden  of  Lindaraxa  was 
still  adorned  with  flowers;  the  fountain  still  presented  its 
crystal  mirror :  it  is  true,  the  alabaster  had  lost  its  whiteness, 
and  the  basin  beneath,  overrun  with  weeds,  had  become  the 
nestling  place  of  the  lizard;  but  there  was  something  in  the 
very  decay  that  enhanced  the  interest  of  the  scene,  speaking, 
as  it  did,  of  that  mutability  which  is  the  irrevocable  lot  of  man 
and  all  his  works.  The  desolation,  too,  of  these  chambers,  once 
the  abode  of  the  proud  and  elegant  Elizabetta,  had  a  more 
touching  charm  for  me  than  if  I  had  beheld  them  in  theii 
pristine  splendour,  glittering  with  the  pageantry  of  a  court— I 
determined  at  once  to  take  up  my  quarters  in  this  apartment. 

My  determination  excited  grea-t  surprise  in  the  family ;  who 
could  not  imagine  any  rational  inducement  for  the  choice  of 
so  solitary,  remote  and  forlorn  an  apartment.  The  good  Tia 
Antonia  considered  it  highly  dangerous.  The  neighbourhood, 
she  said,  was  infested  by  vagrants ;  the  caverns  of  the  adjacent 
hills  swarmed  with  gipsies ;  the  palace  was  ruinous  and  easy 
to  be  entered  in  many  parts;  and  the  rumour  of  a  stranger 
quartered  alone  in  one  of  the  ruined  apartments,  out  of  the 
hearing  of  the  rest  of  the  inhabitants,  might  tempt  unwelcome 
visitors  in  the  night,  especially  as  foreigners  are  always  sup 
posed  to  be  well  stocked  with  money.  Dolores  represented  the 
frightful  loneliness  of  the  place;  nothing  but  bats  and  owls 
flitting  about ;  then  there  were  a  fox  and  a  wild  cat  that  kept 
about  the  vaults  and  roamed  about  at  night. 

I  was  not  to  be  diverted  from  my  humour,  so  calling  in 
the  assistance  of  a  carpenter,  and  the  ever  officious  Mateo 
Ximenes,  the  doors  and  windows  were  soon  placed  in  a  state 
of  tolerable  security. 

With  all  these  precautions,  I  must  confess  the  first  night  I 
passed  in  these  quarters  was  inexpressibly  dreary.  I  was 
escorted  by  the  whole  family  to  my  chamber,  and  there  taking 
leave  of  me,  and  retiring  along  the  waste  antechamber  and 
echoing  galleries,  reminded  me  of  those  hobgoblin  stories, 
where  the  hero  is  left  to  accomplish  the  adventure  of  a 
haunted  house. 


44  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

Soon  the  thoughts  of  the  fair  Elizabetta  and  the  beauties  of 
her  court,  who  had  once  graced-these  chambers,  now  by  a  per 
version  of  fancy  added  to  the  gloom.  Here  was  the  scene  of 
their  transient  gaiety  and  loveliness ;  here  were  the  very  traces 
of  their  elegance  and  enjoyment ;  but  what  and  where  were 
they?— Dust  and  ashes!  tenants  of  the  tomb!  phantoms  of  the 
memory ! 

A  vague  and  indescribable  awe  was  creeping  over  me.  1 
would  fain  have  ascribed  it  to  the  thoughts  of  robbers,  awakened 
by  the  evening's  conversation,  but  I  felt  that  it  was  something 
more  unusual  and  absurd.  In  a  word,  the  long  buried  impres 
sions  of  the  nursery  were  reviving  and  asserting  their  power 
over  my  imagination.  Every  thing  began  to  be  affected  by 
the  workings  of  my  mind.  The  whispering  of  the  wind  among 
the  citron  trees  beneath  my  window  had  something  sinister.  I 
cast  my  eyes  into  the  garden  of  Lindaraxa ;  the  groves  present 
ed  a  gulf  of  shadows ;  the  thickets  had  indistinct  and  ghastly 
shapes.  I  was  glad  to  close  the  window ;  but  my  chamber  it 
self  became  infected.  A  bat  had  found  its  way  in,  and  flitted 
about  my  head  and  athwart  my  solitary  lamp ;  the  grotesque 
faces  carved  in  the  cedar  ceiling  seemed  to  mope  and  mow  at 
me. 

Eousing  myself,  and  half  smiling  at  this  temporary  weak 
ness,  I  resolved  to  brave  it,  and,  taking  lamp  in  hand,  sallied 
forth  to  make  a  tour  of  the  ancient  palace.  Notwithstanding 
every  mental  exertion,  the  task  was  a  severe  one.  The  rays 
of  my  lamp  extended  to  but  a  limited  distance  around  me ;  I 
walked  as  it  were  in  a  mere  halo  of  light,  and  all  beyond 
was  thick  darkness.  The  vaulted  corridors  were  as  caverns; 
the  vaults  of  the  halls  were  lost  in  gloom;  what  unseen  foe 
might  not  be  lurking  before  or  behind  me;  my  own  shadow 
playing  about  the  walls,  and  the  echoes  of  my  own  footsteps 
disturbed  me. 

In  this  excited  state,  as  I  was  traversing  the  great  Hall  of 
Ambassadors,  there  were  added  real  sounds  to  these  conjectural 
fancies.  Low  moans  and  indistinct  ejaculations  seemed  to  rise 
as  it  were  from  beneath  my  feet ;  I  paused  and  listened.  They 
then  appeared  to  resound  from  without  the  tower.  Sometimes 
they  resembled  the  howlings  of  an  animal,  at  others  they  were 
stifled  shrieks,  mingled  with  articulate  ravings.  The  thrilling 
effect  of  these  sounds  in  that  still  hour  and  singular  place,  de 
stroyed  all  inclination  to  continue  my  lonely  perambulation. 
I  returned  to  my  chamber  with  more  alacrity  than  I  had  sallied 


THE  ALHAMBRA  BY  MOONLIGHT.  45 

forth,  and  drew  my  breath  more  freely  when  once  more  within 
its  walls,  and  the  door  bolted  behind  me. 

When  I  awoke  in  the  morning,  with  the  sun  shining  in  at  my 
window,  and  lighting  up  every  part  of  the  building  with  its 
cheerful  and  truth-telling  beams,  I  could  scarcely  recall  the 
shadows  and  fancies  conjured  up  by  the  gloom  of  the  preceding 
night ;  or  believe  that  the  scenes  around  me,  so  naked  and  ap 
parent,  could  have  been  clothed  with  such  imaginary  horrors. 

Still  the  dismal  bowlings  and  ejaculations  I  had  heard  were 
not  ideal ;  but  they  were  soon  accounted  for,  by  my  handmaid 
Dolores ;  being  the  ravings  of  a  poor  maniac,  a  brother  of  her 
aunt,  who  was  subject  to  violent  paroxysms,  during  which  he 
was  confined  in  a  vaulted  room  beneath  the  Hall  of  Ambas 
sadors. 


THE  ALHAMBEA  BY  MOONLIGHT. 

I  HAVE  given  a  picture  of  my  apartment  on  my  first  taking 
possession  of  it;  a  few  evenings  have  produced  a  thorough 
change  in  the  scene  and  in  my  feelings.  The  moon,  which  then 
was  invisible,  has  gradually  gained  upon  the  nights,  and  now 
rolls  in  full  splendour  above  the  towers,  pouring  a  flood  of 
tempered  light  into  every  court  and  hall.  The  garden  beneath 
my  window  is  gently  lighted  up ;  the  orange  and  citron  trees 
are  tipped  with  silver;  the  fountain  sparkles  in  the  moon 
beams,  and  even  the  blush  of  the  rose  is  faintly  visible. 

I  have  sat  for  hours  at  my  window  inhaling  the  sweetness  of 
the  garden,  and  musing  on  the  chequered  features  of  those 
whose  history  is  dimly  shadowed  out  in  the  elegant  memorials 
around.  Sometimes  I  have  issued  forth  at  midnight  when  every 
thing  was  quiet,  and  have  wandered  over  the  whole  building. 
Who  can  do  justice  to  a  moonlight  night  in  such  a  climate, 
and  in  such  a  place !  The  temperature  of  an  Andalusian  mid 
night,  in  summer,  is  perfectly  ethereal.  We  seem  lifted  up 
into  a  purer  atmosphere ;  there  is  a  serenity  of  soul,  a  buoyancy 
of  spirits,  an  elasticity  of  frame  that  render  mere  existence 
enjoyment.  The  effect  of  moonlight,  too,  on  the  Alhambra  has 
something  like  enchantment.  Every  rent  and  chasm  of  time, 
every  mouldering  tint  and  weather  stain  disappears ;  the  mar 
ble  -resumes  its  original  whiteness ;  the  long  colonnades  brighten 
in  the  moon  beams ;  the  halls  are  illuminated  with  a  softened 


46  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

radiance,  until  the  whole  edifice  reminds  one  of  the  enchanted 
palace  of  an  Arabian  tale. 

At  such  time  I  have  ascended  to  the  little  pavilion,  called  the 
Queen's  Toilette,  to  enjoy  its  varied  and  extensive  prospect 
To  the  right,  the  snowy  summits  of  the  Sierra  Nevada  would 
gleam  like  silver  clouds  against  the  darker  firmament,  and  all 
the  outlines  of  the  mountain  would  be  softened,  yet  delicately 
defined.  My  delight,  however,  would  be  to  lean  over  the  para 
pet  of  the  tocador,  and  gaze  down  upon  Granada,  spread  out 
like  a  map  below  me:  all  buried  in  deep  repose,  and  its  white 
palaces  and  convents  sleeping  as  it  were  in  the  moonshine. 

Sometimes  I  would  hear  the  faint  sounds  of  castanets  from 
some  party  of  dancers  lingering  in  the  Alameda;  at  other  times 
I  have  heard  the  dubious  tones  of  a  guitar,  and  the  notes  of  a 
single  voice  rising  from  some  solitary  street,  and  have  pictured 
to  myself  some  youthful  cavalier  serenading  his  lady's  window  • 
a  gallant  custom  of  former  days,  but  now  sadly  on  the  decline 
except  in  the  remote  towns  and  villages  of  Spain. 

Such  are  the  scenes  that  have  detained  me  for  many  an  hour 
loitering  about  the  courts  and  balconies  of  the  castle,  enjoying 
that  mixture  of  reverie  and  sensation  which  steal  away  exist 
ence  in  a  southern  climate— and  it  has  been  almost  morning  be 
fore  I  have  retired  to  my  bed,  and  been  lulled  to  sleep  by  the 
falling  waters  of  the  fountain  of  Lindaraxa. 


INHABITANTS  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

I  HAVE  often  observed  that  the  more  proudly  a  mansion  has 
been  tenanted  in  the  day  of  its  prosperity,  the  humbler  are  its 
inhabitants  in  the  day  of  its  decline,  and  that  the  palace  of  the 
king  commonly  ends  in  being  the  nestling  place  of  the  beggar. 

The  Alhambra  is  in  a  rapid  state  of  similar  transition: 
whenever  a  tower  falls  to  decay,  it  is  seized  upon  by  some 
tatterdemalion  family,  who  become  joint  tenants  with  the 
bats  and  owls  of  its  gilded  halls,  and  hang  their  rags,  those 
standards  of  poverty,  out  of  its  windows  and  loop-holes. 

I  have  amused  myself  with  remarking  some  of  the  motley 
characters  that  have  thus  usurped  the  ancient  abode  of 
royalty,  and  who  seem  as  if  placed  here  to  give  a  farcical 
termination  to  the  drama  of  human  pride.  One  of  these 


INHABITANTS  OF  THE  ALHAMBEA.  47 

even  bears  the  mockery  of  a  royal  title.  It  is  a  little  old 
woman  named  Maria  Antonia  Sabonea,  but  who  goes  by 
the  appellation  of  la  Reyna  Cuquina,  or  the  cockle  queen. 
She  is  small  enough  to  be  a  fairy,  and  a  fairy  she  may  be 
for  aught  I  can  find  out, 'for  no  one  seems  to  know  her 
origin.  Her  habitation  is  a  kind  of  closet  under  the  outer 
staircase  of  the  palace,  and  she  sits  in  the  cool  stone  corri 
dor  plying  her  needle  and  singing  from  morning  till  night, 
with  a  ready  joke  for  every  one  that  passes,  for  though 
one  of  the  poorest,  she  is  one  of  the  merriest  little  women 
breathing.  Her  great  merit  is  a  gift  for  story-telling ;  having, 
I  verily  believe,  as  many  stories  at  her  command  as  the  inex 
haustible  Scheherezade  of  the  thousand  and  one  nights.  Some 
of  these  I  have  heard  her  relate  in  the  evening  tertulias  of 
Dona  Antonia,  at  which  she  is  occasionally  an  humble  attend 
ant. 

That  there  must  be  some  fairy  gift  about  this  mysterious 
little  old  woman,  would  appear  from  her  extraordinary  luck, 
since,  notwithstanding  her  being  very  little,  very  ugly,  and 
very  poor,  she  has  had,  according  to  her  own  account,  five 
husbands  and  a  half;  reckoning  as  a  half,  one,  a  young 
dragoon  who  died  during  courtship. 

A  rival  personage  to  this  little  fairy  queen  is  a  portly  old 
fellow  with  a  bottle  nose,  who  goes  about  in  a  rusty  garb, 
with  a  cocked  hat  of  oil  skin  and  a  red  cockade.  He  is  one  of 
the  legitimate  sons  of  the  Alhambra,  and  has  lived  here  all 
his  life,  filling  various  offices ;  such  as  Deputy  Alguazil,  sexton 
of  the  parochial  church,  and  marker  of  a  fives  court  estab 
lished  at  the  foot  of  one  of  the  towers.  He  is  as  poor  as  a  rat, 
but  as  proud  as  he  is  ragged,  boasting  of  his  descent  from  the 
illustrious  house  of  Aguilar,  from  which  sprang  Gonsalvo  of 
Cordova,  the  Grand  Captain.  Nay,  he  actually  bears  the  name 
of  Alonzo  de  Aguilar,  so  renowned  in  the  history  of  the  con 
quest,  though  the  graceless  wags  of  the  fortress  have  given 
him  the  title  of  el  Padre  Santo,  or  the  Holy  Father,  the  usual 
£fppellation  of  the  pope,  which  I  had  thought  too  sacred  in  the 
eyes  of  true  catholics  to  be  thus  ludicrously  applied.  It  is  a 
whimsical  caprice  of  fortune,  to  present  in  the  grotesque 
person  of  this  tatterdemalion  a  namesake  and  descendant 
of  the  proud  Alonzo  de  Aguilar,  the  mirror  of  Andalusian 
chivalry,  leading  an  almost  mendicant  existence  about  this 
once  haughty  fortress,  which  his  ancestor  aided  to  reduce; 
yet  such  might  have  been  the  lot  of  the  descendants  of  Aga- 


48  THE  ALIIAMBRA. 

memnon  and  Achilles,  had  they  lingered  about  the  ruins  of 
Troy. 

Of  this  motley  community  I  find  the  family  of  my  gossiping 
squire  Mateo  Ximenes  to  form,  from  their  numbers  at  least,  a 
very  important  part.  His  boast  of  being  a  son  of  the  Alhambra 
is  not  unfounded.  This  family  has  inhabited  the  fortress  ever 
since  the  time  of  the  conquest,  handing  down  a  hereditary 
poverty  from  father  to  son,  not  one  of  them  having  ever  been 
known  to  be  worth  a  marevedi.  His  father,  by  trade  a  riband 
weaver,  and  who  succeeded  the  historical  tailor  as  the  head  of 
the  family,  is  now  near  seventy  years  of  age,  and  lives  in  a 
hovel  of  reeds  and  plaster,  built  by  his  own  hands,  just  above 
the  iron  gate.  The  furniture  consists  of  a  crazy  bed,  a  table, 
and  two  or  three  chairs;  a  wooden  chest,  containing  his 
clothes,  and  the  archives  of  his  family;  that  is  to  say,  a 
few  papers  concerning  old  law-suits  which  he  cannot  read; 
but  the  pride  of  his  heart  is  a  blazon  of  the  arms  of  the  family, 
brilliantly  coloured  and  suspended  in  a  frame  against  the  wall, 
clearly  demonstrating  by  its  quarterings  the  various  noble 
houses  with  which  this  poverty-stricken  brood  claim  affinity. 

As  to  Mateo  himself,  he  has  done  his  utmost  to  perpetuate 
his  line ;  having  a  wife,  and  a  numerous  progeny  who  inhabit 
an  almost  dismantled  hovel  in  the  hamlet.  How  they  manage 
to  subsist,  He  only  who  sees  into  all  mysteries  can  tell — the 
subsistence  of  a  Spanish  family  of  the  kind  is  always  a  riddle 
to  me ;  yet  they  do  subsist,  and,  what  is  more,  appear  to  enjoy 
their  existence.  The  wife  takes  her  holyday  stroll  in  the  Paseo 
of  Granada,  with  a  child  in  her  arms,  and  half  a  dozen  at  her 
heels,  and  'the  eldest  daughter,  now  verging  into  womanhood, 
dresses  her  hair  with  flowers,  and  dances  gaily  to  the  cas 
tanets. 

There  are  two  classes  of  people  to  whom  life  seems  one  long 
holyday,  the  very  rich  and  the  very  poor;  one  because  they 
need  do  nothing,  the  other  because  they  have  nothing  to  do ; 
but  there  are  none  who  understand  the  art  of  doing  nothing 
and  living  upon  nothing  better  than  the  poor  classes  of  Spain. 
Climate  does  one  half  and  temperament  the  rest.  Give  a 
Spaniard  the  shade  in  summer,  and  the  sun  in  winter,  a  little 
bread,  garlic,  oil  and  garbanzos,  an  old  brown  cloak  and  a 
guitar,  and  let  the  world  roll  on  as  it  pleases.  Talk  of  poverty, 
with  him  it  has  no  disgrace.  It  sits  upon  him  with  a  gran- 
dioso  style,  like  his  ragged  cloak.  He  is  a  hidalgo  even  when 
in  rags. 


THE  BALCONY.  49 

The  "Sons  of  the  Alhambra"  are  an  eminent  illustration  o{ 
this  practical  philosophy.  As  the  Moors  imagined  that  the 
celestial  paradise  hung  over  this  favoured  spot,  so  I  am  in 
clined,  at  times,  to  fancy  that  a  gleam  of  the  golden  age  still 
lingers  about  this  ragged  community.  They  possess  nothing, 
they  do  nothing,  they  care  for  nothing.  Yet,  though  ap 
parently  idle  all  the  week,  they  are  as  observant  of  all  holy 
days  and  saints'  days  as  the  most  laborious  artisan.  They 
attend  all  fetes  and  dancings  in  Granada  and  its  vicinity, 
light  bon-fires  on  the  hills  on  St.  John's  eve,  and  have  lately 
danced  away  the  moonlight  nights,  on  the  harvest  home  of 
a  small  field  of  wheat  within  the  precincts  of  the  fortress. 

Before  concluding  these  remarks  I  must  mention  one  of  the 
amusements  of  the  place  which  has  particularly  struck  me.  I 
had  repeatedly  observed  a  long,  lean  fellow  perched  on  the  top 
of  one  of  the  towers  manoeuvring  two  or  three  fishing  rods,  as 
though  he  was  angling  for  the  stars.  I  was  for  some  time  per 
plexed  by  the  evolutions  of  this  aerial  fisherman,  and  my  per 
plexity  increased  on  observing  others  employed  in  like  manner, 
on  different  parts  of  the  battlements  and  bastions ;  it  was  not 
until  I  consulted  Mateo  Ximenes  that  I  solved  the  mystery. 

It  seems  that  the  pure  and  airy  situation  of  this  fortress  has 
rendered  it,  like  the  castle  of  Macbeth,  a  prolific  breeding-place 
for  swallows  and  martlets,  who  sport  about  its  towers  in 
myriads,  with  the  holyday  glee  of  urchins  just  let  loose 
from  school.  To  entrap  these  birds  in  their  giddy  circlings, 
with  hooks  baited  with  flies,  is  one  of  the  favourite  amuse 
ments  of  the  ragged  "Sons  of  the  Alhambra, "  who,  with  the 
good-for-nothing  ingenuity  of  arrant  idlers,  have  thus  invented 
the  art  of  angling  in  the  sky. 


THE  BALCONY 

IN  the  Hall  of  Ambassadors,  at  the  central  window,  there  is 
a  balcony  of  which  I  have  already  made  mention.  It  projects 
like  a  cage  from  the  face  of  the  tower,  high  in  mid-air,  above 
the  tops  of  the  trees  that  grow  on  the  steep  hill-side.  It  an 
swers  me  as  a  kind  of  observatory,  where  I  often  take  my  seat 
to  consider,  not  merely  the  heavens  above,  but  the  "earth 
beneath."  Beside  the  magnificent  prospect  which  it  commands, 
of  mountain,  valley,  and  Vega,  there  is  a  busy  little  scene  of 


50  THE  ALI1AMBRA. 

human  life  laid  open  to  inspection  immediately  below.  At  the 
foot  of  the  hill  is  an  alameda  or  public  walk,  which,  though  not 
so  fashionable  as  the  more  modern  and  splendid  paseo  of  the 
Xenil,  still  boasts  a  varied  and  picturesque  concourse,  especially 
on  holydays  and  Sundays.  Hither  resort  the  small  gentry  of 
the  suburbs,  together  with  priests  and  friars  \vho  walk  for  appe 
tite  and  digestion ;  majos  and  majas,  the  beaux  and  belles  of  the 
lower  classes  in  their  Andalusian  dresses;  swagging  contraban- 
distas,  and  sometimes  half -muffled  and  mysterious  loungers  of 
the  higher  ranks,  on  some  silent  assignation. 

It  is  a  moving  picture  of  Spanish  life  which  I  delight  to 
study ;  and  as  the  naturalist  has  his  microscope  to  assist  him 
in  his  curious  investigations,  so  I  have  a  small  pocket  telescope 
which  brings  the  countenances  of  the  motley  groups  so  close  as 
almost  at  times  to  make  me  think  I  can  divine  their  conversa 
tion  by  the  play  and  expression  of  their  features.  I  am  thus, 
in  a  manner,  an  invisible  observer,  and  without  quitting  my 
solitude,  can  throw  myself  in  an  instant  into  the  midst  of 
society-  a  rare  advantage  to  one  of  somewhat  shy  and  quiet 
habits. 

Then  there  is  a  considerable  suburb  lying  below  the  Alham- 
bra,  filling  the  narrow  gorge  of  the  valley,  and  extending  up 
the  opposite  hill  of  the  Albaycin.  Many  of  the  houses  are 
built  in  the  Moorish  style,  round  patios  or  courts  cooled  by 
fountains  and  open  to  the  sky;  and  as  the  inhabitants  pass 
much  of  their  time  in  these  courts  and  on  the  terraced  roofs 
during  the  summer  season,  it  follows  that  many  a  glance  at 
their  domestic  life  may  be  obtained  by  an  aerial  spectator  like 
myself,  who  can  look  down  on  them  from  the  clouds. 

I  enjoy,  in  some  degree,  the  advantages  of  the  student  in  the 
famous  old  Spanish  story,  who  beheld  all  Madrid  unroofed  for 
his  inspection ;  and  my  gossipping  squire  Mateo  Ximenes  offi 
ciates  occasionally  as  my  Asmodeus,  to  give  me  anecdotes  of 
the  different  mansions  and  their  inhabitants. 

I  prefer,  however,  to  form  conjectural  histories  for  myself; 
and  thus  can  sit  up  aloft  for  hours,  weaving  from  casual  inci 
dents  and  indications  that  pass  under  my  eye,  the  whole  tissue 
of  schemes,  intrigues  and  occupations,  carrying  on  by  certain 
of  the  busy  mortals  below  us.  There  is  scarce  a  pretty  face  or 
striking  figure  that  I  daily  see,  about  which  I  have  not  thus 
gradually  framed  a  dramatic  story;  though  some  of  my 
characters  will  occassionally  act  in  direct  opposition  to  the 
part  assigned  them,  and  disconcert  my  whole  drama, 


THE  BALCONY.  51 

A  few  days  since  as  I  was  reconnoitring  with  my  glass  the 
streets  of  the  Albaycin,  I  beheld  the  procession  of  a  novice 
about  to  take  the  veil ;  and  remarked  various  circumstances 
that  excited  the  strongest  sympathy  in  the  fate  of  the  youth 
ful  being  thus  about  to  be  consigned  to  a  living  tomb.  I  ascer 
tained,  to  my  satisfaction,  that  she  was  beautiful ;  and,  by  the 
paleness  of  her  cheek,  that  she  was  a  victim,  rather  than  a 
votary.  She  was  arrayed  in  bridal  garments,  and  decked 
with  a  chaplet  of  white  flowers ;  but  her  heart  evidently  re 
volted  at  this  mockery  of  a  spiritual  union,  and  yearned  after 
its  earthly  loves.  A  tall  stern-looking  man  walked  near  her 
in  the  procession ;  it  was  evidently  the  tyrannical  father,  who, 
from  some  bigoted  or  sordid  motive,  had  compelled  this  sacrifice. 
Amidst  the  crowd  was  a  dark,  handsome  youth,  in  Andalusiaii 
garb,  who  seemed  to  fix  on  her  an  eye  of  agony.  It  was  doubt 
less  the  secret  lover  from  whom  she  was  for  ever  to  be  sepa 
rated.  My  indignation  rose  as  I  noted  the  malignant  exulta 
tion  painted  in  the  countenances  of  the  attendant  monks  and 
friars.  The  procession  arrived  at  the  chapel  of  the  convent ;  the 
sun  gleamed  for  the  last  time  upon  the  chaplet  of  the  poor  novice 
as  she  crossed  the  fatal  threshold  and  disappeared  from  sight. 
The  throng  poured  in  with  cowl  and  cross  and  minstrelsy.  The 
lover  paused  for  a  moment  at  the  door;  I  could  understand 
the  tumult  of  his  feelings,  but  he  mastered  them  and  entered. 
There  was  a  long  interval — I  pictured  to  myself  the  scene  pass 
ing  within.— The  poor  novice  despoiled  of  her  transient  finery 
— clothed  in  the  conventual  garb;  the  bridal  chaplet  taken 
from  her  brow;  her  beautiful  head  shorn  of  its  long  silken 
tresses — I  heard  her  murmur  the  irrevocable  vow — I  saw  her 
extended  on  her  bier ;  the  death  pall  spread  over ;  the  funeral 
service  performed  that  proclaimed  her  dead  to  the  world ;  her 
sighs  were  drowned  in  the  wailing  anthem  of  the  nuns  and  the 
sepulchral  tones  of  the  organ— the  father  looked,  unmoved, 
without  a  tear— the  lover— no— my  fancy  refused  to  portray 
the  anguish  of  the  lover— there  the  picture  remained  a  blank. 
— The  ceremony  was  over :  the  crowd  again  issued  forth  to  be 
hold  the  day  and  mingle  in  the  joyous  stir  of  life— but  the 
victim  with  her  bridal  chaplet  was  no  longer  there — the  door  of 
the  convent  closed  that  secured  her  from  the  world  for  ever. 
I  saw  the  father  and  the  lover  issue  forth— they  were  in  ear 
nest  conversation — the  young  man  was  violent  in  his  gestures, 
when  the  wall  of  a  house  intervened  and  shut  them  from  nrf 
eight. 


52  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

That  evening  I  noticed  a  solitary  light  twinkling  from  a  re 
mote  lattice  of  the  convent.  There,  said  I,  the  unhappy  novice 
sits  weeping  in  her  cell,  while  her  lover  paces  the  street  below 
in  unavailing  anguish. 

—The  officious  Mateo  interrupted  my  meditations  and  de 
stroyed,  in  an  instant,  the  cobweb  tissue  of  my  fancy.  With 
his  usual  zeal  he  had  gathered  facts  concerning  the  scene  that 
had  interested  me.  The  heroine  of  my  romance  was  neither 
young  nor  handsome— she  had  no  lover— she  had  entered  the 
convent  of  her  own  free  will,  as  a  respectable  asylum,  and  was 
one  of  the  cheerf ulest  residents  within  its  walls ! 

I  felt  at  first  half  vexed  with  the  nun  for  being  thus  happy 
in  her  cell,  in  contradiction  to  all  the  rules  of  romance ;  but 
diverted  my  spleen  by  watching,  for  a  day  or  two,  the  pretty 
coquetries  of  a  dark-eyed  brunette,  who,  from  the  covert  of  a 
balcony  shrouded  with  flowering  shrubs  and  a  silken  awning, 
was  carrying  on  a  mysterious  correspondence  with  a  hand 
some,  dark,  well- whiskered  cavalier  in  the  street  beneath  her 
window.  Sometimes  I  saw  him  at  an  early  hour,  stealing 
forth,  wrapped  to  the  eyes  in  a  mantle.  Sometimes  he  loitered 
at  the  corner,  in  various  disguises,  apparently  waiting  for  a 
private  signal  to  slip  into  the  bower.  Then  there  was  a  tink 
ling  of  a  guitar  at  night,  and  a  lantern  shifted  from  place  to 
place  in  the  balcony.  I  imagined  another  romantic  intrigue  like 
that  of  Almaviva,  but  was  again  disconcerted  in  all  my  suppo 
sitions  by  being  informed  that  the  supposed  lover  was  the 
husband  of  the  lady,  and  a  noted  contrabandista,  and  that  all 
his  mysterious  signs  and  movements  had  doubtless  some  smug 
gling  scheme  in  view. 

Scarce  had  the  gray  dawn  streaked  the  sky  and  the  earliest 
cock  crowed  from  the  cottages  of  the  hill-side,  when  the 
suburbs  gave  sign  of  reviving  animation ;  for  the  fresh  hours 
of  dawning  are  precious  in  the  summer  season  in  a  sultry 
climate.  All  are  anxious  to  get  the  start  of  the  sun  in  the 
business  of  the  day.  The  muleteer  drives  forth  his  loaded 
train  for  the  journey ;  the  traveller  slings  his  carbine  behind 
his  saddle  and  mounts  his  steed  at  the  gate  of  the  hostel.  The 
brown  peasant  urges  his  loitering  donkeys,  laden  with  pan 
niers  of  sunny  fruit  and  fresh  dewy  vegetables ;  for  already 
the  thrifty  housewives  are  hastening  to  the  market. 

The  sun  is  up  and  sparkles  along  the  valley,  topping  the 
transparent  foliage  of  the  groves.  The  matin  bells  resound 
melodiously  through  the  pure  bright  air,  announcing  the  hour 


THE  BALCONY.  53 

of  devotion.  The  muleteer  halts  his  burdened  animals  before 
the  chapel,  thrusts  his  staff  through  his  belt  behind,  and 
enters  with  hat  in  hand,  smoothing  his  coal  black  hair,  to 
hear  a  mass  and  put  up  a  prayer  for  a  prosperous  wayfaring 
across  the  Sierra. 

And  now  steals  forth  with  fairy  foot  the  gentle  Seaora,  in 
trim  busquina ;  with  restless  fan  in  hand  and  dark  eye  flash 
ing  from  beneath  her  gracefully  folded  mantilla.  She  seeks 
some  well  frequented  church  to  offer  up  her  orisons ;  but  the 
nicely  adjusted  dress ;  the  dainty  shoe  and  cobweb  stocking ; 
the  raven  tresses  scrupulously  braided,  the  fresh  plucked  rose 
that  gleams  among  them  like  a  gem,  show  that  earth  divides 
with  heaven  the  empire  of  her  thoughts. 

As  the  morning  advances,  the  din  of  labour  augments  on 
every  side ;  the  streets  are  thronged  with  man  and  steed,  and 
beast  of  burden ;  the  universal  movement  produces  a  hum  and 
murmur  like  the  surges  of  the  ocean.  As  the  sun  ascends  to 
his  meridian  the  hum  and  bustle  gradually  decline;  at  the 
height  of  noon  there  is  a  pause ;  the  panting  city  sinks  into 
lassitude,  and  for  several  hours  there  is  a  general  repose. 
The  windows  are  closed ;  the  curtains  drawn ;  the  inhabitants 
retired  into  the  coolest  recesses  of  their  mansions.  The  full- 
fed  monk  snores  in  his  dormitory.  The  brawny  porter  lies 
stretched  on  the  pavement  beside  his  burden.  The  peasant 
and  the  labourer  sleep  beneath  the  trees  of  the  Alameda, 
lulled  by  the  sultry  chirping  of  the  locust.  The  streets  are 
deserted  except  by  the  water  carrier,  who  refreshes  the  ear  by 
proclaiming  the  merits  of  his  sparkling  beverage, — "Colder 
than  mountain  snow." 

As  the  sun  declines,  there  is  again  a  gradual  reviving,  and 
wnen  the  vesper  bell  rings  out  his  sinking  knell,  all  nature 
seeiiis  to  rejoice  that  the  tyrant  of  the  day  has  fallen. 

Now  begins  the  bustle  of  enjoyment.  The  citizens  pour 
forth  to  breathe  the  evening  air,  and  revel  away  the  brief 
twilight  in  the  walks  and  gardens  of  the  Darro  and  the  Xenil. 

As  the  night  closes,  the  motley  scene  assumes  new  features. 
Light  after  light  gradually  twinkles  forth ;  here  a  taper  from 
a  balconied  window ;  there  a  votive  lamp  before  the  image  of 
a  saint.  Thus  by  degrees  the  city  emerges  from  the  pervading 
gloom,  and  sparkles  with  scattered  lights  like  the  starry 
firmament.  Now  break  forth  from  court,  and  garden,  and 
street,  and  lane,  the  tinkling  of  innumerable  guitars  and  the 
clicking  of  castanets,  blending  at  this  lofty  height,  in  a  faint 


54  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

and  general  concert.  "Enjoy  the  moment,"  is  the  creed  of 
the  gay  and  amorous  Andalusian,  and  at  no  time  does  he 
practise  it  more  zealously  than  in  the  balmy  nights  of  sum 
mer,  wooing  his  mistress  with  the  dance,  the  love  ditty  and 
the  passionate  serenade. 

I  was  seated  one  evening  in  the  balcony  enjoying  the  light 
breeze  that  came  rustling  along  the  side  of  the  hill  among  the 
tree-tops,  when  my  humble  historiographer,  Mateo,  who  was 
at  my  elbow,  pointed  out  a  spacious  house  in  an  obscure  street 
of  the  Albaycin,  about  which  he  related,  as  nearly  as  I  can 
recollect,  the  following  anecdote. 


THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  MASON. 

THERE  was  once  upon  a  time  a  poor  mason,  or  bricklayer,  in 
Granada,  who  kept  all  the  saints'  days  and  holydays,  and  saint 
Monday  into  the  bargain,  and  yet,  with  all  his  devotion,  he 
grew  poorer  and  poorer,  and  could  scarcely  earn  bread  for  his 
numerous  family.  One  night  he  was  roused  from  his  first 
sleep  by  a  knocking  at  his  door.  He  opened  it  and  beheld 
before  him  a  tall,  meagre,  cadaverous-looking  priest.  "Hark 
ye,  honest  friend,"  said  the  stranger,  "I  have  observed  that 
you  are  a  good  Christian,  and  one  to  be  trusted;  will  you 
undertake  a  job  this  very  night?" 

"With  all  my  heart,  Seflor  Padre,  on  condition  that  I  am 
paid  accordingly." 

"That  you  shall  be,  but  you  must  suffer  yourself  to  be 
blindfolded." 

To  this  the  mason  made  no  objection ;  so  being  hoodwinked, 
he  was  led  by  the  priest  through  various  rough  lanes  and 
winding  passages  until  they  stopped  before  the  portal  of  a 
house.  The  priest  then  applied  a  key,  turned  a  creaking  lock 
and  opened  what  sounded  like  a  ponderous  door.  They  en 
tered,  the  door  was  closed  and  bolted,  and  the  mason  was 
conducted  through  an  echoing  corridor  and  spacious  hall,  to 
an  interior  part  of  the  building.  Here  the  bandage  was  re 
moved  from  his  eyes,  and  he  found  himself  in  a  patio,  or 
court,  dimly  lighted  by  a  single  lamp. 

In  the  centre  was  a  dry  basin  of  an  old  Moorish  fountain, 
under  which  the  priest  requested  him  to  form  a  small  vault, 
bricks  and  mortar  being  at  hand  for  the  purpose.  Pie  accord- 


THE  ADVENTURE  OF  TEE  MASON,  55 

ingly  worked  all  night,  but  without  finishing  the  job.  Just 
before  daybreak  the  priest  put  a  piece  of  gold  into  his  hand, 
and  having  again  blindfolded  him,  conducted  him  back  to  his 
dwelling. 

"Are  you  willing,"  said  he,  "to  return  and  complete  your 
work?" 

"  Gladly,  Seiior  Padre,  provided  I  am  as  well  paid." 

"Well,  then,  to-morrow  at  midnight  I  will  call  again." 

He  did  so,  and  the  vault  was  completed.  "  Now,"  said  the 
priest,  ' '  you  must  help  me  to  brmg  forth  the  bodies  that  are  to 
be  buried  in  this  vault." 

The  poor  mason's  hair  rose  on  his  head  at  these  words ;  he 
followed  the  priest  with  trembling  steps,  into  a  retired  cham 
ber  of  the  mansion,  expecting  to  behold  some  ghastly  spectacle 
of  death,  but  was  relieved,  on  perceiving  three  or  four  portly 
jars  standing  in  one  corner.  They  were  evidently  full  of 
money,  and  it  was  with  great  labour  that  he  and  the  priest 
carried  them  forth  and  consigned  them  to  their  tomb.  The 
vault  was  then  closed,  the  pavement  replaced  and  all  traces 
of  the  work  obliterated. 

The  mason  was  again  hoodwinked  and  led  forth  by  a  route 
different  from  that  by  which  he  had  come.  After  they  had 
wandered  for  a  long  time  through  a  perplexed  maze  of  lanes 
and  alleys,  they  halted.  The  priest  then  put  two  pieces  of  gold 
into  his  hand.  "Wait  here,"  said  he,  "until  you  hear  the 
cathedral  bell  toll  for  matins.  If  you  presume  to  uncover 
your  eyes  before  that  time,  evil  will  befall  you."  So  saying 
he  departed. 

The  mason  waited  faithfully,  amusing  himself  by  weighing 
the  gold  pieces  in  his  hand  and  clinking  them  against  each 
other.  The  moment  the  cathedral  bell  rung  its  matin  peal,  he 
uncovered  his  eyes  and  found  himself  on  the  banks  of  the 
Xenil ;  from  whence  he  made  the  best  of  his  way  home,  and 
revelled  with  his  family  for  a  whole  fortnight  on  the  profits  of 
his  two  nights'  work,  after  which  he  was  as  poor  as  ever. 

He  continued  to  work  a  little  and  pray  a  good  deal,  and 
keep  holydays  and  saints'  days  from  year  to  year,  while  his 
family  grew  up  as  gaunt  and  ragged  as  a  crew  of  gipsies. 

As  he  was  seated  one  morning  at  the  door  of  his  hovel,  he 
was  accosted  by  a  rich  old  curmudgeon  who  was  noted  for 
owning  many  houses  and  being  a  griping  landlord. 

The  man  of  money  eyed  him  for  a  moment,  from  beneath  a 
pair  of  shagged  eyebrows. 


56  THE  ALII  AMP  II  A. 

"  I  am  told,  friend,  that  you  are  very  poor." 
"  There  is  no  denying  the  fact,  Seiior ;  it  speaks  for  itself." 
"  I  presume,  then,  you  will  be  glad  of  a  job,  and  will  work 
cheap." 

"As  cheap,  my  master,  as  any  mason  in  Granada." 
"  That's  what  I  want.     I  have  an  old  house  faUen  to  decay, 
that  costs  me  more  money  than  it  is  worth  to  keep  it  in  repair' 
for  nobody  will  live  in  it;  so  I  must  contrive  to  patch  it  up 
and  keep  it  together  at  as  small  expense  as  possible. " 

The  mason  was  accordingly  conducted  to  a  huge  deserted 
house  that  seemed  going  to  ruin.  Passing  through  several 
empty  halls  and  chambers,  he  entered  an  inner  court,  where 
his  eye  was  caught  by  an  old  Moorish  fountain. 

He  paused  for  a  moment.  "  It  seems,"  said  he,  "  as  if  I  had 
been  in  this  place  before;  but  it  is  like  a  dream.— Pray  who 
occupied  this  house  formerly?" 

"A  pest  upon  him!"  cried  the  landlord.  "It  was  an  old 
miserly  priest,  who  cared  for  nobody  but  himself.  He  was 
said  to  be  immensely  rich,  and,  having  no  relations,  it  was 
thought  he  would  leave  all  his  treasure  to  the  church.  He 
died  suddenly,  and  the  priests  and  friars  thronged  to  take 
possession  of  his  wealth,  but  nothing  could  they  find  but  a  few 
ducats  in  a  leathern  purse.  The  worst  luck  has  fallen  on 
me ;  for  since  his  death,  the  old  fellow  continues  to  occupy  my 
house  without  paying  rent,  and  there's  no  taking  the  law  of  a 
dead  man.  The  people  pretend  to  hear  at  night  the  clinking 
of  gold  all  night  long  in  the  chamber  where  the  old  priest  slept, 
as  if  he  were  counting  over  his  money,  and  sometimes  a  grocin- 
ing  and  moaning  about  the  court.  Whether  true  or  false 
these  stories  have  brought  a  bad  name  on  my  house,  and  not  a 
tenant  will  remain  in  it. " 

"Enough,"  said  the  mason  sturdily--"  Let  me  live  in  your 
house  rent  free  until  some  better  tenant  presents,  and  I  will 
engage  to  put  it  in  repair  and  quiet  the  troubled  spirits  that 
disturb  it.  I  am  a  good  Christian  and  a  poor  man,  and  am  not 
to  be  daunted  by  the  devil  himself,  even  though  he  come  in  the 
shape  of  a  big  bag  of  money." 

The  offer  of  the  honest  mason  was  priadly  accepted;  he 
moved  with  his  family  into  the  house,  and  fulfilled  all  his  en 
gagements.  By  little  and  little  he  restored  it  to  its  former 
state.  The  clinking  of  gold  was  no  longer  heard  at  night  in 
the  chamber  of  the  defunct  p/iest,  but  began  to  be  heard  by 
day  in  the  pocket  of  the  living  mason.  In  a  word,  he  irr 


A  RAMBLE  AMONG   THE  HILLS.  57 

creased  rapidly  in  wealth,  to  the  admiration  of  all  his  neigh 
bours,  and  became  one  of  the  richest  men  in  Granada.  He 
gave  large  sums  to  the  church,  by  way,  no  doubt,  of  satisfying 
his  conscience,  and  never  revealed  the  secret  of  his  wealth 
until  on  his  deathbed,  to  his  son  and  heir. 


A  RAMBLE  AMONG  THE  HILLS. 

I  FREQUENTLY  amuse  myself  towards  the  close  of  the  day, 
when  the  heat  has  subsided,  with  taking  long  rambles  about 
the  neighbouring  hills  and  the  deep  umbrageous  valleys, 
accompanied  by  my  historiographer  Squire  Mateo,  to  whose 
passion  for  gossiping,  I,  on  such  occasions,  give  the  most  un- 
bounding  license ;  and  there  is  scarce  a  rock  or  ruin,  or  broken 
fountain,  or  lonely  glen,  about  which  he  has  not  some  mar 
vellous  story ;  or,  above  all,  some  golden  legend ;  for  never  was 
poor  devil  so  munificent  in  dispensing  hidden  treasures. 

A  few  evenings  since  we  took  a  long  stroll  of  the  kind,  in 
which  Mateo  was  more  than  usually  communicative.  It  was 
towards  sunset  that  we  sallied  forth  from  the  great  Gate  of 
Justice,  and  ascending  an  alley  of  trees,  Mateo  paused  under  a 
clump  of  fig  and  pomegranate  trees  at  the  foot  of  a  huge  ruined 
tower,  called  the  Tower  of  the  Seven  Vaults,  (de  los  siete 
suelos.)  Here,  pointing  to  a  low  archway  at  the  foundation  of 
the  tower,  he  informed  me,  in  an  under  tone,  was  the  lurking- 
place  of  a  monstrous  sprite  or  hobgoblin  called  the  Belludo, 
which  had  infested  the  tower  ever  since  the  time  of  the  Moors ; 
guarding,  it  is  supposed,  the  treasures  of  a  Moorish  king. 
Sometimes  it  issues  forth  in  the  dead  of  the  night,  and  scours 
the  avenues  of  the  Alhambra  and  the  streets  of  Granada  in 
the  shape  of  a  headless  horse,  pursued  by  six  dogs,  with 
terrific  yells  and  bowlings. 

"But  have  you  ever  met  with  it  yourself,  Mateo,  in  any  of 
your  rambles?" 

"No,  senor;  but  my  grandfather,  the  tailor,  knew  several 
persons  who  had  seen  it ;  for  it  went  about  much  more  in  his 
time  than  at  present :  sometimes  in  one  shape,  sometimes  in 
another.  Every  body  in  Granada  has  heard  of  the  Belludo, 
tor  the  old  women  and  nurses  frighten  the  children  with  it 
when  they  cry.  Some  cay  it  iss  the  spirit  of  a  cruel  Moorish 


58  THE  ALHAMhtiA. 

king,  who  killed  his  six  sons,  and  buried  them  in  these  vaults, 
and  that  they  hunt  him  at  nights  in  revenge." 

Mateo  went  on  to  tell  many  particulars  about  this  redoubt 
able  hobgoblin,  which  has,  in  fact,  been  time  out  of  mind  a 
favourite  theme  of  nursery  tale  and  popular  tradition  in  Gra 
nada,  and  is  mentioned  in  some  of  the  antiquated  guide-books. 
When  he  had  finished,  we  passed  on,  skirting  the  fruitful! 
orchards  of  the  Generaliffe ;  among  the  trees  of  which  two  or 
three  nightingales  were  pouring  forth  a  rich  strain  of  melody. 
Behind  these  orchards  we  passed  a  number  of  Moorish  tanks, 
with  a  door  cut  into  the  rocky  bosom  of  the  hill,  but  closed  up. 
These  tanks  Mateo  informed  me  were  favourite  bathing-places 
of  himself  and  his  comrades  in  boyhood,  until  frightened  away 
by  a  story  of  a  hideous  Moor,  who  used  to  issue  forth  from  the 
door  in  the  rock  to  entrap  unwary  bathers. 

Leaving  these  haunted  tanks  behind  us,  we  pursued  our 
ramble  up  a  solitary  mule-path  that  wound  among  the  hills, 
and  soon  found  ourselves  amidst  wild  and  melancholy  moun 
tains,  destitute  of  trees,  and  here  and  there  tinted  with  scanty 
verdure.  Every  thing  within  sight  was  severe  and  sterile,  and 
it  was  scarcely  possible  to  realize  the  idea  that  but  a  short  dis 
tance  behind  us  was  the  Generaliffe,  with  its  blooming  or 
chards  and  terraced  gardens,  and  that  we  were  in  the  vicinity 
of  delicious  Granada,  that  city  of  groves  and  fountains.  But 
such  is  the  nature  of  Spain — wild  and  stern  the  moment  it 
escapes  from  cultivation,  the  desert  and  the  garden  are  ever 
side  by  side. 

The  narrow  defile  up  which  we  were  passing  is  called, 
according  to  Mateo,  el  Barranco  de  la  Tinaja,  or  the  ravine  of 
the  jar. 

"And  why  so,  Mateo?"  inquired  I. 

"  Because,  senor,  a  jar  full  of  Moorish  gold  was  found  here 
hi  old  times."  The  brain  of  poor  Mateo  is  continually  run 
ning  upon  these  golden  legends. 

"But  what  is  the  meaning  of  the  cross  I  see  yonder  upon 
a  heap  of  stones  in  that  narrow  part  of  the  ravine?" 

i '  Oh !  that's  nothing — a  muleteer  was  murdered  there  some 
years  since." 

' '  So  then,  Mateo,  you  have  robbers  and  murderers  even  at 
the  gates  of  the  Alhambra." 

"Not  at  present,  senor— that  was,  formerly,  when  there 
used  to  be  many  loose  fellows  about  the  fortress;  but  they've 
all  been  weeded  out.  Not  but  that  the  gipsies,  who  live  in 


A  RAMBLE  AMONG   THE  HILLS.  59 

caves  in  the  hill-sides  just  out  of  the  fortress,  are,  many  of 
them,  fit  for  any  thing;  but  we  have  had  no  murder  about 
here  for  a  long  time  past.  The  man  who  murdered  the  mule' 
teer  was  hanged  in  the  fortress. " 

Our  path  continued  up  the  barranco,  with  a  bold,  rugged 
height  to  our  left,  called  the  Silla  del  Moro,  or  chair  of  the 
Moor;  from  a  tradition  that  the  unfortunate  Boabdil  fled 
thither  during  a  popular  insurrection,  and  remained  all  day 
seated  on  the  rocky  summit,  looking  mournfully  down  upon 
his  factious  city. 

We  at  length  arrived  on  the  highest  part  of  the  promon 
tory  above  Granada,  called  the  Mountain  of  the  Sun.  The 
evening  was  approaching;  the  setting  sun  just  gilded  the  lof 
tiest  heights.  Here  and  there  a  solitary  shepherd  might  be 
descried  driving  his  flock  down  the  declivities  to  be  folded  for 
the  night,  or  a  muleteer  and  his  lagging  animals  threading 
some  mountain  path,  to  arrive  at  the  city  gates  before  night 
fall. 

Presently  the  deep  tones  of  the  cathedral  bell  came  swell 
ing  up  the  defiles,  proclaiming  the  hour  of  Oracion,  or  prayer. 
The  note  was  responded  to  from  the  belfry  of  every  church, 
and  from  the  sweet  bells  of  the  convents  among  the  moun 
tains.  The  shepherd  paused  on  the  fold  of  the  hill,  the  mule 
teer  in  the  midst  of  the  road;  each  took  off  his  hat,  and 
remained  motionless  for  a  time,  murmuring  his  evening 
prayer.  There  is  always  something  solemn  and  pleasing  in 
this  custom ;  by  which,  at  a  melodious  signal,  every  human 
being  throughout  the  land,  recites,  at  the  same  moment,  a 
tribute  of  thanks  to  God  for  the  mercies  of  the  day.  It 
diffuses  a  transient  sanctity  over  the  land,  and  the  sight  of  the 
sun  sinking  in  all  his  glory,  adds  not  a  little  to  the  solemnity 
of  the  scene.  In  the  present  instance,  the  effect  was  height 
ened  by  the  wild  and  lonely  nature  of  the  place.  We  were  on 
the  naked  and  broken  summit  of  the  haunted  Mountain  of  the 
Sun,  where  ruined  tanks  and  cisterns,  and  the  mouldering 
foundations  of  extensive  buildings,  spoke  of  former  populous- 
ness,  but  where  all  was  now  silent  and  desolate. 

As  we  were  wandering  among  these  traces  of  old  times, 
Mateo  pointed  out  to  me  a  circular  pit,  that  seemed  to  pene 
trate  deep  into  the  bosom  of  the  mountain.  It  was  evidently 
a  deep  well,  dug  by  the  indefatigable  Moors,  to  obtain  their 
favourite  element  in  its  greatest  purity.  Mateo,  however,  had 
a  different  story,  and  much  more  to  his  humour.  This  was, 


60  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

according  to  tradition,  an  entrance  to  the  subterranean  cav 
erns  of  the  mountain,  in  which  Boabdil  and  his  court  lay 
bound  in  magic  spell ;  and  from  whence  they  sallied  forth  at 
night,  at  allotted  times,  to  revisit  their  ancient  abodes. 

The  deepening  twilight,  which  in  this  climate  is  of  such 
short  duration,  admonished  us  to  leave  this  haunted  ground. 
As  we  descended  the  mountain  denies,  there  was  no  longer 
herdsman  or  muleteer  to  be  seen,  nor  any  thing  to  be  heard 
but  our  own  footsteps  and  the  lonely  chirping  of  the  cricket. 
The  shadows  of  the  valleys  grew  deeper  and  deeper,  until  all 
was  dark  around  us.  The  lofty  summit  of  the  Sierra  Nevada 
alone  retained  a  lingering  gleam  of  day-light,  its  snowy  peaks 
glaring  against  the  dark  blue  firmament;  and  seeming  close 
to  us,  from  the  extreme  purity  of  the  atmosphere. 

"How  near  the  Sierra  looks  this  evening!"  said  Mateo,  "it 
seems  as  if  you  could  touch  it  with  your  hand,  and  yet  it 
is  many  long  leagues  off."  While  he  was  speaking  a  star  ap 
peared  over  the  snowy  summit  of  the  mountain,  the  only  one 
yet  visible  in  the  heavens,  and  so  pure,  so  large,  so  bright 
and  beautiful  as  to  call  forth  ejaculations  of  delight  from 
honest  Mateo. 

"  Que  lucero  hermoso ! — que  claro  y  limpio  es ! — no  pueda  ser . 
lucero  mas  brillante !" — 

(What  a  beautiful  star !  how  clear  and  lucid !— no  star  could 
be  more  brilliant !) 

I  have  often  remarked  this  sensibility  of  the  common  people 
of  Spain  to  the  charms  of  natural  objects.  The  lustre  of  a  star 
—the  beauty  or  fragrance  of  a  flower—the  crystal  purity  of  a 
fountain,  will  inspire  them  with  a  kind  of  poetical  delight — 
and  then  what  euphonious  words  their  magnificent  language 
affords,  with  which  to  give  utterance  to  their  transports ! 

"But  what  lights  are  those,  Mateo,  which  I  see  twinkling 
along  the  Sierra  Nevada,  just  below  the  snowy  region,  and 
which  might  be  taken  for  stars,  only  that  they  are  ruddy  and 
against  the  dark  side  of  the  mountain?" 

"Those,  Senor,  are  fires  made  by  the  men  who  gather  snow 
and  ice  for  the  supply  of  Granada.  They  go  up  every  after 
noon  with  mules  and  asses,  and  take  turns,  some  to  rest  and 
warm  themselves  by  the  fires,  while  others  fill  their  panniers 
with  ice.  They  then  set  off  down  the  mountain,  so  as  to  reach 
the  gates  of  Granada  before  sunrise.  That  Sierra  Nevada, 
Sefior,  is  a  lump  of  ice  in  the  middle  of  Andalusia,  to  keep  it 
ail  cool  in  summer." 


A  RAMBLE  AMONG   THE  HILLS.  61 

It  was  now  completely  dark ;  we  were  passing  through  the 
barranco  where  stood  the  cross  of  the  murdered  muleteer, 
when  I  beheld  a  number  of  lights  moving  at  a  distance  and  ap 
parently  advancing  up  the  ravine.  On  nearer  approach  they 
proved  to  be  torches  borne  by  a  train  of  uncouth  figures  ar 
rayed  in  black ;  it  would  have  been  a  procession  dreary  enough 
at  any  time,  but  was  peculiarly  so  in  this  wild  and  solitary 
place. 

Mateo  drew  near,  and  told  me  in  a  low  voice  that  it  was  a 
funeral  train  bearing  a  corpse  to  the  burying  ground  among 
the  hills. 

As  the  procession  passed  by,  the  lugubrious  light  of  the 
torches,  falling  on  the  rugged  features  and  funereal  weeds  of 
the  attendants,  had  the  most  fantastic  effect,  but  was  perfectly 
ghastly  as  it  revealed  the  countenance  of  the  corpse,  which, 
according  to  Spanish  custom,  was  borne  uncovered  on  an  open 
bier.  I  remained  for  some  time  gazing  after  the  dreary  train 
as  it  wound  up  the  dark  defile  of  the  mountain.  It  put  me 
in  mind  of  the  old  story  of  a  procession  of  demons,  bearing  the 
body  of  a  sinner  up  the  crater  of  Stromboli. 

"  Ah,  Senor,"  cried  Mateo,  "I  could  tell  you  a  story  of  a  pro 
cession  once  seen  among  these  mountains— but  then  you  would 
laugh  at  me,  and  say  it  was  one  of  the  legacies  of  my  grand 
father  the  tailor." 

"  By  no  means,  Mateo.  There  is  nothing  I  relish  more  than 
a  marvellous  tale." 

"Well,  Senor,  it  is  about  one  of  those  very  men  we  have 
been  talking  of,  who  gather  snow  on  the  Sierra  Nevada.  You 
must  know  that  a  great  many  years  since,  in  my  grandfather's 
time,  there  was  an  old  fellow,  Tio  Nicolo  by  name,  who  had 
filled  the  panniers  of  his  mules  with  snow  and  ice,  and  was 
returning  down  the  mountain.  Being  very  drowsy,  ho 
mounted  upon  the  mule,  and,  soon  falling  asleep,  went  with 
his  head  nodding  and  bobbing  about  from  side  to  side,  while 
his  sure-footed  old  mule  stepped  along  the  edge  of  precipices, 
and  down  steep  and  broken  barrancos  just  as  safe  and  steady 
as  if  it  had  been  on  plain  ground.  At  length  Tio  Nicolo  awoke, 
and  gazed  about  him,  and  rubbed  his  eyes — and  in  good  truth 
he  had  reason — the  moon  shone  almost  as  bright  as  day,  and 
he  saw  the  city  below  him.  as  plain  as  your  hand,  and  shining 
with  its  white  buildings  like  a  silver  platter  in  the  moonshine ; 
but  lord !  Senor !— it  was  nothing  like  the  city  he  left  a  few 
hours  before.  Instead  of  the  cathedral  with  its  great  dome 


62  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

and  turrets,  and  the  churches  with  their  spires,  and  the  con 
vents  with  their  pinnacles  all  surmounted  with  the  blessed 
cross,  he  saw  nothing  but  Moorish  mosques,  and  minarets, 
and  cupolas,  all  topped  off  with  glittering  crescents,  such  as 
you  see  on  the  Barbary  flags.  Well,  Senor,  as  you  may  sup 
pose,  Tio  Nicolo  was  mightily  puzzled  at  all  this,  but  while  he 
was  gazing  down  upon  the  city,  a  great  army  came  marching 
up  the  mountain ;  winding  along  the  ravines,  sometimes  in  the 
moonshine,  sometimes  in  the  shade.  As  it  drew  nigh,  he  saw 
that  there  were  horse  and  foot,  all  in  Moorish  armour.  Tio 
Nicolo  tried  to  scramble  out  of  their  way,  but  his  old  mule 
stood  stock  still  and  refused  to  budge,  trembling  at  the  same 
time  like  a  leaf— for  dumb  -beasts,  Senor,  are  just  as  much 
frightened  at  such  things  as  human  beings.  Well,  Senor,  the 
hobgoblin  army  came  marching  by;  there  were  men  that 
seemed  to  blow  trumpets,  and  others  to  beat  drums  and  strike 
cymbals,  yet  never  a  sound  did  they  make ;  they  all  moved  on 
without  the  least  noise,  just  as  I  have  seen  painted  armies 
move  across  the  stage  in  the  theatre  of  Granada,  and  all 
looked  as  pale  as  death.  At  last  in  the  rear  of  the  army, 
between  two  black  Moorish  horsemen,  rode  the  grand  inquisi 
tor  of  Granada,  on  a  mule  as  white  as  snow.  Tio  Nicolo  won 
dered  to  see  him  in  such  company;  for  the  inquisitor  was 
famous  for  his  hatred  of  Moors,  and  indeed  of  all  kinds  of 
infidels,  Jews  and  heretics,  and  used  to  hunt  them  out  with 
fire  and  scourge — however,  Tio  Nicolo  felt  himself  safe,  now 
that  there  was  a  priest  of  such  sanctity  at  hand.  So,  making 
the  sign  of  the  cross,  he  called  out  for  his  benediction,  when — 
hombre !  he  received  a  blow  that  sent  him  and  his  old  mule 
over  the  edge  of  a  steep  bank,  down  which  they  rolled,  head 
over  heels,  to  the  bottom.  Tio  Nicolo  did  not  come  to  his 
senses  until  long  after  sunrise,  when  he  found  himself  at  the 
bottom  of  a  deep  ravine,  his  mule  grazing  beside  him,  and  his 
panniers  of  snow  completely  melted.  He  crawled  back  to 
Granada  sorely  bruised  and  battered,  and  was  glad  to  find  the 
city  looking  as  usual,  with  Christian  churches  and  crosses. 
When  he  told  the  story  of  his  night's  adventure,  every  one 
laughed  at  him :  some  said  he  had  dreamt  it  all,  as  he  dozed 
on  his  mule,  others  thought  it  all  a  fabrication  of  his  own. 
But  what  was  strange,  Senor,  and  made  people  afterwards 
think  more  seriously  of  the  matter,  was,  that  the  grand  in 
quisitor  died  within  the  year.  I  have  often  heard  my  grand 
father,  the  tailor,  say  that  there  was  more  meant  by  that 


THE  COURT  OF  LIONS.  63 

hobgoblin  army  bearing  off  the  resemblance  of  the  priest,  than 
folks  dared  to  surmise. " 

"Then  you  would  insinuate,  friend  Mateo,  that  there  is  a 
kind  of  Moorish  limbo,  or  purgatory,  in  the  bowels  of  these 
mountains;  to  which  the  padre  inquisitor  was  borne  off." 

"  God  forbid— Seiior— I  know  nothing  of  the  matter— I  only 
relate  what  I  heard  from  my  grandfather." 

By  the  time  Mateo  had  finished  the  tale  which  I  have  more 
succinctly  related,  and  which  was  interlarl3l  with  many 
comments,  and  spun  out  with  minute  details,  we  reached  the 
gate  of  the  Alhambra. 


THE  COURT  OF  LIONS. 

THE  peculiar  charm  of  this  old  dreamy  palace,  is  its  power 
of  calling  up  vague  reveries  and  picturings  of  the  past,  and 
thus  clothing  naked  realities  with  the  illusions  of  the  memory 
and  the  imagination.  As  I  delight  to  walk  in  these  "vain 
shadows,"  I  am  prone  to  seek  those  parts  of  the  Alhambra 
which  are  most  favourable  to  this  phantasmagoria  of  the 
mind ;  and  none  are  more  so  than  the  Court  of  Lions  and  its 
surrounding  halls.  Here  the  hand  of  time  has  fallen  the 
lightest,  and  the  traces  of  Moorish  elegance  and  splendour 
exist  in  almost  their  original  brilliancy.  Earthquakes  have 
shaken  the  foundations  of  this  pile,  and  rent  its  rudest  towers, 
yet  see— not  one  of  those  slender  columns  has  been  displaced, 
not  an  arch  of  that  light  and  fragile  colonnade  has  given  way, 
and  all  the  fairy  fretwork  of  these  domes,  apparently  as  un 
substantial  as  the  crystal  fabrics  of  a  morning's  frost,  yet  exist* 
after  the  lapse  of  centuries,  almost  as  fresh  as  if  from  the  hand 
of  the  Moslem  artist. 

I  write  in  the  midst  of  these  mementos  of  the  past,  in  the 
fresh  hour  of  early  morning,  in  the  fated  hall  of  the  Abencer- 
rages.    The  blood-stained  fountain,  the  legendary  monument 
of  their  massacre,  is  before  me ;  the  lofty  jet  almost  casts  its 
dew  upon  my  paper.     How  difficult  to  reconcile  the  ancient 
tale  of  violence  and  blood,  with  the  gentle  and  peaceful  scene 
around.     Every  thing  here  appears  calculated  to  inspire  kii 
and  happy  feelings,  for  every  thing  is  delicate  and  beautiful 
The  very  light  falls  tenderly  from  above,  through  the  lantern 


(54  TUB  ALHAMBRA. 

of  a  dome  tinted  and  wrought  as  if  by  fairy  hands.  Through 
the  ample  and  fretted  arch  of  the  portal,  I  behold  the  Court  of 
Lions,  with  brilliant  sunshine  gleaming  along  its  colonnades 
and  sparkling  in  its  fountains.  The  lively  swallow  dives  into 
the  court,  and  then  surging  upwards,  darts  away  twittering 
over  the  roof ;  the  busy  bee  toils  humming  among  the  flower 
beds,  and  painted  butterflies  hover  from  plant  to  plant,  and 
flutter  up,  and  sport  with  each  other  in  the  sunny  air. — It 
needs  but  a  slight  exertion  of  the  fancy  to  picture  some  pen 
sive  beauty  of  the  harem,  loitering  in  these  secluded  haunts  of 
oriental  luxury. 

He,  however,  who  would  behold  this  scene  under  an  aspect 
more  in  unison  with  its  fortunes,  let  him  come  when  the 
shadows  of  evening  temper  the  brightness  of  the  court,  and 
throw  a  gloom  into  the  surrounding  halls,— then  nothing  can 
be  more  serenely  melancholy,  or  more  in  harmony  with  the 
tale  of  departed  grandeur. 

At  such  times  I  am  apt  to  seek  the  Hall  of  Justice,  whose 
deep  shadowy  arcades  extend  across  the  upper  end  of  the 
court.  Here  were  performed,  in  presence  of  Ferdinand  and 
Isabella,  and  their  triumphant  court,  the  pompous  ceremonies 
of  high  mass,  on  taking  possession  of  the  Alhambra.  The  very 
cross  is  still  to  be  seen  upon  the  wall,  where  the  altar  was 
erected,  and  where  officiated  the  grand  cardinal  of  Spain,  and 
others  of  the  highest  religious  dignitaries  of  the  land. 

I  picture  to  myself  the  scene  when  this  place  was  filled  with 
the  conquering  host,  that  mixture  of  mitred  prelate,  and  shorn 
monk,  and  steel-clad  knight,  and  silken  courtier :  when  crosses 
and  croziers  and  religious  standards  were  mingled  with  proud 
armorial  ensigns  and  the  banners  of  the  haughty  chiefs  of 
Spain,  and  flaunted  in  triumph  through  these  Moslem  halls. 
J.  picture  to  myself  Columbus,  the  future  discoverer  of  a  world, 
taking  his  modest  stand  in  a  remote  corner,  the  humble  and 
neglected  spectator  of  the  pageant.  I  see  in  imagination  the 
Catholic  sovereigns  prostrating  themselves  before  the  altar 
and  pouring  forth  thanks  for  their  victory,  while  the  vaults 
resound  with  sacred  minstrelsy  and  the  deep-toned  Te  Deum. 

The  transient  illusion  is  over —the  pageant  melts  from  the 
fancy— monarch,  priest,  and  warrior  return  into  oblivion,  with 
the  poor  Moslems  over  whom  they  exulted.  The  hall  of  their 
triumph  is  waste  and  desolate.  The  bat  flits  about  its  twilight 
vaults,  and  the  owl  hoots  from  the  neighbouring  tower  of 
Comares.  The  Court  of  the  Lions  has  also  its  share  of  super- 


THE  COURT  OJ  LIONS.  65 

natural  legends.  I  have  already  mentioned  the  belief  in  the 
murmuring  of  voices  and  clanking  of  chains,  made  at  night 
by  the  spirits  of  the  murdered  Abencerrages.  Mateo  Ximenes, 
a  few  evening  since,  at  one  of  the  gatherings  in  Dame  An- 
tonia's  apartment,  related  a  fact  which  happened  within  the 
knowledge  of  his  grandfather,  the  legendary  tailor.  There 
was  an  invalid  soldier,  who  had  charge  of  the  Alhambra,  to 
show  it  to  strangers.  As  he  was  one  evening  about  twilight 
passing  through  the  Court  of  Lions,  he  heard  footsteps  in  the 
Hall  of  the  Abencerrages.  Supposing  some  loungers  to  be 
lingering  there,  he  advanced  to  attend  upon  them,  when,  to  his 
astonishment,  he  beheld  four  Moors  richly  dressed,  with  gilded 
cuirasses  and  scimitars,  and  poniards  glittering  with'  precious 
stones.  They  were  walking  to  and  fro  with  solemn  pace,  but 
paused  and  beckoned  to  him.  The  old  soldier,  however,  took 
to  flight;  and  could  never  afterwards  be  prevailed  upon  to 
enter  the  Alhambra.  Thus  it  is  that  men  sometimes  turn 
their  backs  upon  fortune ;  for  it  is  the  firm  opinion  of  Mateo 
that  the  Moors  intended  to  reveal  the  place  where  their  treas 
ures  lay  buried.  A  successor  to  the  invalid  soldier  was  more 
knowing ;  he  came  to  the  Alhambra  poor,  but  at  the  end  of  a 
year  went  off  to  Malaga,  bought  horses,  set  up  a  carriage,  and 
still  lives  there,  one  of  the  richest  as  well  as  oldest  men  of  the 
place :  all  which,  Mateo  sagely  surmises,  was  in  consequence  of 
his  finding  out  the  golden  secret  of  these  phantom  Moors. 

On  entering  the  Court  of  the  Lions,  a  few  evenings  since,  I 
was  startled  at  beholding  a  turbaned  Moor  quietly  seated  near 
the  fountain.  It  seemed,  for  a  moment,  as  if  one  of  the  stories 
of  Mateo  Ximenes  were  realized,  and  some  ancient  inhabitant 
of  the  Alhambra  had  broken  the  spell  of  centuries,  and  become 
visible.  It  proved,  however,  to  be  a  mere  ordinary  mortal ;  a 
native  of  Tetuan  in  Barbary,  who  had  a  shop  in  the  Zacatiii  of 
Granada,  where  he  sold  rhubarb,  trinkets,  and  perfumes.  As 
he  spoke  Spanish  fluently,  I  was  enabled  to  hold  conversation 
with  him,  and  found  him  shrewd  and  intelligent.  He  told  me 
that  he  came  up  the  hill  occasionally  in  the  summer,  to  pass  a 
part  of  the  day  in  the  Alhambra,  which  reminded,  him  of  the 
old  palaces  in  Barbary,  which  were  built  and  adorned  in  simi 
lar  style,  though  with  less  magnificence. 

As  we  walked  about  the  palace  he  pointed  out  several  of  the 
Arabic  inscriptions,  as  possessing  much  poetic  beauty. 

"  Ah!  Sefior,"  said  he,  "when  the  Moors  held  Granada,  they 
were  a  gayei  people  than  they  are  now-a-days.  They  thought 


66  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

only  of  love,  of  music,  and  of  poetry.  They  made  stanzas 
upon  every  occasion,  and  set  them  all  to  music.  He  who  could 
make  the  best  verses,  and  she  who  had  the  most  tuneful  voice, 
might  be  sure  of  favour  and  preferment.  In  those  days,  if 
any  one  asked  for  bread  the  reply  was,  '  Make  me  a  couplet ;' 
and  the  poorest  beggar,  if  he  begged  in  rhyme,  would  often  be 
rewarded  with  a  piece  of  gold." 

"And  is  the  popular  feeling  or  poetry,"  said  I,  "entirely 
lost  among  you?" 

"By  no  means,  Senor;  the  people  of  Barbary,  even  those  of 
the  lower  classes,  still  make  couplets,  and  good  ones  too,  as  in 
the  old  time,  but  talent  is  not  rewarded  as  it  was  then :  the 
rich  prefer  the  jingle  of  their  gold  to  the  sound  of  poetry  or 
music." 

As  he  was  talking,  his  eye  caught  one  of  the  inscriptions 
that  foretold  perpetuity  to  the  power  and  glory  of  the  Moslem 
monarchs,  the  masters  of  the  pile.  He  shook  his  head  and 
shrugged  his  shoulders  as  he  interpreted  it.  "Such  might 
have  been  the  case,"  said  he;  "the  Moslems  might  still  have 
been  reigning  in  the  Alhambra,  had  not  Boabdil  been  a  trai 
tor,  and  given  up  his  capitol  to  the  Christians.  The  Spanish 
monarchs  would  never  have  been  able  to  conquer  it  by  open 
force." 

I  endeavoured  to  vindicate  the  memory  of  the  unlucky  Bo 
abdil  from  this  aspersion,  and  -to  show  that  the  dissensions 
which  led  to  the  downfall  of  the  Moorish  throne,  originated  in 
the  cruelty  of  his  tiger-hearted  father;  but  the  Moor  would 
admit  of  no  palliation. 

"Abul  Hassan,"  said  he,  "might  have  been  cruel,  but  he 
was  brave,  vigilant,  and  patriotic.  Had  he  been  properly 
seconded,  Granada  would  still  have  been  ours;  but  his  son 
Boabdil  thwarted  his  plans,  crippled  his  power,  sowed  treason 
in  his  palace,  and  dissension  in  his  camp.  May  the  curse  of 
God  light  upon  him  for  his  treachery."  With  these  words  the 
Moor  left  the  Alhambra. 

The  indignation  of  my  turbaned  companion  agrees  with  an 
anecdote  related  by  a  friend,  who,  in  the  course  of  a  tour  in 
Barbary,  had  an  interview  with  the  pasha  of  Tetuan.  The 
Moorish  governor  was  particular  in  his  inquiries  about  the  soil, 
the  climate  and  resources  of  Spain,  and  especially  concerning 
the  favoured  regions  of  Andalusia,  the  delights  of  Granada 
and  the  remains  of  its  royal  palace.  The  replies  awakened  all 
those  fond  recollections,  so  deeply  cherished  by  the  Moors,  of 


BOABDIL  EL   CHICO.  67 

the  power  and  splendour  of  their  ancient  empire  in  Spain. 
Turning  to  his  Moslem  attendants,  the  pasha  stroked  his 
beard,  and  broke  forth  in  passionate  lamentations  that  such  a 
sceptre  should  have  fallen  from  the  sway  of  true  believers. 
He  consoled  himself,  however,  with  the  persuasion,  that  the 
power  and  prosperity  of  the  Spanish  nation  were  on  the  de 
cline  ;  that  a  time  would  come  when  the  Moors  would  recon 
quer  their  rightful  domains ;  and  that  the  day  was,  perhaps, 
not  far  distant,  when  Mohammedan  worship  would  again  be 
offered  up  in  the  mosque  of  Cordova,  and  a  Mohammedan 
prince  sit  on  his  throne  in  the  Alhambra. 

Such  is  the  general  aspiration  and  belief  among  the  Moors  of 
Barbary ;  who  consider  Spain,  and  especially  Andalusia,  their 
rightful  heritage,  of  which  they  have  been  despoiled  by 
treachery  and  violence.  These  ideas  are  fostered  and  per 
petuated  by  the  descendants  of  the  exiled  Moors  of  Granada, 
scattered  among  the  cities  of  Barbary.  Several  of  these  reside 
in  Tetuan.  preserving  their  ancient  names,  such  as  Paez,  and 
Medina,  and  refraining  from  intermarriage  with  any  families 
who  cannot  claim  the  same  high  origin.  Their  vaunted  lineage 
is  regarded  with  a  degree  of  popular  deference  rarely  shown  in 
Mohammedan  communities  to  any  hereditary  distinction  ex 
cept  in  the  royal  line. 

These  families,  it  is  said,  continue  to  sigh  after  the  terres 
trial  paradise  of  their  ancestors,  and  to  put  up  prayers  in  their 
ino^ques  on  Fridays,  imploring  Allah  to  hasten  the  time  when 
Granada  shall  be  restored  to  the  faithful ;  an  event  to  which 
they  look  forward  as  fondly  and  confidently  as  did  the  Chris 
tian  crusaders  to  the  recovery  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre.  Nay,  it 
is  added,  that  some  of  them  retain  the  ancient  maps  and  deeds 
of  the  estates  and  gardens  of  their  ancestors  at  Granada,  and 
even  the  keys  of  the  houses;  holding  them  as  evidences  of 
their  hereditary  claims,  to  be  produced  at  the  anticipated  day 
of  restoration. 


BOABDIL  EL  CHICO. 

MY  conversation  with  the  Moor  in  the  Court  of  Lions  set  me 
to  musing  on  the  singular  fate  of  Boabdil.  Never  was  sur 
name  more  applicable  than  that  bestowed  upon  him  by  his 
subjects,  of  "  El  Zogoybi, "  or,  ' '  the  unlucky. "  His  misfortunes 


68  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

began  almost  in  his  cradle.  In  his  tender  youth  he  was  impris 
oned  and  menaced  with  death  by  an  inhuman  father,  and  only 
escaped  through  a  mother's  stratagem ;  in  after  years  his  life 
was  imhittered  and  repeatedly  endangered  by  the  hostilities  of 
a  usurping  uncle;  his  reign  was  distracted  by  external  inva 
sions  and  internal  feuds ;  he  was  alternately  the  foe,  the  pris 
oner,  the  friend,  and  always  the  dupe  of  Ferdinand,  until 
conquered  and  dethroned  by  the  mingled  craft  and  force  of 
that  perfidious  monarch.  An  exile  from  his  native  land,  he 
took  refuge  with  one  of  the  princes  of  Africa,  and  fell  ob 
scurely  in  battle  fighting  in  the  cause  of  a  stranger.  His  mis' 
fortunes  ceased  not  with  his  death.  If  Boabdil  cherished  a 
desire  to  leave  an  honourable  name  on  the  historic  page,  how 
cruelly  has  he  been  defrauded  of  his  hopes !  Who  is  there  that 
has  turned  the  least  attention  to  the  romantic  history  of  the 
Moorish  domination  in  Spain,  without  kindling  with  indigna 
tion  at  the  alleged  atrocities  of  Boabdil?  Who  has  not  been 
touched  with  the  woes  of  his  lovely  and  gentle  queen,  subjected 
by  him  to  a  trial  of  life  and  death,  on  a  false  charge  of  infidel 
ity?  Who  has  not  been  shocked  by  the  alleged  murder  of  his 
sister  and  her  two  children,  in  a  transport  of  passion?  Who 
has  not  felt  his  blood  boil  at  the  inhuman  massacre  of  the  gal 
lant  Abencerrages,  thirty-six  of  whom,  it  is  affirmed,  he  caused 
to  be  beheaded  in  the  Court  of  the  Lions?  All  these  charges 
have  been  reiterated  in  various  forms ;  they  have  passed  into 
ballads,  dramas,  and  romances,  until  they  have  taken  too 
thorough  possession  of  the  public  mind  to  be  eradicated. 

There  is  not  a  foreigner  of  education  that  visits  the  Alham- 
bra,  but  asks  for  the  fountain  where  the  Abencerrages  were 
beheaded;  and  gazes  with  horror  at  the  grated  gallery  *vhcTo 
the  queen  is  said  to  have  been  confined ;  not  a  peasant  of  the 
Vega  or  the  Sierra,  but  sings  the  story  in  rude  couplets  to  the 
accompaniment  of  his  guita-  while  his  hearers  learn  to  exe 
crate  the  very  name  of  Boabdil. 

Never,  however,  was  name  more  foully  and  unjustly  slan 
dered.  I  have  examined  all  the  authentic  chronicles  and 
letters  written  by  Spanish  authors  contemporary  with  Boab 
dil  ;  some  of  whom  were  in  the  confidence  of  the  Catholic  sove 
reigns,  and  actually  present  in  the  camp  throughout  the  war ; 
I  have  examined  all  the  Arabian  authorities  I  could  get  access 
to  through  the  medium  of  translation,  and  can  find  nothing  to 
justify  these  dark  and  hateful  accusations. 

The  whole  of  these  tales  may  be  traced  to  a  work  commonlv 


BOABDIL  EL   CHICO.  gg 

called  "The  Civil  Wars  of  Granada,"  containing  a  pretended 
history  of  the  feuds  of  the  Zegries  and  Abencerrages  during 
the  last  struggle  of  the  Moorish  empire.  This  work  appeared 
originally  in  Spanish,  and  professed  to  be  translated  from  the 
Arabic  by  one  Gines  Perez  de  Hita,  an  inhabitant  of  Murcia. 
It  has  since  passed  into  various  languages,  and  Florian  has 
taken  from  it  much  of  the  fable  of  his  Gonsalvo  of  Cordova. 
It  has,  in  a  great  measure,  usurped  the  authority  of  real  his 
tory,  and  is  currently  believed  by  the  people,  and  especially 
the  peasantry  of  Granada.  The  whole  of  it,  however,  is  a  mass 
of  fiction,  mingled  with  a  few  disfigured  truths,  which  give  it 
an  air  of  veracity.  It  bears  internal  evidence  of  its  falsity,  the 
manners  and  customs  of  the  Moors  being  extravagantly  mis 
represented  in  it,  and  scenes  depicted  totally  incompatible 
with  their  habits  and  their  faith,  and  which  never  could  have 
been  recorded  by  a  Mahometan  writer. 

I  confess  there  seems  to  me  something  almost  criminal  in  the 
wilful  perversions  of  this  work.  Great  latitude  is  undoubtedly 
to  be  allowed  to  romantic  fiction,  but  there  are  limits  which  it 
must  not  pass,  and  the  names  of  the  distinguished  dead,  which 
belong  to  history,  are  no  more  to  be  calumniated  than  those  of 
the  illustrious  living.  One  would  have  thought,  too,  that  the 
unfortunate  Boabdil  had  suffered  enough  for  his  justifiable 
hostility  to  Spaniards,  by  being  stripped  of  his  kingdom,  with 
out  having  his  name  thus  wantonly  traduced  and  rendered  a 
bye- word  and  a  theme  of  infamy  in  his  native  land,  and  in  the 
very  mansion  of  his  fathers ! 

It  is  not  intended  hereby  to  affirm  that  the  transactions  in> 
puted  to  Boabdil  are  totally  without  historic  foundation,  but 
as  far  as  they  can  be  traced,  they  appear  to  have  been  the  arts 
of  his  father,  Abul  Hassan,  who  is  represented,  by  both  Chris 
tian  and  Arabian  chroniclers,  as  being  of  a  cruel  and  ferocious 
nature.  It  was  he  who  put  to  death  the  cavaliers  of  the  illus 
trious  line  of  the  Abencerrages,  upon  suspicion  of  their  being 
engaged  in  a  conspiracy  to  dispossess  him  of  his  throne. 

The  story  of  the  accusation  of  the  queen  of  Boabdil,  and  of 
her  confinement  in  one  of  the  towers,  may  also  be  traced  to  an 
incident  in  the  life  of  his  tiger-hearted  father.  Abul  Hassan, 
in  his  advanced  age,  married  a  beautiful  Christian  captive  of 
noble  descent,  who  took  the  Moorish  appellation  of  Zorayda, 
by  whom  he  had  two  sons.  She  was  of  an  ambitious  spirit, 
and  anxious  that  her  children  should  succeed  to  the  crown! 
For  this  purpose  she  worked  upon  the  suspicious  temper  of  tb*) 


70  THE  ALHAMBEA. 

king;  inflaming  him  with  jealousies  of  his  children  by  his 
other  wives  and  concubines,  whom  she .  accused  of  plotting 
against  his  throne  and  life.  Some  of  them  were  slain  by  the 
ferocious  father.  Ayxa  la  Horra,  the  virtuous  mother  of  Bo- 
abdil,  who  had  once  been  his  cherished  favourite,  became 
likewise  the  object  of  his  suspicion.  He  confined  her  and  her 
son  in  the  tower  of  Comares,  and  would  have  sacrificed  Boab- 
dil  to  his  fury,  but  that  his  tender  mother  lowered  him  from 
the  tower,  in  the  night,  by  means  of  the  scarfs  of  herself  and 
her  attendants,  and  thus  enabled  him  to  escape  to  Guadix. 

Such  is  the  only  shadow  of  a  foundation  that  I  can  find  for 
the  story  of  the  accused  and  captive  queen;  and  in  this  it 
appears  that  Boabdil  was  the  persecuted  instead  of  the  per 
secutor. 

Throughout  the  whole  of  his  brief,  turbulent,  and  disastrous 
reign,  Boabdil  gives  evidences  of  a  mild  and  amiable  character. 
He  in  the  first  instance  won  the  hearts  of  the  people  by  his 
affable  and  gracious  manners;  he  was  always  peaceable,  and 
never  inflicted  any  severity  of  punishment  upon  those  who 
occasionally  rebelled  against  him.  He  was  personally  brave, 
but  he  wanted  moral  courage,  and  in  times  of  difficulty  and 
perplexity,  was  wavering  and  irresolute.  This  feebleness  of 
spirit  hastened  his  downfall,  while  it  deprived  him  of  that 
heroic  grace  which  would  have  given  a  grandeur  and  dignity 
to  his  fate,  and  rendered  him  worthy  of  closing  the  splendid 
drama  of  the  Moslem  domination  in  Spain. 


MEMENTOS   OF   BOABDIL. 

WHILE  my  mind  was  still  warm  with  the  subject  of  the  un 
fortunate  Boabdil,  I  set  forth  to  trace  the  mementos  connected 
with  his  story,  which  yet  exist  in  this  scene  of  his  sovereignty 
and  his  misfortunes.  In  the  picture  gallery  of  the  Palace  of  the 
Generalise,  hangs  his  portrait.  The  face  is  mild,  handsome  and 
somewhat  melancholy,  with  a  -air  complexion  and  yellow  hair ; 
if  it  be  a  true  representation  of  the  man,  he  may  have  been 
wavering  and  uncertain,  but  there  is  nothing  of  cruelty  or  un- 
kindness  in  his  aspect. 

I  next  visited  the  dungeon  wherein  he  was  confined  in  his 
youthful  days,  when  his  cruel  father  meditated  his  destruction, 


MEMENTOS  OF  BOABDIL.  ^ 

It  is  a  vaulted  room  in  the  tower  of  Comares,  under  the  Hall  of 
Ambassadors.  A  similar  room,  separated  by  a  narrow  passage, 
was  the  prison  of  his  mother,  the  virtuous  Ayxa  la  Horra. 
The  walls  are  of  prodigious  thickness,  and  the  small  windows 
secured  by  iron  bars.  A  narrow  stone  gallery,  with  a  low  par 
apet,  extends  round  three  sides  of  the  tower  just  below  the 
windows,  but  at  a  considerable  height  from  the  ground.  From 
this  gallery,  it  is  presumed,  the  queen  lowered  her  son  with  the 
scarfs  of  herself  and  her  female  attendants,  during  the  dark 
ness  of  night,  to  the  hillside,  at  the  loot  of  which  waited  a  do 
mestic  with  a  fleet  steed  to  bear  the  prince  to  the  mountains. 

As  I  paced  this  gallery,  my  imagination  pictured  the  anxious 
queen  leaning  over  the  parapet,  and  listening,  with  the  throb- 
bings  of  a  mother's  heart,  to  the  last  echo  of  the  horse's  hoofs, 
as  her  son  scoured  along  the  narrow  valley  of  the  Darro. 

My  next  search  was  for  the  gate  by  which  Boabdil  departed 
from  the  Alhambra,  when  about  to  surrender  his  capital. 
With  the  melancholy  caprice  of  a  broken  spirit,  he  requested 
of  the  Catholic  monarchs  that  no  one  afterwards  might  be  per 
mitted  to  pass  through  this  gate.  His  prayer,  according  to  an 
cient  chronicles,  was  complied  with,  through  the  sympathy  of 
Isabella,  and  the  gate  walled  up.  For  some  time  I  inquired  in 
vain  for  such  a  portal ;  at  length  my  humble  attendant,  Mateo, 
learned  among  the  old  residents  of  the  fortress,  that  a  ruinous 
gateway  still  existed,  by  which,  according  to  tradition,  the 
Moorish  king  had  left  the  fortress,  but  which  had  never  been 
opened  within  the  memory  of  the  oldest  inhabitant. 

He  conducted  me  to  the  spot.  The  gateway  is  in  the  centre 
of  what  was  once  an  immense  tower,  called  la  Torre  de  los 
Siete  Suelos,  or,  the  Tower  of  the  Seven  Moors.  It  is  a  place 
famous  in  the  superstitious  stories  of  the  neighbourhood,  for 
being  the  scene  of  strange  apparitions  and  Moorish  enchant 
ments. 

This  once  redoubtable  tower  is  now  a  mere  wreck,  having 
been  blown  up  with  gunpowder,  by  the  French,  when  they 
abandoned  the  fortress.  Groat  masses  of  the  wall  lie  scattered 
about,  buried  in  the  luxuriant  herbage,  or  overshadowed  by 
vines  and  fig-trees.  The  arch  of  the  gateway,  though  rent  by 
the  shock,  still  remains ;  but  the  last  wish  of  poor  Boabdil  has 
been  again,  though  unintentionally,  fulfilled,  for  the  portal  has 
been  closed  up  by  loose  stones  gathered  from  the  ruins,  and  re 
mains  impassable. 

Following  up  the  route  of  the  Moslem  monarch  as  it  remains 


72  THE  AL1IAMBRA. 

on  record,  I  crossed  on  horseback  the  hill  of  Les  Martyrs,  keep 
ing  along  the  garden  of  the  convent  of  the  same  name,  and 
thence  down  a  rugged  ravine,  beset  by  thickets  of  aloes  and 
Indian  figs,  and  lined  by  caves  and  hovels  swarming  with  gip 
sies.  It  was  the  road  taken  by  Boabdil  to  avoid  passing 
through  the  city.  The  descent  was  so  steep  and  broken  that  I 
was  obliged  to  dismount  and  lead  my  horse. 

Emerging  from  the  ravine,  and  passing  by  the  Puerta  de  los 
Molinos,  (the  Gate  of  the  Mills,)  I  issued  forth  upon  the  public 
promenade,  called  the  Prado,  and  pursuing  the  course  of  the 
Xenil,  arrived  at  a  small  Moorish  mosque,  now  converted  into 
the  chapel,  or  hermitage  of  San  Sebastian.  A  tablet  on  the 
wall  relates  that  on  this  spot  Boa,bdil  surrendered  the  keys  of 
Granada  to  the  Castilian  sovereigns. 

From  thence  I  rode  slowly  across  the  Vega  to  a  village  where 
the  family  and  household  of  the  unhappy  king  had  awaited 
him ;  for  he  had  sent  them  forward  on  the  preceding  night  from 
the  Alhambra,  that  his  mother  and  wife  might  not  participate 
in  his  personal  humiliation,  or  be  exposed  to  the  gaze  of  the 
conquerors. 

Following  on  in  the  route  of  the  melancholy  band  of  royal 
exiles,  I  arrived  at  the  foot  of  a  chain  of  barren  and  dreary 
heights,  forming  the  skirt  of  the  Alpuxarra  mountains.  From 
the  summit  of  one  of  these,  the  unfortunate  Boabdil  took  his 
last  look  at  Granada.  It  bears  a  name  expressive  of  his  sor 
rows—La  Cuesta  de  las  Lagrimas,  (the  Hill  of  Tears.)  Beyond 
it  a  sandy  road  winds  across  a  rugged  cheerless  waste,  doubly 
dismal  to  the  unhappy  monarch,  as  it  led  to  exile ;  behind,  in 
the  distance,  lies  the  "  enamelled  Vega,"  with  the  Xenil  shining 
among  its  bowers,  and  Granada  beyond. 

I  spurred  my  horse  to  the  summit  of  a  rock,  where  Boabdil 
uttered  his  last  sorrowful  exclamation,  as  he  turned  his  eyes 
from  taking  their  farewell  gaze.  It  is  still  denominated  el  ul 
timo  suspiro  del  Moro,  (the  last  sigh  of  the  Moor.)  Who  can 
wonder  at  his  anguish  at  being  expelled  from  such  a  kingdom 
and  such  an  abode?  With  the  Alhambra  he  seemed  to  be 
yielding  up  all  the  honours  of  his  line,  and  all  the  glories  and 
delights  of  life. 

It  was  here,  too,  that  his  affliction  was  imbittered  by  the  re 
proach  of  his  mother  Ayxa,  who  had  so  often  assisted  him  in 
times  of  peril,  and  had  vainly  sought  to  instil  into  him  her  own 
resolute  spirit.  ' '  You  do  well, "  said  she,  ' '  to  weep  as  a  woman 
over  what  you  could  not  defend  as  a  man !" — A  speech  that 


THE  TOWER  OF  LAS  INFANTAS.  73 

savours  more  of  the  pride  of  the  princess,  than  the  tenderness 
of  the  mother. 

When  this  anecdote  was  related  to  Charles  V.,  by  Bishop 
Guevara,  the  emperor  joined  in  the  expression  of  scorn  at  the 
weakness  of  the  wavering  Boabdil.  "Had  I  been  he,  or  he 
been  I,"  said  the  haughty  potentate,  "I  would  rather  have 
made  this  Alhambra  my  sepulchre,  than  have  lived  without  a 
kingdom  in  the  Alpuxarra. 

How  easy  it  is  for  them  in  power  and  prosperity  to  preach 
heroism  to  the  vanquished !  How  little  can  they  understand 
that  life  itself  may  rise  in  value  with  the  unfortunate,  when 
nought  but  life  remains. 


THE  TOWER  OF  LAS  INFANTAS. 

IN  an  evening's  stroll  up  a  narrow  glen,  overshadowed  by 
fig-trees,  pomegranates,  and  myrtles,  that  divides  the  land  of 
the  fortress  from  those  of  the  Generaliffe,  I  was  struck  with 
the  romantic  appearance  of  a  Moorish  tower  in  the  outer  wall 
of  the  Alhambra,  that  rose  high  above  the  tree-tops,  and 
caught  the  ruddy  rays  of  the  setting  sun.  A  solitary  window, 
at  a  great  height,  commanded  a  view  of  the  glen,  and  as  I  was 
regarding  it  a  young  female  looked  out,  with  her  head  adorned 
with  flowers.  She  was  evidently  superior  to  the  usual  class  of 
people  that  inhabit  the  old  towers  of  the  fortress;  and  this 
sudden  and  picturesque  glimpse  of  her,  reminded  me  of  the 
descriptions  of  captive  beauties  in  fairy  tales.  The  fanciful 
associations  of  my  mind  were  increased  on  being  informed  by 
my  attendant,  Mateo,  that  this  was  the  tower  of  the  princesses, 
(la  Torre  de  las  Infantas,)  so  called  from  having  been,  accord 
ing  to  tradition,  the  residence  of  the  daughters  of  the  Moorish 
kings.  I  have  since  visited  the  tower.  It  is  not  generally 
shown  to  strangers,  though  well  worthy  attention,  for  the, 
interior  is  equal  for  beauty  of  architecture  and  delicacy  oi 
ornament,  to  any  part  of  the  palace.  The  elegance  of  its  cen 
tral  hall  with  its  marble  fountain,  its  lofty  arches  and  richly 
fretted  dome;  the  arabesques  and  stucco  work  of  the  small, 
but  well-proportioned  chambers,  though  injured  by  time  and 
neglect,  all  accord  with  the  story  of  its  being  anciently  the 
abode  of  royal  beauty. 


74  THE  ALUAMBRA. 

The  little  old  fairy  queen  who  lives  under  the  staircase  of 
the  Alhambra,  and  frequents  the  evening  tertulias  of  Dame 
Antoiiia,  tells  some  fanciful  traditions  about  three  Moorish 
princesses  who  were  once  shut  up  in  this  tower  by  their  father, 
a  tyrant  king  of  Granada,  and  were  only  permitted  to  ride  out 
at  night  about  the  hills,  when  no  one  was  permitted  to  come  in 
their  way,  under  pain  of  death.  They  still,  according  to  her 
account,  may  be  seen  occasionally  when  the  moon  is  in  the 
full,  riding  in  lonely  places  along  the  mountain  side,  on  pal 
freys  richly  caparisoned,  and  sparkling  with  jewels,  but  they 
vanish  on  being  spoken  to. 

—But  before  I  relate  any  thing  farther  respecting  these  prin 
cesses,  the  reader  may  be  anxious  to  know  something  about 
the  fair  inhabitant  of  the  tower  with  her  head  drest  with 
flowers,  who  looked  out  from  the  lofty  window.  She  proved 
to  be  the  newly  married  spouse  of  the  worthy  adjutant  of 
invalids;  who,  though  well  stricken  in  years,  had  had  the 
courage  to  take  to  his  bosom  a  young  and  buxom  Andalusian 
damsel.  May  the  good  old  cavalier  be  happy  in  his  choice, 
and  find  the  tower  of  the  Princesses  a  more  secure  residence 
for  female  beauty  than  it  seems  to  have  proved  in  the  time  of 
the  Moslems,  if  we  may  believe  the  following  legend. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  WEATHERCOCK. 

ON  the  brow  of  the  lofty  hill  of  the  Albaycin,  the  highest 
part  of  the  city  of  Granada,  stand  the  remains  of  what  was 
once  a  royal  palace,  founded  shortly  after  the  conquest  of 
Spain  by  the  Arabs.  It  is  now  converted  into  a  manufactory, 
and  has  fallen  into  such  obscurity  that  it  cost  me  much  trouble 
to  find  it.  notwithstanding  that  I  had  the  assistance  of  the 
sagacious  and  all-knowing  Mateo  Ximenes.  This  edifice  still 
bears  the  name  by  which  it  has  been  known  for  centuries, 
namely,  la  Casa  del  Gallo  de  Viento ;  that  is,  the  House  of  the 
Weathercock. 

It  was  so  called  from  a  bronze  figure  of  a  warrior  on  horse 
back,  armed  with  shield  and  spear,  erected  on  one  of  its  tur 
rets,  and  turning  with  every  wind ;  bearing  an  Arabic  motto, 
which,  translated  into  Spanish,  was  as  follows : 


THE  LEGEND  OP  THE  ARABIAN  ASTROLOGER.   75 

Dici  el  Sabio  Aben  Habuz 
Que  asi  se  deflende  el  Anduluz. 

In  this  way,  says  Aben  Habuz  the  wise, 
The  Andalusian  his  foe  defies. 

This  Aben  Habuz  was  a  captain  who  served  in  the  invading 
army  of  Taric,  and  was  left  as  alcayde  of  Granada.  He  is 
supposed  to  have  intended  this  warlike  effigy  as  a  perpetual 
memorial  to  the  Moorish  inhabitants,  that  surrounded  as  they 
were  by  foes,  and  subject  to  sudden  invasion,  their  safety 
depended  upon  being  always  ready  for  the  field. 

Other  traditions,  however,  give  a  different  account  of  this 
Aben  Habuz  and  his  palace,  and  affirm  that  his  bronze  horse 
man  was  originally  a  talisman  of  great  virtue,  though  in  after 
ages  it  lost  its  magic  properties  and  degenerated  into  a  weath 
ercock.  The  following  are  the  traditions  alluded  to. 


THE  LEGEND  OF  THE  ARABIAN  ASTROLOGER. 

IN  old  times,  many  hundred  years  ago,  there  was  a  Moorish 
king  named  Aben  Habuz,  who  reigned  over  the  kingdom  of 
Granada.  He  was  a  retired  conqueror,  that  is  to  say,  one 
who,  having  in  his  more  youthful  days  led  a  life  of  constant 
foray  and  depredation,  now  that  he  was  grown  old  and  super 
annuated,  "languished  for  repose,"  and  desired  nothing  more 
than  to  live  at  peace  with  all  the  world,  to  husband  his  laurels, 
and  to  enjoy  in  quiet  the  possessions  he  had  wrested  from  his 
neighbours. 

It  so  happened,  however,  that  this  most  reasonable  and 
pacific  old  monarch  had  young  rivals  to  deal  with— princes  full 
of  his  early  passion  for  fame  and  fighting,  and  who  had  some 
scores  to  settle  which  he  had  run  up  with  their  fathers ;  he 
had  also  some  turbulent  and  discontented  districts  of  his  own 
territories  among  the  Alpuxarra  mountains,  which,  during 
tne  days  of  his  vigour,  he  had  treated  with  a  high  hand ;  and 
which,  now  that  he  languished  for  repose,  were  prone  to  rise 
in  rebellion  and  to  threaten  to  march  to  Granada  and  drive 
him  from  his  throne.  To  make  the  matter  worse,  as  Granada 
is  surrounded  by  wild  and  craggy  mountains  which  hide  the 
approach  of  an  enemy,  the  unfortunate  Aben  Habuz  was  kept 
in  a  constant  state  of  vigilance  and  alarm,  not  knowing  in 
what  quarter  hostilities  might  break  out. 


76  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

It  was  in  vain  that  he  built  watch-towers  on  the  mountains 
and  stationed  guards  at  every  pass,  with  orders  to  make  fires 
by  night,  and  smoke  by  day,  on  the  approach  of  an  enemy. 
His  alert  foes  would  baffle  every  precaution,  and  come  break 
ing  out  of  some  unthought-of  defile, — ravage  his  lands  beneath 
his  very  nose,  and  then  make  off  with  prisoners  and  booty  to 
the  mountains.  Was  ever  peaceable  and  retired  conqueror  in 
a  more  uncomfortable  predicament ! 

While  the  pacific  Aben  Habuz  was  harassed  by  these  per 
plexities  and  molestations,  an  ancient  Arabian  physician  ar 
rived  at  his  court.  His  gray  beard  descended  to  his  girdle, 
and  he  had  every  mark  of  extreme  age,  yet  he  had  travelled 
almost  the  whole  way  from  Egypt  on  foot,  with  no  other  aid 
than  a  staff  marked  with  hieroglyphics.  His  fame  had  pre 
ceded  him.  His  name  was  Ibrahim  Ebn  Abu  Ayub ;  he  was 
said  to  have  lived  ever  since  the  days  of  Mahomet,  and  to  be 
the  son  of  Abu  Ayub,  the  last  of  the  companions  of  the  prophet. 
He  had,  when  a  child,  followed  the  conquering  army  of  Amru 
into  Egypt,  where  he  had  remained  many  years  studying  the 
dark  sciences,  and  particularly  magic,  among  the  Egyptian 
priests.  It  was  moreover  said  that  he  had  found  out  the  secret 
of  prolonging  life,  by  means  of  which  he  had  arrived  to  the 
great  age  of  upwards  of  two  centuries ;  though,  as  he  did  not 
discover  the  secret  until  well  stricken  in  years,  he  could  only 
perpetuate  his  gray  hairs  and  wrinkles. 

This  wonderful  old  man  was  very  honourably  entertained 
by  the  king;  who,  like  most  superannuated  monarchs,  began 
to  take  physicians  into  great  favour.  He  would  have  assigned 
him  an  apartment  in  his  palace,  but  the  astrologer  preferred  a 
cave  in  the  side  of  the  hill,  which  rises  above  the  city  of  Gran 
ada,  being  the  same  on  which  the  Alhambra  has  since  been 
built.  He  caused  the  cave  to  be  enlarged  so  as  to  form  a 
spacious  and  lofty  hall  with  a  circular  hole  at  the  top,  through 
which,  as  through  a  well,  he  could  see  the  heavens  and  behold 
'the  stars  even  at  mid-day.  The  wall  of  this  hall  were  covered 
with  Egyptian  hieroglyphics,  with  cabalistic  symbols,  and  with 
the  figures  of  the  stars  in  their  signs.  This  hall  he  furnished 
with  many  implements,  fabricated  under  his  direction  by  cun 
ning  artificers  of  Granada,  but  the  occult  properties  of  which 
were  only  known  to  himself.  In  a  little  while  the  sage  Ibra 
him  became  the  bosom  counsellor  of  the  king,  to  whom  he  ap 
plied  for  advice  in  every  emergency.  Aben  Habuz  was  once 
inveighing  against  the  injustice  of  his  neighbours,  and  bewail' 


THE  LKGEHD   OF  THE  ARABIAN  ASTROLOGER.      77 

Ing  the  restless  vigilance  he  had  to  observe  to  guard  himself 
against  their  invasions ; — when  he  had  finished,  the  astrologer 
remained  silent  for  a  moment,  and  then  replied,  ' '  Know,  O 
king,  that  when  I  was  in  Egypt  I  beheld  a  great  marvel  devised 
by  a  pagan  priestess  of  old.  On  a  mountain  above  the  city  of 
Borsa,  and  overlooking  the  great  valley  of  the  Nile,  was  a 
figure  of  a  ram,  and  above  it  a  figure  of  a  cock,  both  of  molten 
brass  and  turning  upon  a  pivot.  Whenever  the  country  was 
threatened  with  invasion,  the  ram  would  turn  in  the  direction 
of  the  enemy  and  the  cock  would  crow ;  upon  this  the  inhabi 
tants  of  the  city  knew  of  the  danger,  and  of  the  quarter  from 
which  it  was  approaching,  and  could  take  timely  notice  to 
guard  against  it." 

"God  is  great!"  exclaimed  the  pacific  Aben  Habuz ;  "what 
a  treasure  would  be  such  a  ram  to  keep  an  eye  upon  these 
mountains  around  me,  and  then  such  a  cock  to  crow  in  time  of 
danger!  Allah  Achbar!  how  securely  I  might  sleep  in  my 
palace  with  such  sent:  lels  on  the  top !" 

"  Listen,  O  king,"  continued  the  astrologer  gravely.  "When 
the  victorious  Amru  (God's  peace  be  upon  him !)  conquered  the 
city  of  Borsa,  this  talisman  was  destroyed ;  but  I  was  present, 
and  examined  it,  and  studied  its  secret  and  mystery,  and  can 
make  one  of  like,  and  even  of  greater  virtues." 

"  O  wise  son  of  Abu  Ayub,"  cried  Aben  Habuz,  "better  were 
such  a  talisman  than  all  the  watch-towers  on  the  hills,  and 
sentinels  upon  the  borders.  Give  me  such  a  safeguard,  and 
the  riches  of  my  treasury  are  at  thy  command." 

The  astrologer  immediately  set  to  work  to  gratify  the  wishes 
of  the  monarch ;  shutting  himself  up  in  his  astrological  hall, 
and  exerting  the  necromantic  arts  he  had  learnt  in  Egypt,  he 
summoned  to  his  assistance  the  spirits  and  demons  of  the  Nile. 
By  his  command  they  transported  to  his  presence  a  mummy 
from  a  sepulchral  chamber  in  the  centre  of  one  of  the  Pyra 
mids.  It  was  the  mummy  of  the  priest  who  had  aided  by 
magic  art  in  rearing  that  stupendous  pile. 

The  astrologer  opened  the  outer  cases  of  the  mummy,  and 
unfolded  its  many  wrappers.  On  the  breast  of  the  corpse  was 
a  book  written  in  Chaldaic  characters.  He  seized  it  with 
trembling  hand,  then  returning  the  mummy  to  its  case, 
ordered  the  demons  to  transport  it  again  to  its  dark  and  silent 
sepulchre  in  the  Pyramid,  there  to  await  the  final  day  of  resur 
rection  and  judgment. 

This  book,  say  the  traditions,  was  the  book  of  knowledge 


78  THE  A  LH AM  BRA. 

given  by  God  to  Adam  after  his  fall.  It  had  been  handed 
down  from  generation  to  generation,  to  King  Solomon  the 
Wise,  and  by  the  aid  of  the  wonderful  secrets  in  magic  and  art 
revealed  in  it,  he  had  built  the  temple  of  Jerusalem.  How  it 
had  come  into  the  possession  of  the  builder  of  the  Pyramids, 
He  only  knows  who  knows  all  things. 

Instructed  by  this  mystic  volume,  and  aided  by  the  genii 
which  it  subjected  to  his  command,  the  astrologer  soon  erected 
a  great  tower  upon  the  top  of  the  palace  of  Aben  Habuz,  which 
stood  on  the  brow  of  the  hill  of  the  Albaycin.  The  tower  was 
built  of  stones  brought  from  Egypt,  and  taken,  it  is  said,  from 
one  of  the  Pyramids.  In  the  upper  part  of  the  tower  was  a 
circular  hall,  with  windows  looking  toward  every  point  of  the 
compass,  and  before  each  window  was  a  table,  on  which  was 
arranged,  as  on  a  chess-board,  a  mimic  army  of  horse  and  foot, 
with  the  effigy  of  the  potentate  that  ruled  in  that  direction ;  all 
carved  of  wood.  To  each  of  these  tables  there  was  a  small 
lance,  no  bigger  than  a  bodkin,  on  which  were  engraved  certain 
mysterious  Chaldaic  characters.  This  hall  was  kept  constantly 
closed  by  a  gate  of  brass  with  a  great  lock  of  steel,  the  key  of 
which  was  in  possession  of  the  king. 

On.  the  top  of  the  tower  was  a  bronze  figure  of  a  Moorish 
horseman,  fixed  on  a  pivot,  with  a  shield  on  one  arm,  and  his 
lance  elevated  perpendicularly.  The  face  of  this  horseman 
was  towards  the  city,  as  if  keeping  guard  over  it ;  but  if  any 
foe  were  at  hand,  the  figure  would  turn  in  that  direction  and 
would  level  the  lance  as  if  for  action. 

When  this  talisman  was  finished,  Aben  Habuz  was  all  impa 
tient  to  try  its  virtues ;  and  longed  as  ardently  for  an  invasion 
as  he  had  ever  sighed  after  repose.  His  desire  was  soon  grati 
fied.  Tidings  were  brought  early  one  morning,  by  the  sentinel 
appointed  to  watch  the  tower,  that  the  face  of  the  brazen  horse 
man  was  turned  towards  the  mountains  of  Elvira,  and  that  his 
lance  pointed  directly  against  the  pass  of  Lope. 

"  Let  the  drums  and  trumpets  sound  to  arms,  and  all  Gran 
ada  be  put  on  the  alert,"  said  Aben  Habuz. 

"0  king,"  said  the  astrologer,  "let  not  your  city  be  dis 
quieted,  nor  your  warriors  called  to  arms ;  we  need  no  aid  of 
force  to  deliver  you  from  your  enemies.  Dismiss  your  attend 
ants  and  let  us  proceed  alone  to  the  secret  hall  of  the  tower. " 

The  ancient  Aben  Habuz  mounted  the  staircase  of  the  tower, 
leaning  on  the  arm  of  the  still  more  ancient  Ibrahim  Ebn  Abu 
Ayub.  They  unlocked  the  brazen  door  and  entered. 


THE  LEGEND  OF  THE  ARABIAN  ASTROLOGER.   79 

window  that  looked  towards  the  pass  of  Lope  was  open.  u  In 
this  direction,"  said  the  astrologer,  "  lies  the  danger — approach, 
0  king,  and  behold  the  mystery  of  the  table. " 

King  Aben  Habuz  approached  the  seeming  chess-board,  on 
which  were  arranged  the  small  wooden  effigies;  when  lo!  they 
were  all  in  motion.  The  horses  pranced  and  curveted,  the 
warriors  brandished  their  weapons,  and  there  was  a  faint 
sound  of  drums  and  trumpets,  and  a  clang  of  arms  and  neigh 
ing  of  steeds,  but  all  no  louder,  nor  more  distinct,  than  the 
hum  of  the  bee  or  summer-fly  in  the  drowsy  ear  of  him  who 
lies  at  noon-tide  in  the  shade. 

"Behold,  O  king,"  said  the  astrologer,  "a  proof  that  thy  en- 
emies  are  even  now  in  the  field.  They  must  be  advancing 
through  yonder  mountains  by  the  pass  of  Lope.  Would  you 
produce  a  panic  and  confusion  amongst  them,  and  cause  them 
to  abandon  their  enterprise  and  retreat  without  loss  of  life, 
strike  these  effigies  with  the  butt  end  of  this  magic  lance ;  but 
would  you  cause  bloody  feud  and  carnage  among  them,  strike 
with  the  point." 

A  livid  streak  passed  across  the  countenance  of  the  pacific 
Aben  Habuz ;  he  seized  the  mimic  lance  with  trembling  eager- 
ness,  and  tottered  towards  the  table ;  his  gray  beard  wagged 
with  chuckling  exultation.  "Son  of  Abu  Ayub,"  exclaimed 
he,  u  I  think  we  will  have  a  little  blood !" 

So  saying  he  thrust  the  magic  lance  into  some  of  the  pigmy 
effigies,  and  belaboured  others  with  the  butt  end ;  upon  which 
the  former  fell,  as  dead,  upon  the  board,  and  the  rest  turning 
upon  each  other,  began,  pell-mell,  a  chance-medley  fight. 

It  was  with  difficulty  the  astrologer  could  stay  the  hand  oi 
the  most  pacific  of  monarchs,  and  prevent  him  from  absolutely 
exterminating  his  foes.  At  length  he  prevailed  upon  him  to 
leave  the  tower,  and  to  send  out  scouts  to  the  mountains  by 
the  pass  of  Lope. 

They  returned  with  the  intelligence  that  a  Christian  army 
had  advanced  through  the  heart  of  the  Sierra,  almost  within 
sight  of  Granada,  when  a  dissension  having  broken  out  among 
them,  they  had  turned  their  weapons  against  each  other,  and 
after  much  slaughter,  had  retreated  over  the  border. 

Aben  Habuz  was  transported  with  joy  on  thus  proving  the 
efficacy  of  the  talisman.  "At  length,"  said  he,  "I  shall  lead 
a  life  of  tranquillity,  and  have  all  my  enemies  in  my  power. 
Oh !  wise  son  of  Abu  Ayub,  what  can  I  bestow  on  thee  in  re 
ward  for  such  a  blessing  ?" 


80  THE  ALUAMBRA. 

"The  wants  of  an  old  man  and  a  philosopher,  O  king,  arc 
few  and  simple— grant  me  but  the  means  of  fitting  up  my  cave 
as  a  suitable  hermitage,  and  I  am  content. " 

"How  noble  is  the  moderation  of  the  truly  wise !"  exclaimed 
Aben  Habuz,  secretly  pleased  at  the  cheapness  of  the  recom 
pense.  He  summoned  his  treasurer,  and  bade  him  dispense 
whatever  sums  might  be  required  by  Ibrahim  to  complete  and 
furnish  his  hermitage. 

The  astrologer  now  gave  orders  to  have  various  chambers 
hewn  out  of  the  solid  rock,  so  as  to  form  ranges  of  apartments 
connected  with  his  astrological  hall.  These  he  caused  to  be 
furnished  with  luxurious  ottomans  and  divans ;  and  the  walls 
to  be  hung  with  the  richest  silks  of  Damascus.  "I  am  an  old 
man,"  said  he,  "and  can  no  longer  rest  my  bones  on  stone 
couches;  and  these  damp  walls  require  covering." 

He  also  had  baths  constructed  and  provided  with  all  kinds  of 
perfumery  and  aromatic  oils;  "  for  a  bath,"  said  he,  "is  neces 
sary  to  counteract  the  rigidity  of  age,  and  to  restore  freshness 
and  suppleness  to  the  frame  withered  by  study. " 

He  caused  the  apartments  to  be  hung  with  innumerable  silver 
and  crystal  lamps,  which  he  filled  with  a  fragrant  oil  prepared 
according  to  a  receipt  discovered  by  him  in  the  tombs  of  Egypt. 
This  oil  was  perpetual  in  its  nature,  and  diffused  a  soft  radi 
ance  like  the  tempered  light  of  day.  "The  light  of  the  sun," 
said  he,  ' '  is  too  garish  and  violent  for  the  eyes  of  an  old  man ; 
and  the  light  of  the  lamp  is  more  congenial  to  the  studies  of  a 
philosopher." 

The  treasurer  of  King  Aben  Habuz  groaned  at  the  sums 
daily  demanded  to  fit  up  this  hermitage,  and  he  carried  his 
complaints  to  the  king.  The  royal  word,  however,  was  given 
— Aben  Habuz  shrugged  his  shoulders.— "We  must  have  pa 
tience,"  said  he;  "this  old  man  has  taken  his  idea  of  a  philo 
sophic  retreat  from  the  interior  of  the  Pyramids  and  the  vast 
ruins  of  Egypt ;  but  all  things  have  an  end,  and  so  will  the 
furnishing  of  his  cavern." 

The  king  was  in  the  right ;  the  hermitage  was  at  length  com 
plete,  and  formed  a  sumptuous  subterranean  palace.  "I  am 
now  content,"  said  Ibrahim  Ebn  Abu  Ayub,  to  the  treasurer; 
"I  will  shut  myself  up  in  my  cell  and  devote  my  time  to  study. 
I  desire  nothing  more, — nothing, — except  a  trifling  solace  to 
amuse  me  at  the  intervals  of  mental  labour. " 

"Oh!  wise  Ibrahim,  ask  what  thou  wilt;  I  am  bound  to  fur 
nish  all  that  is  necessary  for  thy  solitude." 


THE  LEGEND   OF  THE  ARABIAN  ASTROLOGER.      81 

"  I  would  fain  have  then  a  few  dancing  women,"  said  the 
philosopher. 

"Dancing  women!"  echoed  the  treasurer  with  surprise. 

"Dancing  women,"  replied  the  sage,  gravely:  "a  few  will 
suffice ;  for  I  am  an  old  man  and  a  philosopher,  of  simple  hab 
its  and  easily  satisfied.  Let  them,  however,  be  young  and  fair 
to  look  upon— for  the  sight  of  youth  and  beauty  is  refreshing 
to  old  age." 

While  the  philosophic  Ibrahim  Ebn  Ayub  passed  his  time 
thus  sagely  in  his  hermitage,  the  pacific  Aben  Habuz  carried 
on  furious  campaigns  in  effigy  in  his  tower.  It  was  a  glorious 
thing  for  an  old  man  like  himself,  of  quiet  habits,  to  have  war 
made  easy,  and  to  be  enabled  to  amuse  himself  in  his  chamber 
by  brushing  away  whole  armies  like  so  many  swarms  of  flies. 
For  a  time  he  rioted  in  the  indulgence  of  his  humours,  and 
even  taunted  and  insulted  his  neighbuurs  to  induce  them  to 
make  incursions ;  but  by  degrees  they  grew  wary  from  repeated 
disasters,  until  no  one  ventured  to  uwade  his  territories.  For 
many  months  the  bronze  horseman  remained  on  the  peace 
establishment  with  his  lance  elevated  in  the  air,  and  the 
worthy  old  monarch  began  to  repine  at  the  want  of  his  ac 
customed  sport,  and  to  grow  peevish  at  his  monotonous  tran 
quillity. 

At  length,  one  day,  the  talismanic  horseman  veered  suddenly 
round,  and,  lowering  his  lance,  made  a  dead  point  towards  the 
mountains  of  Guadix.  Aben  Habuz  hastened  to  his  tower,  but 
the  magic  table  in  that  direction  remained  quiet— not  a  single 
warrior  was  in  motion.  Perplexed  at  the  circumstance,  he  sent 
forth  a  troop  of  horse  to  scour  the  mountains  and  reconnoitre. 
They  returned  after  three  days'  absence.  Rodovan,  the  captain 
of  the  troop,  addressed  the  king:  "We  have  searched  every 
mountain  pass,"  said  he,  "but  not  a  helm  or  spear  was  stirring. 
All  that  we  have  found  in  the  course  of  our  foray  was  a  Chris 
tian  damsel  of  surpassing  beauty,  sleeping  at  noon-tidfe  beside 
a  fountain,  whom  we  have  brought  away  captive." 

"A  damsel  of  surpassing  beauty!"  exclaimed  Aben  Habuz, 
his  eyes  gleaming  with  animation:  "  let  her  be  conducted  into 
my  presence."  "Pardon  me,  O  king!"  replied  Rodovan,  "but 
our  warfare  at  present  is  scanty ;  and  yields  but  little  harvest. 
I  had  hoped  this  chance  gleaning  would  have  been  allowed  foi 
my  services. " 

' '  Chance  gleaning !"  cried  Aben  Habuz.  ' '  What ! — a  damsel 
of  surpassing  beauty!  By  the  head  of  my  father!  it  is  the 


82  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

choice  fruits  of  warfare,  only  to  be  garnered  up  into  the  royal 
keeping.  —Let  the  damsel  be  brought  hither  instantly." 

The  beautiful  damsel  was  accordingly  conducted  into  his 
presence.  She  was  arrayed  in  the  Gothic  style,  with  all  the 
luxury  of  ornament  that  had  prevailed  among  the  Gothic, 
Spaniards  at  the  time  of  the  Arabian  conquest.  Pearls  of 
dazzling  whiteness  were  entwined  with  her  raven  tresses ;  and 
jewels  sparkled  on  her  forehead,  rivalling  the  lustre  of  her 
eyes.  Around  her  neck  was  a  golden  chain,  to  which  was 
suspended  a  silver  lyre  which  hung  by  her  side. 

The  flashes  of  her  dark  refulgent  eye  were  like  sparks  of  fire 
on  the  withered,  yet  combustible  breast  of  Aben  Habuz,  and 
set  it  in  a  flame.  The  swimming  voluptuousness  of  her  gait 
made  his  senses  reel.  "Fairest  of  women,"  cried  he,  with 
rapture,  "  who  and  what  art  thou?"- 

' '  The  daughter  of  one  of  the  Gothic  princes  who  lately  ruled 
over  this  land.  The  armies  of  my  father  have  been  destroyed 
as  if  by  magic  among  these  mountains,  he  has  been  driven  into 
exile,  and  his  daughter  is  a  slave." 

"Be  comforted,  beautiful  princess— thou  art  no  longer  a 
slave,  but  a  sovereign ;  turn  thine  eyes  graciously  upon  Aben 
Habuz,  and  reign  over  him  and  his  dominions." 

"Beware,  O  king,"  whispered  Ibrahim  Ebn  Abu  Ayub; 
'  *  this  may  be  some  spirit  conjured  up  by  the  magicians  of  the 
Goths,  and  sent  for  thy  undoing.  Or  it  may  be  one  of  those 
northern  sorceresses,  who  assume  the  most  seducing  forms  to 
beguile  the  unwary.  Methinks  I  read  witchcraft  in  her  eye, 
and  sorcery  in  every  movement.  Let  my  sovereign  beware — 
this  must  be  the  enemy  pointed  out  by  the  talisman. "  "Son 
of  Abu  Ayub,"  replied  the  king,  "  you  are  a  wise  man  and  a 
conjuror,  I  grant— but  you  are  little  versed  in  the  ways  of 
woman.  In  the  knowledge  of  the  sex,  I  will  yield  to  no  man ; 
no,  not  to  the  wise  Solomon  himself,  notwithstanding  the 
number  of  his  wives  and  his  concubines.  As  to  this  damsel, 
'I  see  much  comfort  in  her  for  my  old  days,  even  such  comfort 
as  David,  the  father  of  Solomon,  found  in  the  society  of 
Abishag  the  Shunamite." 

"  Hearken,  O  king,"  rejoined  the  astrologer,  suddenly  chang 
ing  his  tone— "I  have  given  thee  many  triumphs  over  thy 
enemies,  and  by  means  of  my  talisman,  yet  thou  hast  never 
given  me  share  of  the  spoils ;  grant  me  this  one  stray  captive 
to  solace  me  in  my  retirement,  and  I  am  content. " 

!"  cried  Aben  Habuz,  "more  women!  hast  thou  not 


THE  LEGEND   OF  THE  ARABIAN  ASTROLOGER.      83 

already  dancing  women  to  solace  thee  —  what  more  wouldst 
thou  desire." 

"Dancing  women,  have  I,  it  is  true;  but  I  have  none  that 
sing;  and  music  is  a  balm  to  old  age. — This  captive,  I  perceive, 
beareth  a  silver  lyre,  and  must  be  skilled  in  minstrelsy.  Give 
her  to  me,  I  pray  thee,  to  soothe  my  senses  after  the  toil  of 
study." 

The  ire  of  the  pacific  monarch  was  kindled,  and  he  loaded 
the  philosopher  with  reproaches.  The  latter  retired  indig 
nantly  to  his  hermitage;  but  ere  he  departed,  he  again 
warned  the  monarch  to  beware  of  his  beautiful  captive. 
Where,  in  fact,  is  the  old  man  in  love  that  will  listen  to  coun 
sel?  Aben  Habuz  had  felt  the  fuirpower  of  the  witchery  of 
the  eye,  and  the  sorcery  of  movement,  and  the  more  he  gazed, 
the  more  he  was  enamoured. 

He  resigned  himself  to  the  full  sway  of  his  passions.  His 
only  study,  was  how  to  render  himself  amiable  in  the  eyes  of 
the  Gothic  beauty.  He  had  not  youth,  it  is  true,  to  recom 
mend  him,  but  then  he  had  riches ;  and  when  a  lover  is  no 
longer  young,  he  becomes  generous.  The  Zacatin  of  Granada 
was  ransacked  for  the  most  precious  merchandise  of  the  East. 
Silks,  jewels,  precious  gems  and  exquisite  perfumes,  all  that 
Asia  and  Africa  yielded  of  rich  and  rare,  were  lavished  upon 
the  princess.  She  received  all  as  her  due,  and  regarded  them 
with  the  indifference  of  one  accustomed  to  magnificence.  All 
kinds  of  spectacles  and  festivities  were  devised  for  her  enter 
tainment;  minstrelsy,  dancing,  tournaments,  bull-fights.— 
Granada,  for  a  time,  was  a  scene  of  perpetual  pageant.  The 
Gothic  princess  seemed  to  take  a  delight  in  causing  expense, 
as  if  she  sought  to  drain  the  treasures  of  the  monarch.  There 
were  no  bounds  to  her  caprice,  or  to  the  extravagance  of  her 
ideas.  Yet,  notwithstanding  all  this  munificence,  the  vener 
able  Aben  Habuz  could  not  flatter  himself  that  he  had  made 
any  impression  on  her  heart.  She  never  frowned  on  him,  it  is 
true,  but  she  had  a  singular  way  of  baffling  his  tender  ad 
vances.  \7henever  he  began  to  plead  his  passion,  she  struck 
her  silver  lyre.  There  was  a  mystic  charm  in  the  sound :  on 
hearing  of  it,  an  irresistible  drowsiness  seized  upon  the  super 
annuated  lover,  he  fell  asleep,  and  only  woke  when  the  tempo 
rary  fumes  of  passion  had  evaporated.  Still  the  dream  of  love 
had  a  bewitching  power  over  his  senses ;  so  he  continued  to 
dream  on ;  while  all  Granada  scoffed  at  his  infatuation,  and 
groaned  at  the  treasures  lavished  for  a  song. 


84  THE  ALHAhXRA. 

At  length  a  danger  burst  over  the  head  of  Aben  Habuz, 
against  which  his  talisman  yielded  him  no  warning.  A  re 
bellion  broke  out  in  the  very  heart  of  his  capital,  headed  by 
the  bold  Rodovan.  Aben  Habuz  was,  for  a  time,  besieged  in 
his  palace,  and  it  was  not  without  the  greatest  difficulty  that 
he  repelled  his  assailants  and  quelled  the  insurrection. 

He  now  felt  himself  compelled  once  more  to  resort  to  the 
assistance  of  the  astrologer.  He  found  him  still  shut  up  in  his 
hermitage,  chewing  the  cud  of  resentment.  "O  wise  son  o'2 
Abu  Ayub,"  said  he,  "what  thou  hast  foretold,  has,  in  some 
sort,  oome  to  pass.  This  Gothic  princess  has  brought  trouble 
and  danger  upon  me." 

"  Is  the  king  then  disposed  to  put  her  away  from  him?"  said 
the  astrologer  with  animation. 

"Sooner  would  I  part  with  my  kingdom!"  replied  Aben 
Habuz. 

"  What  then  is  the  need  of  disturbing  me  in  my  philosoph 
ical  retirement?"  said  the  astrologer,  peevishly. 

' '  Be  not  an^ry,  O  sagest  of  philosophers.  I  would  fain  have 
one  more  exertion  of  thy  magic  art.  Devise  some  means  by 
which  I  may  be  secure  from  internal  treason,  as  well  as  out 
ward  war— some  safe  retreat,  where  I  may  take  refuge  and  be 
at  peace." 

The  astrologer  ruminated  for  a  moment,  and  a  subtle  gleam 
shone  from  his  eye  under  his  busy  eyebrows. 

"Thou  hast  heard,  no  doubt,  O  king,"  said  he,  "of  the 
palace  and  garden  of  Irem,  whereof  mention  is  made  in  that 
chapter  of  the  Koran  entitled  '  the  dawn  of  day.'  " 

"I  have  heard  of  that  garden, — marvellous  things  are 
related  of  it  by  the  pilgrims  who  visit  Mecca,  but  I  have 
thought  them  wild  fables,  such  as  those  are  prone  to  tell  who 
visit  remote  regions." 

' '  Listen,  O  king,  and  thou  shalt  know  the  mystery  of  that 
garden.  In  my  younger  days  I  was  in  Arabia  the  Happy, 
tending  my  father's  camels.  One  of  them  strayed  away  from 
the  rest,  and  was  lost.  I  searched  for  it  for  several  days  about 
the  deserts  of  Aden,  until  wearied  and  faint,  I  laid  myself 
down  and  slept  under  a  palm  tree  by  the  side  of  a  scanty  well. 
When  I  awoke,  I  found  myself  at  the  gate  of  a  city.  I  entered 
and  beheld  noble  streets  and  squares  and  market  places,  but 
all  were  silent  and  without  an  inhabitant.  I  wandered  on 
until  I  came  to  a  sumptuous  palace,  with  a  garden  adorned 
with  fountains  and  fish-ponds;  and  groves  and  flowers;  and 


THE  LEGEND   OF  THE  ARABIAN  ASTROLOGER.      §5 

orchards  laden  with  delicious  fruit;  but  still  no  one  was  to  be 
seen.  TTnon  which,  appalled  at  this  loneliness,  I  hastened  to 
depart,  and,  after  issuing  forth  at  the  gate  of  the  city,  I  turned 
to  look  upon  the  place,  but  it  was  no  longer  to  be  seen,  nothing 
but  the  silent  desert  extended  before  my  eyes. 

' '  In  the  neighbourhood  I  met  with  an  aged  dervise,  learned 
in  the  traditions  and  secrets  of  the  land,  and  related  to  him 
what  had  befallen  me.  '  This, '  said  he,  '  is  the  far-famed  gar 
den  of  Irem,  one  of  the  wonders  of  the  desert.  It  only  appears 
at  times  to  some  wanderer  like  thyself,  gladdening  him  with 
the  sight  of  towers  and  palaces,  and  garden  walls  overhung 
with  richly  laden  fruit  trees,  and  then  vanishes,  leaving 
nothing  but  a  lonely  desert.— And  this  is  the  story  of  it:— In 
old  times,  when  this  country  was  inhabited  by  the  Addiles, 
king  Sheddad,  the  son  of  Ad,  the  great  grandson  of  Noah, 
founded  here  a  splendid  city.  When  it  was  finished,  and  he 
saw  its  grandeur,  his  heart  was  puffed  up  with  pride  and  arro 
gance,  and  he  determined  to  build  a  royal  palace,  with  gardens 
that  should  rival  all  that  was  related  in  the  Koran  of  the  celes 
tial  paradise.  But  the  Curse  of  heaven  fell  upon  him  for  his 
presumption.  He  and  his  subjects  were  swept  from  the  earth, 
and  his  splendid  city,  and  palace,  and  garden,  were  laid  under 
a  perpetual  spell,  that  hides  them  from  the  human  sight,  ex 
cepting  that  they  are  seen  at  intervals ;  by  way  of  keeping  his 
sin  in  perpetual  remembrance.' 

"This  story,  O  king,  and  the  wonders  I  had  seen,  ever  dwell 
in  my  mind,  and,  in  after  years,  when  I  had  been  in  Egypt 
and  made  myself  master  of  all  kinds  of  magic  spells,  I  deter 
mined  to  return  and  visit  the  garden  of  Irem.  I  did  so,  and 
found  it  revealed  to  my  instructed  sight.  I  took  possession  of 
the  palace  of  Sheddad,  and  passed  several  days  in  his  mock 
paradise.  The  genii  who  watch  over  the  place,  were  obedient 
to  my  magic  power,  and  revealed  to  me  the  spells  by  which 
the  whole  garden  had  been,  as  it  were,  conjured  into  existence, 
and  by  which  it  was  rendered  invisible.  Such  spells,  0  king, 
are  within  the  scope  of  my  art.  What  sayest  thou?  Wouldst 
them  have  a  palace  and  garden  like  those  of  Irem,  filled  with 
all  manner  of  delights,  but  hidden  from  the  eyes  of  mortals?" 

"  O  wise  son  of  Abu  Ayub,"  exclaimed  Aben  Habuz,  trem 
bling  with  eagerness — "  Contrive  me  such  a  paradise,  and  ask 
any  reward,  even  to  the  half  of  my  kingdom." 

"Alas,"  replied  the  other,  "  thou  knowest  I  am  an  old  man, 
and  a  philosopher,  and  easily  satisfied ;  all  the  reward  I  ask,  is 


86  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

the  first  beast  of  burden,  with  its  load,  that  shall  enter  the 
magic  portal  of  the  palace." 

The  monarch  gladly  agreed  to  so  moderate  a  stipulation,  and 
the  astrologer  began  his  work.  On  the  summit  of  the  hill  im 
mediately  above  his  subterranean  hermitage  he  caused  a  great 
gateway  or  barbican  to  be  erected ;  opening  through  the  centre 
of  a  strong  tower.  There  was  an  outer  vestibule  or  porch  with 
a  lofty  arch,  and  within  it  a  portal  secured  by  massive  gates. 
On  the  key-stone  of  the  portal  the  astrologer,  with  his  own 
hand,  wrought  the  figure  of  a  huge  key,  and  on  the  key-stone 
of  the  outer  arch  of  the  vestibule,  which  was  loftier  than  that 
of  the  portal,  he  carved  a  gigantic  hand.  These  were  potent 
talismans,  over  which  he  repeated  many  sentences  in  an  un 
known  tongue. 

When  this  gateway  was  finished,  he  shut  himself  up  for  two 
days  in  his  astrological  hall,  engaged  in  secret  incantations; 
on  the  third  he  ascended  the  hill,  and  passed  the  whole  day  on 
its  summit.  At  a  late  hour  of  the  night,  he  came  down  and 
presented  himself  before  Aben  Habuz.  u  At  length,  O  king," 
said  he,  ' '  my  labour  is  accomplished.  On  the  summit  of  the 
hill  stands  one  of  the  most  delectable  palaces  that  ever  the 
head  of  man  devised,  or  the  heart  of  man  desired.  It  contains 
sumptuous  halls  and  galleries,  delicious  gardens,  cool  fountains 
and  fragrant  baths;  in  a  word,  the  whole  mountain  is  con 
verted  into  a  paradise.  Like  the  garden  of  Irem,  it  is  pro 
tected  by  a  mighty  charm,  which  hides  it  from  the  view  and 
search  of  mortals,  excepting  such  as  possess  the  secret  of  its 
talismans. " 

"Enough,"  cried  Aben  Habuz,  joyfully;  " to-morrow  morn 
ing,  bright  and  early,  we  will  ascend  and  take  possession." 
The  happy  monarch  scarcely  slept  that  night.  Scarcely  had 
the  rays  of  the  sun  begun  to  play  about  the  snowy  summit  of 
the  Sierra  Nevada,  when  he  mounted  his  steed,  and  accom 
panied  only  by  a  few  chosen  attendants,  ascended  a  steep  and 
narrow  road  leading  up  the  hill.  Beside  him  on  a  white  pal 
frey,  rode  the  Gothic  princess,  her  dress  sparkling  with  jewels, 
while  round  her  neck  was  suspended  her  silver  lyre.  The 
astrologer  walked  on  the  other  side  of  the  king,  assisting  his 
steps  with  his  hieroglyphic  staff,  for  he  never  mounted  steed  of 
any  kind. 

Aben  Habuz  looked  to  see  the  towers  of  the  promised  palace 
brightening  above  him,  and  the  embowered  terraces  of  its  gar 
dens  stretching  along  the  heights,  but  as  yet,  nothing  p*  the 


THE  LEGEND  OF  THE  ARABIAN  ASTROLOGER.   87 

land  was  to  be  descried.  "  That  is  the  mystery  and  safeguard 
of  the  place,"  said  the  astrologer,  "nothing  can  be  discerned 
until  you  have  passed  the  spell-bound  gateway,  and  been  put 
in  possession  of  the  place.'' 

As  they  approached  the  gateway,  the  astrologer  paused,  and 
pointed  out  to  the  king  the  mystic  hand  and  key  carved  upon 
the  portal  and  the  arch.  ' '  These, "  said  he,  ' '  are  the  talismans 
which  guard  the  entrance  to  this  paradise.  Until  yonder  hand 
shall  reach  down  and  seize  that  key,  neither  mortal  power,  nor 
magic  artifice,  can  prevail  against  the  lord  of  this  mountain." 

While  Aben  Habuz  was  gazing  with  open  mouth  and  silent- 
wonder  at  these  mystic  talismans,  the  palfrey  of  the  princess 
proceeded  on,  and  bore  her  in  at  the  portal,  to  the  very  centre 
of  the  barbican. 

"Behold,"  cried  the  astrologer,  "  my  promised  reward! -the 
first  animal  with  its  burden,  that  should  enter  the  magic  gate 
way." 

Aben  Habuz  smiled  at  what  he  considered  a  pleasantry  of 
the  ancient  man ;  but  when  he  found  him  to  be  in  earnest,  his 
gray  beard  trembled  with  indignation. 

"Son  of  Abu  Ayub,"  said  he,  sternly,  "  what  equivocation  is 
this?  Thou  knowest  the  meaning  of  my  promise,  the  first 
beast  of  burden,  with  its  load,  that  should  enter  this  portal. 
Take  the  strongest  mule  in  my  stables,  load  it  with  the  most 
precious  things  of  my  treasury,  and  it  is  thine ;  but  dare  not  to 
raise  thy  thoughts  to  her,  who  is  the  delight  of  my  heart." 

"What  need  I  of  wealth,"  cried  the  astrologer,  scornfully: 
"have  I  not  the  book  of  knowledge  of  Solomon  the  Wise, 
and  through  it,  the  command  of  the  secret  treasures  of  the 
earth?  The  princess  is  mine  by  right;  thy  royal  word  is 
pledged ;  I  claim  her  as  my  own." 

The  princess  sat  upon  her  palfrey,  in  the  pride  of  youth 
and  beauty,  and  a  light  smile  of  scorn  curled  her  rosy  lip,  at 
this  dispute  between  two  gray  beards  for  her  charms.  The 
wrath  of  the  monarch  got  the  better  of  his  discretion.  "Base 
son  of  the  desert,"  cried  he,  "  thou  mayest  be  master  of  many 
arts,  but  know  me  for  thy  master — and  presume  not  to  juggle 
witli  Miy  king." 

"  My  master !"  echoed  the  astrologer,  ' '  my  ting !  The  mon 
arch  of  a  mole-hill  to  claim  sway  over  him  who  possesses  the 
talismans  of  Solomon.  Farewell,  Aben  Habuz;  reign  over  thy 
petty  kingdom,  and  revel  in  thy  paradise  of  fools— for  me,  I 
will  laugh  at  thee  in  my  philosophic  retirement." 


88  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

So  saying,  he  seized  the  bridle  of  the  palfrey,  smote  the 
earth  with  his  staff,  and  sank  with  the  Gothic  princess  through 
the  centre  of  the  barbican.  The  earth  closed  over  them,  and 
no  trace  remained  of  the  opening  by  which  they  had  descended. 
Aben  Habuz  was  struck  dumb  for  a  time  with  astonishment. 
Recovering  himself  he  ordered  a  thousand  workmen  to  dig 
with  pickaxe  and  spade  into  the  ground  where  the  astrologer 
had  di  appeared.  They  digged  and  digged,  but  in  vain;  the 
flinty  bosom  of  the  hill  resisted  their  implements ;  or  if  they 
did  penetrate  a  little  way,  the  earth  filled  in  again  as  fast  as 
they  threw  it  out.  Aben  Habuz  sought  the  mouth  of  the  cav 
ern  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  leading  to  the  subterranean  palace 
of  the  astrologer,  but  it  was  no  where  to  be  found :  where  once 
had  been  an  entrance,  was  now  a  solid  surface  of  primeval 
rock.  With  the  disappearance  of  Ibrahim  Ebn  Abu  Ayub 
ceased  the  benefit  of  his  talismans.  The  bronze  horseman  re 
mained  fixed  with  his  face  turned  toward  the  hill,  and  his  spear 
pointed  to  the  spot  where  the  astrologer  had  descended,  as 
if  there  still  lurked  the  deadliest  foe  of  Aben  Habuz.  From 
time  to  time  the  sound  of  music  and  the  tones  of  a  female  voice 
could  be  faintly  heard  from  the  bosom  of  the  hill,  and  a  peasant 
one  day  brought  word  to  the  king,  that  in  the  preceding  night 
he  had  found  a  fissure  in  the  rock,  by  which  he  had  crept  in 
until  he  looked  down  into  a  subterranean  hall,  in  which  sat 
the  astrologer  on  a  magnificent  divan,  slumbering  and  nodding 
to  the  silver  lyre  of  the  princess,  which  seemed  to  hold  a  magic 
sway  over  his  senses. 

Aben  Habuz  sought  tor  the  fissure  in  the  rock,  but  it  was 
again  closed.  He  renewed  the  attempt  to  unearth  his  rival, 
bwt  all  in  vain.  The  spell  of  the  hand  and  key  was  too  potent 
to  be  counteracted  by  human  power.  As  to  the  summit  of  the 
mountain,  the  site  of  the  promised  palace  and  garden,  it  re- 
mained  a  naked  waste :  either  the  boasted  Elysium  was  hidden 
from  sight  by  enchantment,  or  was  a  mere  fable  of  the  astrolo 
ger.  The  world  charitably  supposed  the  latter,  and  some  used 
to  call  the  place  "the  king's  folly,"  while  others  named  it  "  the 
fool's  Paradise." 

To  add  to  the  chagrin  of  Aben  Habuz,  the  neighbours,  whom 
he  had  defied  ana  taunted,  and  cut  up  at  his  leisure,  while 
master  of  the  talismanic  horeeman,  finding  him  no  longer  pro 
tected  by  magic  spell,  made  inroads  into  his  territories  from 
all  sides,  and  the  remainder  of  the  life  of  the  most  pacific  of 
monarchs,  was  a  tissue  of  turmoils 


LEGEND   OF  THE  THREE  BEAUTIFUL  PRINCESSES.     8(J 

At  length,  Aben  Habuz  died  and  was  buried.  Ages  have 
since  rolled  away.  The  Alhambra  has  been  built  on  the  event 
ful  mountain,  and  in  some  measure  realizes  the  fabled  delights 
of  the  garden  of  Irem.  The  spell-bound  gateway  still  exists, 
protected,  no  doubt,  by  the  mystic  hand  and  key,  and  now 
forms  the  gate  of  justice,  the  grand  entrance  to  the  fortress. 
Under  that  gateway,  it  is  said,  the  old  astrologer  remains  in 
his  subterranean  hall ;  nodding  on  his  divan,  lulled  by  the  sil 
VQY  lyre  of  the  princess. 

The  old  invalid  sentinels,  who  mount  guard  at  the  gate,  hear 
the  strains  occasionally  in  the  summer  nights,  and,  yielding  to 
their  soporific  power,  doze  quietly  at  their  posts.  Nay,  so 
drowsy  an  influence  pervades  the  place,  that  even  those  who 
watch  by  day,  may  generally  be  seen  nodding  on  the  stone 
benches  of  the  barbican,  or  sleeping  under  the  neighbouring 
trees ;  so  that  it  is,  in  fact,  the  drowsiest  military  post  in  all 
Christendom.  All  this,  say  the  legends,  will  endure;  from 
age  to  age  the  princess  will  remain  captive  to  the  astrologer, 
and  the  astrologer  bound  up  in  magic  slumber  by  the  princess, 
until  the  last  day ;  unless  the  mystic  hand  shall  grasp  the  fated 
key,  and  dispel  the  whole  charm  of  this  enchanted  mountain. 


LEGEND    OF   THE   THREE   BEAUTIFUL   PRINCESSES. 

IN  old  times  there  reigned  a  Moorish  king  in  Granada,  whose 
name  was  Mohamed,  to  which  his  subjects  added  the  appella 
tion  of  el  Haygari,  or  "  the  left-handed."  Some  say  he  was  so 
called,  on  account  of  his  being  really  more  expert  with  his  sin 
ister,  than  his  dexter  hand;  others,  because  he  was  prone  to 
take  everything  by  the  wrong  end ;  or,  in  other  words,  to  mar 
wherever  he  meddled.  Certain  it  is,  either  through  misfortune 
or  mismanagement,  he  was  continually  in  trouble.  Thrice  was 
he  driven  from  his  throne,  and  on  one  occasion  barely  escaped 
to  Africa  with  his  life,  in  the  disguise  of  a  fisherman.  Still  he 
was  as  brave  as  he  was  blundering,  and,  though  left-handed, 
wielded  his  scimitar  to  such  purpose,  that  he  each  time  re 
established  himself  upon  his  throne,  by  dint  of  hard  fighting. 
Instead,  however,  of  learning  wisdom  from  adversity,  he 
hardened  his  neck,  and  stiffened  his  left-arm  in  wilfulness. 
The  evils  of  a  public  nature  which  he  thus  brought  upon  him 


90  THE  ALIIAMBRA. 

self  and  his  kingdom,  may  be  learned  by  those  who  will  delve 
into  the  Arabian  annals  of  Granada;  the  present  legend  deals 
but  with  his  domestic  policy. 

As  this  Mohamed  was  one  day  riding  forth,  with  a  train  of 
his  courtiers,  by  the  foot  of  the  mountain  of  Elvira,  he  met  a 
band  of  horsemen  returning  from  a  foray  into  the  land  of  the 
Christians.  They  were  conducting  a  long  string  of  mules  laden 
with  spoil,  and  many  captives  of  both  sexes,  among  whom,  the 
monarch  was  struck  with  the  appearaoce  of  a  beautiful  damsel 
richly  attired,  who  sat  weeping,  on  a  low  palfrey,  and  heeded 
not  the  consoling  words  of  a  duenna,  who  rode  beside  her. 

The  monarch  was  struck  with  her  beauty,  and  on  inquiring 
of  the  captain  of  the  troop,  found  that  she  was  the  daughter  of 
the  alcayde  of  a  frontier  fortress  that  had  been  surprised  and 
sacked  in  the  course  of  the  foray. 

Mohamed  claimed  her  as  his  royal  share  of  the  booty,  and 
had  her  conveyed  to  his  harem  in  the  Alhambra.  There  every 
thing  was  devised  to  soothe  her  melancholy,  and  the  monarch, 
more  and  more  enamoured,  sought  to  make  her  his  queen. 

The  Spanish  maid  at  first  repulsed  his  addresses.  He  was 
an  infidel — he  jwas  the  open  foe  of  her  country—  what  was 
worse,  he  was  stricken  in  years ! 

The  monarch  finding  his  assiduities  of  no  avail,  determined 
to  enlist  in  his  favour  the  duenna,  who  had  been  captured  with 
the  lady.  She  was  an  Andalusian  by  birth,  whose  Christian 
name  is  forgotten,  being  mentioned  in  Moorish  legends,  by  no 
other  appellation  than  that  of  the  discreet  Cadiga— and  dis 
creet,  in  truth  she  was,  as  her  whole  history  makes  evident. 
No  sooner  had  the  Moorish  king  held  a  little  private  conversa 
tion  with  her,  than  she  saw  at  once  the  cogency  of  his  reason 
ing,  and  undertook  his  cause  with  her  young  mistress. 

"  Go  to,  now !"  cried  she ;  "  what  is  there  in  all  this  to  weep 
and  wail  about?— Is  it  not  better  to  be  mistress  of  this  beautiful 
palace  with  all  its  gardens  and  fountains,  than  to  be  shut  up 
within  your  father's  old  frontier  tower?  As  to  this  Mohamed 
being  an  infidel— what  is  that  to  the  purpose?  You  marry  him 
— not  his  religion.  And  if  he  is  waxing  a  little  old,  the  sooner 
will  you  be  a  widow  and  mistress  of  yourself.  At  any  rate  you 
are  in  his  power — and  must  either  be  a  queen  or  a  slave. — 
When  in  the  hands  of  a  robber,  it  is  better  to  sell  one's  mer- 
chandies  for  a  fair  price,  than  to  have  it  taken  by  main  force. " 

The  arguments  of  the  discreet  Cadiga  prevailed.  The  Span 
ish  lady  dried  her  tears  and  became  the  spouse  of  Mohamed 


LEGEND   OP  THE  TIIEEK  BEAUTIFUL  PRINCESSES.     91 

the  left-handed.  She  even  conformed  in  appearance  to  the 
faith  of  her  royal  husband,  and  her  discreet  duenna  immedi 
ately  became  a  zealous  convert  to  the  Moslem  doctrines;  it 
was  then  the  latter  received  the  Arabian  name  of  Cadiga,  and 
was  permitted  to  remain  in  the  confidential  employ  of  her 
mistress. 

In  due  process  of  time,  the  Moorish  king  was  made  the 
proud  and  happy  father  of  three  lovely  daughters,  all  born  at 
a  birth.  He  could  have  wished  they  had  been  sons,  but  con 
soled  himself  with  the  idea  that  three  daughters  at  a  birth, 
were  pretty  well  for  a  man  somewhat  stricken  in  years,  and 
left-handed. 

As  usual  with  all  Moslem  monarchs,  he  summoned  his 
astrologers  on  this  happy  event.  They  cast  the  nativities  of 
the  three  princesses,  and  shook  their  heads.  "Daughters, 
O  king,"  said  they,  "are  always  precarious  property;  but 
these  will  most  need  your  watchfulness  when  they  arrive  at  a 
marriageable  age. — At  that  time  gather  them  under  your 
wing,  and  trust  them  to  no  other  guardianship." 

Mohamed  the  left-handed  was  acknowledged  by  his  courtiers 
to  be  a  wise  king,  and  was  certainly  so  considered  by  himself. 
The  prediction  of  the  astrologers  caused  him  but  little  disquiet, 
trusting  to  his  ingenuity  to  guard  his  daughters  and  outwit 
the  fates. 

The  threefold  birth  was  the  last  matrimonial  trophy  of  the 
monarch;  his  queen  bore  him  no  more  children,  and  died 
within  a  few  years,  bequeathing  her  infant  daughters  to  his 
love,  and  to  the  fidelity  of  the  discreet  Cadiga. 

Many  years  had  yet  to  elapse  before  the  princesses  would 
arrive  at  that  period  of  danger,  the  marriageable  age.  "It  is 
good,  however,  to  be  cautious  in  time,"  said  the  shrewd  mon 
arch;  so  he  determined  to  have  them  reared  in  the  royal  castle 
of  Salobreiia.  This  was  a  sumptuous  palace,  incrusted  as  it 
were  in  a  powerful  Moorish  fortress,  on  the  summit  of  a  hill 
that  overlooks  the  Mediterranean  sea. 

It  was  a  royal  retreat,  in  which  the  Moslem  monarchs  shut 
up  such  of  their  relations  as  might  endanger  their  safety; 
allowing  them  all  kinds  of  luxuries  and  amusements,  in  the 
midst  of  which  they  passed  their  lives  in  voluptuous  indolence. 

Here  the  princesses  remained,  immured  from  the  world,  but 
surrounded  by  enjoyments;  and  attended  by  female  slaves 
who  anticipated  their  wishes.  They  had  delightful  gardens 
for  their  recreation,  filled  with  the  rarest  fruits  and  flowers, 


92  THE  ALIIAMBRA. 

with  aromatic  groves  and  perfumed  baths.  On  three  sides  the 
castle  looked  down  upon  a  rich  valley,  enamelled  with  all 
kinds  of  culture,  and  bounded  by  the  lofty  Alpuxarra  moun 
tains  ;  on  the  other  side  it  overlooked  the  broad  sunny  sea. 

In  this  delicious  abode,  in  a  propitious  climate  and  under 
a  cloudless  sky,  the  three  princesses  grew  up  into  wondrous 
beauty;  but,  though  all  reared  alike,  they  gave  early  tokens 
of  diversity  of  character.  Their  names  were  Zayda,  Zorayda, 
and  Zorahayda;  and  such  was  the  order  of  seniority,  for  there 
had  been  precisely  three  minutes  between  their  births. 

Zayda,  the  eldest,  was  of  an  intrepid  spirit,  and  took  the 
lead  of  her  sisters  in  every  thing,  as  she  had  done  in  entering 
first  into  the  world.  She  was  curious  and  inquisitive,  and 
fond  of  getting  at  the  bottom  of  things. 

Zorayda  had  a  great  feeling  for  beauty,  which  was  the 
reason,  no  doubt,  of  her  delighting  to  regard  her  own  image 
in  a  mirror  or  a  fountain,  and  of  her  fondness  for  flowers  and 
jewels,  and  other  tasteful  ornaments. 

As  to  Zorahayda,  the  youngest,  she  was  soft  and  timid,  and 
extremely  sensitive,  with  a  vast  deal  of  disposable  tenderness, 
as  was  evident  from  her  number  of  pet  flowers,  and  pet  birds, 
and  pet  animals,  all  of  which  she  cherished  with  the  fondest 
care.  Her  amusements,  too,  were  of  a  gentle  nature,  and 
mixed  up  with  musing  and  reverie.  She  would  sit  for  hours 
in  a  balcony  gazing  on  the ,  sparkling  stars  of  a  summer  night; 
or  on  the  sea  when  lit  up  by  the  moon,  and  at  such  times  the 
song  of  a  fisherman  faintly  heard  from  the  beach,  or  the  notes 
of  an  arrafia  or  Moorish  flute  from  some  gliding  bark,  sufficed 
to  elevate  her  feelings  into  ecstasy.  The  least  uproar  of  the 
elements,  however,  filled  her  with  dismay,  and  a  clap  of  thun 
der  was  enough  to  throw  her  into  a  swoon. 

Years  moved  on  serenely,  and  Cadiga,  to  whom  the  prin 
cesses  were  confided,  was  faithful  to  her  trust  and  attended 
them  with  unremitting  care. 

The  castle  of  Salobrena,  as  has  been  said,  was  built  upon  a 
hill  on  the  sea  coast.  One  of  the  exterior  walls  straggled  down 
the  profile  of  the  hill,  until  it  reached  a  jutting  rock  overhang 
ing  the  sea,  with  a  narrow  sandy  beach  at  its  foot,  laved  by 
the  rippling  billows.  A  small  watch  tower  on  this  rock  had 
been  fitted  up  as  a  pavilion,  with  latticed  windows  to  admit 
the  sea  breeze.  Here  the  princesses  used  to  pass  the  sultry 
hours  of  mid-day. 

The  curious  Zayda  was  one  day  seated  at  one  of  the  windows 


LEGEND  OF  THE  THREE  BEAUTIFUL  PRINCESSES.     93 

of  the  pavilion,  as  her  sisters,  reclined  on  ottomans,  were  tak 
ing  the  siesta,  or  noon-tide  slumber.  Her  attention  had  been 
attracted  to  a  galley,  which  came  coasting  along,  with  meas 
ured  strokes  of  the  oar.  As  it  drew  near,  she  observed  that  it 
was  filled  with  armed  men.  The  galley  anchored  at  the  foot 
of  the  tower :  a  number  of  Moorish  soldiers  landed  on  the  nar 
row  beach,  conducting  several  Christian  prisoners.  The  curi 
ous  Zayda  awakened  her  sisters,  and  all  three  peeped  cau 
tiously  through  the  close  jalousies  of  the  lattice,  which 
screened  them  from  sight.  Among  the  prisoners  were  three 
Spanish  cavaliers,  richly  dressed.  They  were  in  the  flower  of 
youth,  and  of  noble  presence,  and  the  lofty  manner  in  which 
they  carried  themselves,  though  loaded  with  chains  and  sur 
rounded  with  enemies,  bespoke  the  grandeur  of  their  souls. 
The  princesses  gazed  with  intense  and  breathless  interest. 
Cooped  up  as  they  had  been  in  this  castle  among  female  at 
tendants,  seeing  nothing  of  the  male  sex  but  black  slaves,  or 
the  rude  fishermen  of  the  sea  coast,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered 
at,  that  the  appearance  of  three  gallant  cavaliers  in  the  pride 
of  youth  and  manly  beauty  should  produce  some  commotion 
in  their  bosoms. 

"  Did  ever  nobler  being  tread  the  earth,  than  that  cavalier  in 
crimson?"  cried  Zayda,  the  eldest  of  the  sisters.  "See  how 
proudly  he  bears  himself,  as  though  all  around  him  were  hir 
slaves !" 

"But  notice  that  one  in  green,"  exclaimed  Zorayda;  "what 
grace !  what  elegance !  what  spirit !" 

The  gentle  Zorahayda  said  nothing,  but  she  secretly  gave 
preference  to  the  cavalier  in  green. 

The  princesses  remained  gazing  until  the  prisoners  were  out 
of  sight;  then  heaving  long-drawn  sighs,  they  turned  round, 
looked  at  each  other  for  a  moment,  and  sat  down  musing  and 
pensive  on  their  ottomans. 

The  discreet  Cadiga  found  them  in  this  situation;  they  re 
lated  to  her  what  they  had  seen,  and  even  the  withered  heart 
of  the  duenna  was  warmed.  "Poor  youths!"  exclaimed  she, 
"111  warrant  their  captivity  makes  many  a  fair  and  high-born 
lady's  heart  ache  in  their  native  land !  Ah,  my  children,  you 
have  little  idea  of  the  life  these  cavaliers  lead  in  their  own 
country.  Such  prankling  at  tournaments!  such  devotion  to 
the  ladies !  such  courting  and  serenading !" 

The  curiosity  of  Zayda  was  fully  aroused.  She  was  in- 
satiable  in  her  inquiries,  and  drew  from  the  duenna  the  most 


94  TEE  ALUANBEA. 

animated  pictures  of  the  scenes  of  her  youthful  days  and 
native  land.  The  beautiful  Zorayda  bridled  up,  and  slyly  re 
garded  herself  in  a  mirror,  when  the  theme  turned  upon  the 
charms  of  the  Spanish  ladies ;  while  Zorahayda  suppressed  a 
struggling  sigh  at  the  mention  of  moonlight  serenades. 

Every  day  the  curious  Zayda  renewed  her  inquiries;  and 
every  day  the  sage  duenna  repeated  her  stories,  which  were 
listened  to  with  unmoved  interest,  though  frequent  sighs,  by 
her  gentle  auditors.  The  discreet  old  woman  at  length  awak 
ened  to  the  mischief  she  might  be  doing.  She  had  been  ac 
customed  to  think  of  the  princesses  only  as  children,  but  they 
had  imperceptibly  ripened  beneath  her  eye,  and  now  bloomed 
before  her  three  lovely  damsels  of  the  marriageable  age. — It  is 
time,  thought  the  duenna,  to  give  notice  to  the  king. 

Mohamed  the  left-handed  was  seated  one  morning  on  a 
divan  in  one  of  the  court  halls  of  the  Alhambra,  when  a  noble 
arrived  from  the  fortress  of  Salobrena,  with  a  message  from 
the  sage  Cadiga,  congratulating  him  on  the  anniversary  of  his 
daughters'  birth-day.  The  slave  at  the  same  time  presented  a 
delicate  little  basket  decorated  with  flowers,  within  which,  on 
a  couch  of  vine  and  fig  leaves,  lay  a  peach,  an  apricot,  and  a 
nectarine,  with  their  bloom  and  down,  and  dewy  sweetness 
upon  them,  and  all  in  the  early  stage  of  tempting  ripeness. 
The  monarch  was  versed  in  the  oriental  language  of  fruits  and 
flowers,  and  readily  divined  the  meaning  of  this  emblematical 
offering. 

"So,"  said  he,  "the  critical  period  pointed  out  by  the  as 
trologers  is  arrived. — My  daughters  are  at  a  marriageable  age. 
What  is  to  be  done?  They  are  shut  up  from  the  eyes  of  men,— 
they  are  under  the  eye  of  the  discreet  Cadiga — all  very  good — 
but  still  they  are  not  under  my  own  eye,  as  was  prescribed  by 
the  astrologers.— 'I  must  gather  them  under  my  wing,  and 
trust  to  no  other  guardianship.'  " 

So  saying,  he  ordered  that  a  tower  of  the  Alhambra  should 
be  prepared  for  their  reception,  and  departed  at  the  head  of 
his  guards  for  the  fortress  of  Salobrefia,  to  conduct  them  home 
in  person. 

About  three  years  had  elapsed  since  Mohamed  had  beheld 
his  daughters,  and  he  could  scarcely  credit  his  eyes  at  the 
wonderful  change  which  that  small  space  of  time  had  made  in 
their  appearance.  During  the  interval  they  had  passed  that 
wondrous  boundary  line  in  female  life,  which  separates  the 
crude,  unformed,  and  thoughtless  girl  from  the  blooming, 


LEGEND  OF  THE  THREE  BEAUTIFUL  PRINCESSES.     95 

blushing,  meditative  woman.  It  is  like  passing  from  the  flat, 
bleak,  uninteresting  plains  of  La  Mancha  to  the  voluptuous 
valleys  and  swelling  hills  of  Andalusia. 

Zayda  was  tall  and  finely  formed,  with  a  lofty  demeanour 
and  a  penetrating  eye.  She  entered  with  a  stately  and  decided 
step,  and  made  a  profound  reverence  to  Mohamed,  treating 
him  more  as  her  sovereign  than  her  father.  Zorayda  was  of 
the  middle  height,  with  an  alluring  look  and  swimming  gait, 
and  a  sparkling  beauty  heightened  by  the  assistance  of  the 
toilette.  She  approached  her  father  with  a  smile,  kissed  his 
hand,  and  saluted  him  with  several  stanzas  from  a  popular 
Arabian  poet,  with  which  the  monarch  was  delighted.  Zora- 
hayda  was  shy  and  timid ;  smaller  than  her  sisters,  and  with 
a  beauty  of  that  tender,  beseeching  kind  which  looks  for  fond 
ness  and  protection.  She  was  little  fitted  to  command  like 
her  elder  sister,  or  to  dazzle  like  the  second ;  but  was  rather 
formed  to  creep  to  the  bosom  of  manly  affection,  to  nestle 
within  it,  and  be  content.  She  drew  near  her  father  with  a 
timid  and  almost  faltering  step,  and  would  have  taken  his 
hand  to  kiss,  but  on  looking  up  into  his  face,  and  seeing  it 
beaming  with  a  paternal  smile,  the  tenderness  of  her  nature 
broke  forth,  and  she  threw  herself  upon  his  neck. 

Mohamed,  the  left-handed,  surveyed  his  blooming  daughters 
with  mingled  pride  and  perplexity;  for  while  he  exulted  in 
their  charms,  he  bethought  himself  of  the  prediction  of  the 
astrologers.  "Three  daughters! — three  daughters !"  muttered 
he,  repeatedly  to  himself,  "and  all  of  a  marriageable  age! 
Here's  tempting  hesperian  fruit,  that  requires  a  dragon  watch !" 

He  prepared  for  his  return  to  Granada,  by  sending  heralds 
before  him,  commanding  every  one  to  keep  out  of  the  road  by 
which  he  was  to  pass,  and  that  all  doors  and  windows  should 
be  closed  at  the  approach  of  the  princesses.  This  done,  he  set 
forth  escorted  by  a  troop  of  black  horsemen  of  hideous  aspect, 
and  clad  hi  shining  armour. 

The  princesses  rode  beside  the  king,  closely  veiled,  on  beauti 
ful  white  palfreys,  with  velvet  caparisons  embroidered  with 
gold,  and  sweeping  the  ground ;  the  bits  and  stirrups  were  of 
gold,  and  the  silken  bridles  adorned  with  pearls  and  precious 
stones.  The  palfreys  were  covered  with  little  silver  bells  that 
made  the  most  musical  tinkling  as  they  ambled  gently  along. 
Wo  to  the  unlucky  wight,  however,  who  lingered  in  the  way 
when  he  heard  the  tinkling  of  these  bells— the  guards  were  or 
dered  to  cut  him  down  without  mercy. 


96  THE  ALIIAMBRA. 

The  cavalcade  was  drawing  near  to  Granada,  when  it  over* 
took,  on  the  banks  of  the  river  Xenil,  a  small  body  of  Moorish 
soldiers,  with  a  convoy  of  prisoners.  It  was  too  late  for  the 
soldiers  to  get  out  of  the  way,  so  they  threw  themselves  on 
their  faces  on  the  earth,  ordering  their  captives  to  do  the  like. 
Among  the  prisoners,  were  the  three  identical  cavaliers  whom 
the  princesses  had  seen  from  the  pavilion.  They  either  did 
not  understand,  or  were  too  haughty  to  obey  the  order,  and 
remained  standing  and  gazing  upon  the  cavalcade  as  it  ap 
proached. 

The  ire  of  the  monarch  was  kindled  at  this  flagrant  defiance 
of  his  orders,  and  he  determined  to  punish  it  with  his  own 
hand.  Drawing  his  scimitar  and  pressing  forward,  he  was 
about  to  deal  a  left-handed  blow,  that  would  have  been  fatal 
to  at  least  one  of  the  gazers,  when  the  princesses  crowded 
round  him,  and  implored  mercy  for  the  prisoners ;  even  the 
timid  Zorahayda  forgot  her  shyness  and  became  eloquent  in 
their  behalf.  Mohamed  paused,  with  uplifted  scimitar,  when 
the  captain  of  the  guard  threw  himself  at  his  feet.  "Let  not 
your  majesty,"  said  he,  "do  a  deed  that  may  cause  great 
scandal  throughout  the  kingdom.  These  are  three  brave  and 
noble  Spanish  knights  who  have  been  taken  in  battle,  fighting 
like  lions ;  they  are  of  high  birth,  and  may  bring  great  ran 
soms." 

"Enough,"  said  the  king;  "I  will  spare  their  lives,  but 
punish  their  audacity — let  them  be  taken  to  the  Vermilion 
towers  and  put  to  hard  labour." 

Mohamed  was  making  one  of  his  usual  left-handed  blunders. 
In  the  tumult  and  agitation  of  this  blustering  scene,  the  veils 
of  the  three  princesses  had  been  thrown  back,  and  the  radi 
ance  of  their  beauty  revealed ;  and  in  prolonging  the  parley, 
the  king  had  given  that  beauty  time  to  have  its  full  effect. 
In  those  days,  people  fell  in  love  much  more  suddenly  than 
at  present,  as  all  ancient  stories  make  manifest;  it  is  not 
a  matter  of  wonder,  therefore,  that  the  hearts  of  the  three 
cavaliers  were  completely  captivated;  especially  as  grati 
tude  was  added  to  their  admiration:  it  is  a  little  singular, 
however,  though  no  less  certain,  that  each  of  them  was 
enraptured  with  a  several  beauty.  As  to  the  princesses, 
they  were  more  than  ever  struck  with  the  noble  demeanour 
of  the  captives,  and  cherished  in  their  hearts  all  that  they 
had  heard  of  their  valour  and  noble  lineage. 

The   cavalcade    resumed  its  march;    the  three    princesses 


LEGEND  OF  THE  THREE  BEAUTIFUL  PRINCESSES.     97 

rode  pensively  along  on  their  tinkling  palfreys,  now  and 
then  stealing  a  glance  behind  in  search  of  the  Christian 
captives,  and  the  latter  were  conducted  to  their  allotted 
prison  in  the  Vermilion  towers. 

.  The  residence  provided  for  the  princesses,  was  one  of  the 
most  dainty  that  fancy  could  devise.  It  was  in  a  tower 
somewhat  apart  from  the  main  palace  of  the  Alhambra, 
though  connected  with  it  by  the  main  wall  that  encircled' 
the  whole  summit  of  the  hill.  On  one  side  it  looked  into 
the  interior  of  the  fortress,  and  had  at  its  foot  a  small  gar 
den  filled  with  the  rarest  flowers.  On  the  other  side  it  over 
looked  a  deep  embowered  ravine,  that  separated  the  grounds 
of  the  Alhambra  from  those  of  the  Generaliffe.  The  interior 
of  the  tower  was  divided  into  small  fairy  apartments,  beauti 
fully  ornamented  in  the  light  Arabian  style,  surrounding  a 
lofty  hall,  the  vaulted  roof  of  which  rose  almost  to  the  summit 
of  the  tower.  The  walls  and  ceiling  of  the  hall  were  adorned 
with  arabesques  and  fret- work  sparkling  with  gold,  and  with 
brilliant  pencilling.  In  the  centre  of  the  marble  pavement, 
was  an  alabaster  fountain,  set  round  with  aromatic  shrubs 
and  flowers,  and  throwing  up  a  jet  of  water  that  cooled  the 
whole  edifice  and  had  a  lulling  sound.  Round  the  hall  were 
suspended  cages  of  gold  and  silver  wire,  containing  singing 
birds  of  the  finest  plumage  or  sweetest  note. 

The  princesses  having  beeii  represented  as  always  cheerful 
when  in  the  castle  of  Salobrena,  the  king  had  expected  to 
see  them  enraptured  with  the  Alhambra.  To  his  surprise, 
however,  they  began  to  pine,  and  grew  green  and  melancholy, 
and  dissatisfied  with  every  thing  around  them.  The  flowers 
yielded  them  no  fragrance;  the  song  of  the  nightingale  dis 
turbed  their  night's  rest,  and  they  were  out  of  all  patience 
with  the  alabaster  fountain,  with  its  eternal  drop,  drop,  and 
splash,  splash,  from  morning  till  night,  and  from  night  till 
morning. 

The  king,  who  was  somewhat  of  a  testy,  tyrannical  old  man, 
took  this  at  first  in  high  dudgeon;  but  he  reflected  that  hi* 
daughters  had  arrived  at  an  age  when  the  female  mind 
expands  and  its  desires  augment.  "They  are  no  longo  • 
children,"  said  he  to  himself;  "they  are  women  &TOWII,  and 
require  suitable  objects  to  interest  them."  He  put  in  requisi 
tion,  therefore,  all  the  dress  makers,  and  the  jewellers,  and 
the  artificers  in  gold  and  silver  throughout  the  Zacatin  of 
Granada*  and  the  princesses  were  overwhelmed  with  robes 


98  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

of  silk,  and  of  tissue  and  of  brocade,  and  cachemire  shawls, 
and  necklaces  of  pearls,  and  diamonds,  and  rings,  and  brace 
lets,  and  anklets,  and  all  manner  of  precious  things. 

All,  however,  was  of  no  avail.  The  princesses  continued 
pale  and  languid  in  the  midst  of  their  finery,  and  looked  like 
three  blighted  rose  buds,  drooping  from  one  stalk.  The  king 
was  at  his  wit's  end.  He  had  in  general  a  laudable  confidence 
in  his  own  judgment,  and  never  took  advice.  "The  whims 
and  caprices  of  three  marriageable  damsels,  however,  are 
sufficient,"  said  he,  "to  puzzle  the  shrewdest  head."— So,  for 
once  in  his  life,  he  called  in  the  aid  of  counsel. 

The  person  to  whom  he  applied  was  the  experienced  duenna. 

' '  Cadiga, "  said  the  king,  ' '  I  know  you  to  be  one  of  the  most 
discreet  women  in  the  whole  world,  as  well  as  one  of  the  most 
trustworthy ;  for  these  reasons,  I  have  always  continued  you 
about  the  persons  of  my  daughters.  Fathers  cannot  be  too 
wary  in  whom  they  repose  such  confidence.  I  now  wish  you 
to  find  out  the  secret  malady  that  is  preying  upon  the  prin 
cesses,  and  to  devise  some  means  of  restoring  them  to  health 
and  cheerfulness." 

Cadiga  promised  implicit  obedience.  In  fact,  she  knew 
more  of  the  malady  of  the  princesses  than  they  did  them 
selves.  Shutting  herself  up  with  them,  however,  she  endea 
voured  to  insinuate  herself  into  their  confidence. 

' '  My  dear  children,  what  is  the  reason  you  are  so  dismal 
and  downcast,  in  so  beautiful  a  place,  where  you  have  every 
thing  that  heart  can  wish?" 

The  princesses  looked  vacantly  round  the  apartment,  and 
sighed. 

' '  What  more,  then,  would  you  have  ?  Shall  I  get  you  the 
wonderful  parrot  that  talks  all  languages,  and  is  the  delight  of 
Granada?" 

' '  Odious !"  exclaimed  the  princess  Zayda.  l '  A  horrid  scream 
ing  bird  that  chatters  words  without  ideas!  One  must  be 
without  brains  to  tolerate  such  a  pest." 

"Shall  I  send  for  a  monkey  from  the  rock  of  Gibraltar,  to 
divert  you  with  his  antics?" 

"A  monkey!  faugh!"  cried  Zorayda,  "the  detestable  mimic 
of  man.  I  hate  the  nauseous  animal." 

"What  say  you  to  the  famous  black  singer,  Casern,  from 
the  royal  harem  in  Morocco.  They  say  he  has  a  voice  as  fine 
as  a  woman's." 

"I  am  terrified  at  the  sight  of  these  black  slaves,"  said  the 


LEO  END   OF  THE  THREE  BEAUTIFUL  PRINCESSES.     99 

delicate    Zorahayda;     "besides,    I    have    lost    all    relish    for 
music." 

"Ah,  my  child,  you  would  not  say  so,"  replied  the  old 
woman,  slyly,  "had  you  heard  the* music  I  heard  last  even 
ing,  from  the  three  Spanish  cavaliers  whom  we  met  on  our 
journey. — But  bless  me,  children!  what  is  the  matter  that 
you  blush  so,  and  are  in  such  a  nutter  ?" 

"Nothing,  nothing,  good  mother,  pray  proceed." 

"Well— as  I  was  passing  by  the  Vermilion  towers,  last 
evening,  I  saw  the  three  cavaliers  resting  after  their  day's 
labour.  One  was  playing  on  the  guitar  so  gracefully,  and 
the  others  sang  by  turns — and  they  did  it  in  such  style,  that 
the  very  guards  seemed  like  statues  or  men  enchanted.  Allah 
forgive  me,  I  could  not  help  being  moved  at  hearing  the  songs 
of  my  native  country. — And  then  to  see  three  such  noble  and 
handsome  youths  in  chains  and  slavery." 

Here  the  kind-hearted  old  woman  could  not  restrain  her  tears. 

"  Perhaps,  mother,  you  could  manage  to  procure  us  a  sight 
of  these  cavaliers,"  said  Zayda. 

"I  think,"  said  Zorayda,  "a  little  music  would  be  quite 
reviving." 

The  timid  Zorahayda  said  nothing,  but  threw  her  arms 
round  the  neck  of  Cadiga. 

" Mercy  on  me !"  exclaimed  the  discreet  old  woman ;  "what 
are  you  talking  of,  my  children  ?  Your  father  would  be  the 
death  of  us  all,  if  he  heard  of  such  a  thing.  To  be  sure,  these 
cavaliers  are  evidently  well-bred  and  high-minded  youths — but 
what  of  that !  they  are  the  enemies  of  our  faith,  and  you  must 
not  even  think  of  them,  but  with  abhorrence." 

There  is  an  admirable  intrepidity  in  the  female  will,  particu 
larly  about  the  marriageable  age,  which  is  not  to  be  deterred 
by  dangers  and  prohibitions.  The  princesses  hung  round  their 
old  duenna,  and  coaxed  and  entreated,  and  declared  that  a  re 
fusal  would  break  their  hearts.  What  could  she  do?  She  was 
certainly  the  most  discreet  old  woman  in  the  whole  world,  and 
one  of  the  most  faithful  servants  to  the  king— but  was  she  to 
see  three  beautiful  princesses  break  their  hearts  for  the  mere 
tinkling  of  a  guitar?  Beside,  though  she  had  been  so  long 
among  the  Moors,  and  changed  her  faith,  in  imitation  of  her 
mistress,  like  a  trusty  follower,  yet  she  was  a  Spaniard  born, 
and  had  the  lingering^  of  Christianity  in  her  heart.  So  she  set 
about  to  contrive  how  the  wishes  of  the  princesses  might  be 
gratified, 


100  THE  ALIIAMBRA. 

The  Christian  captives  confined  in  the  Vermilion  towers, 
were  under  the  charge  of  a  big-whiskered,  broad-shouldered 
renegado,  called  Hussein  Baba,  who  was  reported  to  have  a 
most  itching  palm.  She  went  to  him,  privately,  and  slipping 
a  broad  piece  of  gold  into  his  hand,  "  Hussein  Baba,"  said  she, 
"my  mistresses,  the  three  princesses,  who  are  shut  up  in  the 
tower,  and  in  sad  want  of  amusement,  have  heard  of  the  musi 
cal  talents  of  the  three  Spanish  cavaliers,  and  are  desirous  of 
hearing  a  specimen  of  their  skill.  I  am  sure  you  are  too  kind- 
hearted  to  refuse  them  so  innocent  a  gratification." 

"  What,  and  to  have  my  head  set  grinning  over  the  gate  of 
my  own  tower — for  that  would  be  the  reward,  if  the  king 
should  discover  it." 

' '  No  danger  of  any  thing  of  the  kind ;  the  affair  may  be 
managed  so  that  the  whim  of  the  princesses  may  be  gratified, 
and  their  father  be  never  the  wiser.  You  know  the  deep  ra 
vine  outside  of  the  walls,  that  passes  immediately  below  the 
tower.  Put  the  three  Christians  to  work  there,  and  at  the  in 
tervals  of  their  labour  let  them  play  and  sing,  as  if  for  their 
own  recreation.  In  this  way,  the  princesses  will  be  able  to  hear 
them  from  the  windows  of  the  tower,  and  you  may  be  sure  or 
their  paying  well  for  your  compliance." 

As  the  good  old  woman  concluded  her  harangue,  she  kindly 
pressed  the  rough  hand  of  the  renegado,  and  left  within  it  an 
other  piece  of  gold. 

Her  eloquence  was  irresistible.  The  very  next  day  the  three 
cavaliers  were  put  to  work  in  the  ravine.  During  the  noon 
tide  heat  when  their  fellow  labourers  were  sleeping  in  the 
shade,  and  the  guard  nodded  drowsily  at  his  post,  they  seated 
themselves  among  the  herbage  at  the  foot  of  the  tower,  and 
sang  a  Spanish  roundelay  to  the  accompaniment  of  the  guitar. 

The  glen  was  deep,  the  tower  was  high,  but  their  voices  rose 
distinctly  in  the  stillness  of  the  summer  noon.  The  princesses 
listened  from  their  balcony ;  they  had  been  taught  the  Spanish 
language  by  their  duenna,  and  were  moved  by  the  tenderness 
of  the  song. 

The  discreet  Cadiga,  on  the  contrary,  was  terribly  shocked. 
1 '  Allah  preserve  us, "  cried  she,  ' '  they  are  singing  a  love  ditty 
addressed  to  yourselves, — did  ever  mortal  hear  of  such  audac 
ity?  I  will  run  to  the  slave  master  and  have  them  soundly 
bastinadoed." 

* '  What,  bastinado  such  gallant  cavaliers,  and  for  singing  so 
charmingly?"  The  three  beautiful  princesses  were  filled  witb 


LEGEND   OF  THE   THREE  BEAUTIFUL  PRINCESSES.  101 


horror  at  the  idea.  With  all  her  virtuous  'indignation, 
old  woman  wasopf  a  placable  nature  and  easily  appeased.  Be 
side,  the  music  seemed  to  have  a  ben  ef-cial:  effect/  -upon  -hor 
young  mistresses.  A  rosy  bloom  had  already  ooiiao  -to  •  their 
cheeks,  and  their  eyes  began  to  sparkle.  She  made  no  further 
objection,  therefore,  to  the  amorous  ditty  of  the  cavaliers. 

When  it  was  finished,  the  princesses  remained  silent  for  a 
time;  at  length  Zorayda  took  up  a  lute,  and  with  a  sweet, 
though  faint  and  trembling  voice,  warbled  a  little  Arabian  air, 
the  burden  of  which  was,  "The  rose  is  concealed  among  her 
leaves,  but  she  listens  with  delight  to  the  song  of  the  nightin 
gale." 

From  this  time  forward  the  cavaliers  worked  almost  daily  in 
the  ravine.  The  considerate  Hussein  Baba  became  more  and 
more  indulgent,  and  daily  more  prone  to  sleep  at  his  post. 
For  some  time  a  vague  intercourse  was  kept  up  by  popular 
songs  and  romances  ;  which  in  some  measure  responded  to  each 
other,  and  breathed  the  feelings  of  the  parties.  By  degrees 
the  princesses  showed  themselves  at  the  balcony,  when  they 
could  do  so  without  being  perceived  by  the  guards.  They  con 
versed  with  the  cavaliers  also  by  means  of  flowers,  with  the 
symbolical  language  of  which  they  were  mutually  acquainted  : 
the  difficulties  of  their  intercourse  added  to  its  charms,  and 
strengthened  the  passion  they  had  so  singularly  conceived  ;  for 
love  delights  to  struggle  with  difficulties,  and  thrives  the  most 
hardily  on  the  scantiest  soil. 

The  change  effected  in  the  looks  and  spirits  of  the  princesses 
by  this  secret  intercourse,  surprised  and  gratified  the  left- 
handed  king  ;  but  no  one  was  more  elated  than  the  discreet 
Cadiga,  who  considered  it  all  owing  to  her  able  manage 
ment. 

At  length  there  was  an  interruption  in  this  telegraphic  cor 
respondence,  for  several  days  the  cavaliers  ceased  to  make 
their  appearance  in  the  glen.  The  three  beautiful  princesses 
looked  out  from  the  tower  in  vain.  —  In  vain  they  stretched 
their  swan-like  necks  from  the  balcony;  in  vain  they  sang  like 
captive  nightingales  in  their  cage  ;  nothing  was  to  be  seen  of 
their  Christian  lovers,  not  a  note  responded  from  the  groves. 
The  discreet  Cadiga  sallied  forth  in  quest  of  intelligence,  and 
soon  returned  with  a  face  full  of  trouble.  "  Ah,  my  children  !" 
cried  she,  '  '  I  saw  what  all  this  would  come  to,  but  you  would 
have  your  way  ;  you  may  now  hang  up  your  lutes  on  the  wil- 
IQWS,  The  Spanish  cavaliers  are  ransomed  by  their  familio;;  ; 


IQ2  Tllh  ALUAMBRA. 

they  arl»,  dowia  in  t^anada,  and  preparing  to  return  to  theii 
native  country:" 

The  three  -beautiful,  princesses  were  in  despair  at  the  tidings. 
The  -fair  Za/yda  was  indignant  at  the  slight  put  upon  them,  in 
being  thus  deserted  without  a  parting  word.  Zorayda  rung  her 
hands  and  cried,  and  looked  in  the  glass,  and  wiped  away  her 
tears,  and  cried  afresh.  The  gentle  Zorahayda  leaned  over  the 
balcony,  and  wept  in  silence,  and  her  tears  fell  drop  by  drop, 
among  the  flowers  of  the  bank  where  the  faithless  cavaliers 
had  so  often  been  seated. 

The  discreet  Cadiga  did  all  in  her  power  to  soothe  their  sor 
row.  "  Take  comfort,  my  children,"  said  she,  "  this  is  nothing 
when  you  are  used  to  it.  This  is  the  way  of  the  world.  Ah, 
when  you  are  as  old  as  I  am,  you  will  know  how  to  value  these 
men.  I'll  warrant  these  cavaliers  have  their  loves  among  the 
Spanish  beauties  of  Cordova  and  Seville,  and  will  soon  be  sere 
nading  under  their  balconies,  and  thinking  no  more  of  the 
Moorish  beauties  in  the  Alhambra.— Take  comfort,  therefore, 
my  children,  and  drive  them  from  your  hearts." 

The  comforting  words  of  the  discreet  Cadiga  only  redoubled 
the  distress  of  the  princesses,  and  for  two  days  they  continued 
inconsolable.  On  the  morning  of  the  third,  the  good  old  woman 
entered  their  apartment  all  ruffling  with  indignation. 

"Who  would  have  believed  such  insolence  in  mortal  man?'* 
exclaimed  she,  as  soon  as  she  could  find  words  to  express  her 
self  ;  ' '  but  I  am  rightly  served  for  having  connived  at  this  de 
ception  of  your  worthy  father— never  talk  more  to  me  of  your 
Spanish  cavaliers." 

"Why,  what  has  happened,  good  Cadiga?"  exclaimed  the 
princesses,  in  breathless  anxiety. 

"What  has  happened?  treason  has  happened!— or  what  is 
almost  as  bad,  treason  has  been  proposed — and  to  me — the 
faithfulest  of  subjects— the  trustiest  of  duennas— yes,  my  chil 
dren—the  Spanish  cavaliers  have  dared  to  tamper  \\ith  me; 
that  I  should  persuade  you  to  fly  with  them  to  Cordova,  and 
become  their  wives." 

Here  the  excellent  old  woman  covered  her  face  with  her 
hands,  and  gave  way  to  a  violent  burst  of  grief  and  indigna 
tion. 

The  three  beautiful  princesses  turned  pale  and  red,  and  trenv 
bled,  and  looked  down ;  and  cast  shy  looks  at  each  other,  but 
said  nothing :  meantime,  the  old  vroman  sat  rocking  backward 
forward  in  violent  agitation,  and  now  and  then  breaking 


LEGEND   OF  THE  THREE  BEAUTIFUL  PRINCESSES.  103 

out  into  exclamations  - u  That  ever  I  should  live  to  be  so  in* 
suited — I,  the  faithfulest  of  servants!" 

At  length  the  eldest  princess,  who  had  most  spirit,  and  always 
took  the  lead,  approached  her,  and  laying  her  hand  upon  her 
shoulder—"  Well,  mother,"  said  she,  "  supposing  we  were  will 
ing  to  fly  with  these  Christian  cavaliers — is  such  a  thing  pos 
sible?" 

The  good  old  woman  paused  suddenly  in  her  grief,  and  look 
ing  up— "Possible!"  echoed  she,  "to  be  sure  it  is  possible 
Have  not  the  cavaliers  already  bribed  Hussein  Baba,  the  rene 
gado  captain  of  the  guard,  and  arranged  the  whole  plan?— But 
then  to  think  of  deceiving  your  father — your  father,  who  has 
placed  such  confidence  in  me?" 

Here  the  worthy  old  woman  gave  way  to  a  fresh  burst  of 
grief,  and  began  again  to  rock  backwards  and  forwards,  and  to 
wring  her  hands. 

"But  our  father  has  never  placed  any  confidence  in  us,"  said 
the  eldest  princess;  "but  has  trusted  to  bolts  and  bars,  and 
treated  us  as  captives." 

"Why,  that  is  true  enough,"  replied  the  old  woman,  again 
pausing  in  her  grief—' '  He  has  indeed  treated  you  most  unrea 
sonably.  Keeping  you  shut  up  here  to  waste  your  bloom  in  a 
moping  old  tower,  like  roses  left  to  wither  in  a  flower  jar.  But 
then  to  fly  from  your  native  land." 

"And  is  not  the  land  we  fly  to,  the  native  land  of  our  mother; 
where  we  shall  live  in  freedom?— and  shall  we  not  each  have  a 
youthful  husband  in  exchange  for  a  severe  old  father?" 

"Why,  that  again  is  all  very  true— and  your  father,  I  must 
confess,  is  rather  tyrannical. — But  what  then" — relapsing  into 
her  grief— "would  you  leave  me  behind  to  bear  the  brunt  of 
his  vengeance?" 

"  By  no  means,  my  good  Cadiga.     Cannot  you  fly  with  us?" 

"Very  true,  my  child,  and  to  tell  the  truth,  when  I  talked 
the  matter  over  with  Hussein  Baba,  he  promised  to  take  care 
of  me  if  I  would  accompany  you  in  your  flight :  but  then,  be 
think  you,  my  children;  are  you  willing  to  renounce  the  faith 
of  your  father?" 

"The  Christian  faith  was  the  original  faith  of  our  mother," 
said  the  eldest  princess;  "I  am  ready  to  embrace  it;  and  so  I 
am  sure  are  my  sisters." 

"Right  again!"  exclaimed  the  old  woman,  brightening  up. 
"It  was  the  original  faith  of  your  mother;  and  bitterly  did  she 
lament,  on  hor  death-bed,  that  she  had  renounced  it.  I  prom- 


104  Tim 

ised  her  then  to  take  care  of  your  souls,  and  I  am  rejoiced  to 
see  that  they  are  now  in  a  fair  way  to  be  saved.  Yes,  my  chil 
dren;  I  too  was  born  a  Christian— and  have  always  been  a 
Christian  in  my  heart ;  and  am  resolved  to  return  to  the  faith. 
I  have  talked  on  the  subject  with  Hussein  Baba,  who  is  a  Span 
iard  by  birth,  and  comes  from  a  place  not  far  from  my  native 
town.  He  is  equally  anxious  to  see  his  own  country  and  to  be 
reconciled  to  the  church,  and  the  cavaliers  have  promised  that 
if  we  are  disposed  to  become  man  and  wife  on  returning  to  our 
native  land,  they  will  provide  for  us  handsomely. " 

In  a  word,  it  appeared  that  this  extremely  discreet  and  provi 
dent  old  woman  had  consulted  with  the  cavaliers  and  the  rene- 
gado,  and  had  concerted  the  whole  plan  of  escape.  The  eldest 
princess  immediately  assented  to  it,  and  her  example  as  usual 
determined  the  conduct  of  her  sisters.  It  is  true,  the  youngest 
hesitated,  for  she  was  gentle  and  timid  of  soul,  and  there  was 
a  struggle  in  her  bosom  between  filial  feeling  and  youthful 
passion.  The  latter  however,  as  usual,  gained  the  victory,  and 
with  silent  tears  and  stifled  sighs  she  prepared  herself  for 
flight. 

The  rugged  hill  on  which  the  Alhambra  is  built  was  in  old 
times  perforated  with  subterranean  passages,  cut  through  the 
rock,  and  leading  from  the  fortress  to  various  parts  of  the  city, 
and  to  distant  sally-ports  on  the  banks  of  the  Darro  and  the 
Xenil.  They  had  been  constructed  at  different  times,  by  the 
Moorish  kings,  as  means  of  escape  from  sudden  insurrection,  or 
of  secretly  issuing  forth  on  private  enterprises.  Many  of  them 
are  now  entirely  lost,  while  others  remain,  partly  choked  up 
with  rubbish,  and  partly  walled  up — monuments  of  the  jealous 
precautions  and  warlike  stratagems  of  the  Moorish  government. 
By  one  of  these  passages,  Hussein  Baba  had  undertaken  to 
conduct  the  princesses  to  a  sally-port  beyond  the  walls  of  the 
city,  where  the  cavaliers  were  to  be  ready  with  fleet  steeds  to 
bear  them  all  over  the  borders. 

The  appointed  night  arrived.  The  tower  of  the  princesses 
had  been  locked  up  as  usual,  and  the  Alhambra  was  buried  in 
deep  sleep.  Towards  midnight  the  discreet  Cadiga  listened 
from  a  balcony  of  a  window  that  looked  into  the  garden. 
Hussein  Baba,  the  renegado,  was  already  below,  and  gave  the 
appointed  signal.  The  duenna  fastened  the  end  of  a  ladder  of 
ropes  to  the  balcony,  lowered  it  into  the  garden,  and  descended. 
The  two  eldest  princesses  followed  her  with  beating  hearts;  but 
when  it  came  to  the  turn  of  the  youngest  prioress.  Zorahayda* 


LEGEND   OP  THE  THREE  BEA  UTIFUL  PRINCESSES.  1Q5 

she  hesitated  and  trembled.  Several  times  she  ventured  a  deli 
cate  little  foot  upon  the  ladder,  and  as  often  drew  it  back; 
while  her  poor  little  heart  fluttered  more  and  more  the  longer 
she  delayed.  She  cast  a  wistful  look  back  into  the  silken  cham 
ber  ;  she  had  lived,  in  it,  to  be  sure,  like  a  bird  in  a  cage,  but 
within  it  she  was  secure— who  could  not  tell  what  dangers 
might  beset  her  should  she  flutter  forth  into  the  wide  world? 
Now  she  bethought  her  of  her  gallant  Christian  lover,  and  her 
little  foot  was  instantly  upon  the  ladder,  and  anon  she  thought 
of  her  father,  and  shrunk  back.  But  fruitless  is  the  attempt  to 
describe  the  conflict  in  the  bosom. of  one  so  young,  and  tender, 
and  loving,  but  so  timid  and  so  ignorant  of  the  world.  In  vain 
her  sisters  implored,  the  duenna  scolded,  and  the  renegado 
blasphemed  beneath  the  balcony.  The  gentle  little  Moorish 
maid  stood  doubting  and  wavering  on  the  verge  of  elopement ; 
tempted  by  the  sweetness  of  the  sin,  but  terrified  at  its  perils. 

Every  moment  increased  the  danger  of  discovery.  A  distant 
tramp  was  heard.— "  The  patrols  are  walking  the  rounds,"  cried 
the  renegado;  "if  we  linger  longer  we  perish— princess,  de 
scend  instantly,  or  we  leave  you. " 

Zorahayda  was  for  a  moment  in  fearful  agitation,  then  loos 
ening  the  ladder  of  ropes,  with  desperate  resolution  she  flung 
it  from  the  balcony. 

"It  is  decided, " cried  she,  "flight  is  now  out  of  my  power!— 
Allah  guide  and  bless  ye,  my  dear  sisters  1" 

The  two  eldest  princesses  were  shocked  at  the  thoughts  of 
leaving  her  behind,  and  would  fain  have  lingered,  but  the 
patrol  was  advancing;  the  renegado  was  furious,  and  they 
were  hurried  away  to  the  subterraneous  passage.  They  groped 
their  way  through  a  fearful  labyrinth  cut  through  the  heart  of 
the  mountain,  and  succeeded  in  reaching,  undiscovered,  an 
iron  gate  that  opened  outside  of  the  walls.  The  Spanish  cav 
aliers  were  waiting  to  receive  them,  disguised  as  Moorish  sol 
diers  of  the  guard  commanded  by  the  renegado. 

The  lover  of  Zorahayda  was  frantic  when  he  learned  that  she 
had  refused  to  leave  the  tower;  but  there  was  no  time  to  waste 
in  lamentations.  The  two  princesses  were  placed  behind  their 
lovers;  the  discreet  Cadiga  mounted  behind  the  renegado,  and 
all  set  off  at  a  round  pace  in  the  direction  of  the  pass  of  Lope, 
which  leads  through  the  mountains  towards  Cordova. 

They  had  not  proceeded  far  when  they  heard  the  noise  of 
drums  and  trumpets  from  the  battlements  of  the  Alhambra. 
"  Our  flight  is  discovered, "  said  the  renegado  ' '  We  have  fleet 


106  THE  ALUAMBRA. 

steeds,  the  night  is  dark,  and  we  may  distance  all  pursuit," 
replied  the  cavaliers. 

They  put  spurs  to  their  horses  and  scoured  across  the  Vega, 
They  attained  to  the  foot  of  the  mountain  of  Elvira,  which 
stretches  like  a  promontory  into  the  plain.  The  renegado 
paused  and  listened.  "As  yet,"  said  he,  "there  is  no  one  on 
our  traces,  we  shall  make  good  our  escape  to  the  mountains." 
While  he  spoke  a  ball  of  fire  sprang  up  in  a  light  blaze  on  the 
top  of  the  watch-tower  of  the  Alhambra. 

"  Confusion!"  cried  the  renegado,  "that  fire  will  put  all  the 
guards  of  the  passes  on  the  alert.  Away,  away,  spur  like  mad ; 
there  is  no  time  to  be  lost. " 

Away  they  dashed — the  clattering  of  their  horses'  hoofs 
echoed  from  rock  to  rock  as  they  swept  along  the  road  that 
skirts  the  rocky  mountain  of  Elvira.  As  they  galloped  on, 
they  beheld  that  the  ball  of  fire  of  the  Alhambra  was  answered 
in  every  direction ;  light  after  light  blazed  on  the  atalayas  or 
watch-towers  of  the  mountains. 

"Forward!  forward!"  cried  the  renegado,  with  many  an 
oath — "to  the  bridge! — to  the  bridge!  before  the  alarm  has 
reached  there." 

They  doubled  the  promontory  of  the  mountain,  and  arrived 
in  sight  of  the  famous  Puente  del  Pinos,  that  crosses  a  rushing 
stream  often  dyed  with  Christian  and  Moslem  blood.  To  their 
confusion  the  tower  on  the  bridge  blazed  with  lights  and  glit 
tered  with  armed  men.  The  renegado  pulled  up  his  steed",  rose 
in  his  stirrups  and  looked  about  him  for  a  moment,  then  beck 
oning  to  the  cavaliers  he  struck  off  from  the  road,  skirted  the 
river  for  some  distance,  and  dashed  into  its  waters.  The  cav 
aliers  called  upon  the  princesses  to  cling  to  them,  and  did  the 
same.  They  were  borne,  for  some  distance  down  the  rapid 
current,  the  surges  roared  round  them,  but  the  beautiful  prin 
cesses  clung  to  their  Christian  knights  and  never  uttered  a 
complaint.  The  cavaliers  attained  the  opposite  bank  in  safety, 
and  were  conducted  by  the  renegado,  by  rude  and  unfre 
quented  paths,  and  wild  barrancos  through  the  heart  of  the 
mountains,  so  as  to  avoid  all  the  regular  passes.  In  a  word, 
they  succeeded  in  reaching  the  ancient  city  of  Cordova ;  when 
their  restoration  to  their  country  and  friends  was  celebrated 
with  great  rejoicings,  for  they  were  of  the  noblest  families. 
The  beautiful  princesses  were  forthwith  received  into  the 
bosom  of  the  church,  and  after  being  in  all  due  form  made 
regular  Christians,  were  rendered  happy  lovers, 


LEGEND  OP  THE  THREE  BEAUTIFUL  PRINCESSES.  1Q7 

In  our  hurry  to  make  good  the  escape  of  the  princesses 
across  the  river  and  up  the  mountains,  we  forgot  to  mention 
the  fate  of  the  discreet  Cadiga.  She  had  clung  like  a  cat  to 
Hussein  Baba,  in  the  scamper  across  the  Vega,  screaming  at 
every  bound  and  drawing  many  an  oath  from  the  whiskered 
renegado ;  but  when  he  prepared  to  plunge  his  steed  into  the 
river  her  terror  knew  no  bounds. 

"Grasp  me  not  so  tightly," cried  Hussein  Baba;  "hold  on  by 
my  belt,  and  fear  nothing." 

She  held  firmly  with  both  hands  by  the  leathern  belt  that 
girded  the  broad-backed  renegado ;  but  when  he  halted  with 
the  cavaliers  to  take  breath  on  the  mountain  summit,  the 
duenna  was  no  longer  to  be  seen. 

"What  has  become  of  Cadiga?"  cried  the  princesses  in 
alarm. 

"I  know  not,"  replied  the  renegado.  "My  belt  came  loose 
in  the  midst  of  the  river,  and  Cadiga  was  swept  with  it  down 
the  stream.  The  will  of  Allah  be  done!— but  it  was  an  em 
broidered  belt  and  of  great  price !" 

There  was  no  time  to  waste  in  idle  reports,  yet  bitterly  did 
the  princesses  bewail  the  loss  of  their  faithful  and  discreet 
counsellor.  That  excellent  old  woman,  however,  did  not  lose 
more  than  half  of  her  nine  lives  in  the  stream.— A  fisherman 
who  was  drawing  his  nets  some  distance  down  the  stream, 
brought  her  to  land  and  was  not  a  little  astonished  at  his 
miraculous  draught.  What  farther  became  of  the  discreet 
Cadiga,  the  legend  does  not  mention.— Certain  it  is,  that  she 
evinced  her  discretion  in  never  venturing  within  the  reach  of 
Mohamed  the  leit-handed. 

Almost  as  little  is  known  of  the  conduct  of  that  sagacious 
monarch,  when  he  discovered  the  escape  of  his  daughters  and 
the  deceit  practised  upon  him  by  the  most  faithful  of  servants. 
It  was  the  only  instance  in  which  he  had  called  in  the  aid  of 
counsel,  and  he  was  never  afterwards  known  to  be  guilty  of  a 
similar  weakness.  He  took  good  care,  however,  to  guard  his 
remaining  daughter;  who  had  no  disposition  to  elope.  It  is 
thought,  indeed,  that  she  secretly  repented  having  remained 
behind.  Now  and  then  she  was  seen  leaning  on  the  battle 
ments  of  the  tower  and  looking  mournfully  towards  the  moun 
tains,  in  the  direction  of  Cordova ;  and  sometimes  the  notes  of 
her  lute  were  'heard  accompanying  plaintive  ditties,  in  which 
she  was  said  to  lament  the  loss  of  her  sisters  and  her  lover,  and 
to  bewail  her  solitary  lif e.  She  died  young,  and,  according  to 


108  THE  ALJIAMBRA. 

popular  rumour,  was  buried  in  a  vault  beneath  the  tower,  and 
her  untimely  fate  has  given  rise  to  more  than  one  traditionary 


fable. 


LOCAL  TRADITIONS. 


THE  common  people  of  Spain  have  an  oriental  passion  for 
story -telling  and  are  fond  of  the  marvellous.  They  will  gather- 
round  the  doors  of  their  cottages  on  summer  evenings,  or  in 
the  great  cavernous  chimney  corners  of  their  ventas  in  the 
winter,  and  listen  with  insatiable  delight  to  miraculous  legends 
of  saints,  perilous  adventures  of  travellers,  and  daring  exploits 
of  robbers  and  contrabandistas.  The  wild  and  solitary  nature 
of  a  great  part  of  Spain;  the  imperfect  state  of  knowledge; 
the  scantiness  of  general  topics  of  conversation,  and  the  ro 
mantic,  adventurous  life  that  every  one  leads  in  a  land  where 
travelling  is  yet  in  its  primitive  state,  all  contribute  to  cherish 
this  love  of  oral  narration,  and  to  produce  a  strong  expression 
of  the  extravagant  and  wonderful.  There  is  no  theme,  how 
ever,  more  prevalent  or  popular  than  that  of  treasures  buried 
by  the  Moors.  It  pervades  the  whole  country.  In  traversing 
the  wild  Sierras,  the  scenes  of  ancient  prey  and  exploit,  you 
cannot  see  a  Moorish  atalaya  or  watch-tower  perched  among 
the  cliffs,  or  beetling  above  its  rock-built  village,  but  your 
muleteer,  on  being  closely  questioned,  will  suspend  the  smok 
ing  of  his  cigarillo  to  tell  some  tale  of  Moslem  gold  buried  be> 
neath  its  foundations ;  nor  is  there  a  ruined  alcazar  in  a  city, 
but  has  its  golden  tradition,  handed  down,  from  generation  to 
generation,  among  the  poor  people  of  the  neighbourhood. 

These,  like  most  popular  fictions,  have  had  some  ground 
work  in  fact.  During  the  wars  between  Moor  and  Christian, 
which  distracted  the  country  for  centuries,  towns  and  castles 
were  liable  frequently  and  suddenly  to  change  owners ;  and  the 
inhabitants,  during  sieges  and  assaults,  were  fain  to  bury  their 
money  and  jewels  in  the  earth,  or  hide  them  in  vaults  and  wells, 
as  is  often  done  at  the  present  day  in  the  despotic  and  belliger 
ent  countries  of  the  East.  At  the  time  of  the  expulsion  of  the 
Moors,  also,  many  of  them  concealed  their  most  precious 
effects,  hoping  that  their  exile  would  be  but  temporary,  and 
that  they  would  be  enabled  to  return  and  retrieve  their  treas 
ures  at  some  future  day.  It  is  certain  that,  'from  time  to 
time,  hoards  of  gold  and  silver  coin  have  been  accidentally 
digged  up,  after  a  lapse  of  centuries,  from  among  the  ruin? 


LEGKND  OP  THE  MOORS  LEGACY. 

of  Moorish  fortresses  and  habitations,  and  it  requires  but  a 
few  facts  of  the  kind  to  give  birth  to  a  thousand  fictions. 

The  stories  thus  originating  have  generally  something  of  an 
oriental  tinge,  and  are  marked  with  that  mixture  of  the  Arabic 
and  Gothic  which  seems  to  me  to  characterize  everything  in 
Spain ;  and  especially  in  its  southern  provinces.  The  hidden 
wealth  is  always  laid  under  magic  spell,  and  secured  by  charm, 
and  talisman.  Sometimes  it  is  guarded  by  uncouth  monsters, 
or  fiery  dragons ;  sometimes  by  enchanted  Moors,  who  sit  by  it 
in  armour,  with  drawn  swords,  but  motionless  as  statues, 
maintaining  a  sleepless  watch  for  ages. 

The  Alhambra,  of  course,  from  the  peculiar  circumstances  of 
Its  history,  is  a  strong  hold  for  popular  fictions  of  the  kind, 
and  curious  reliques,  dug  up  from  time  to  time,  have  contrib 
uted  to  strengthen  them.  At  one  time,  an  earthen  vessel  was 
found,  containing  Moorish  coins  and  the  skeleton  of  a  cock, 
which,  according  to  the  opinion  of  shrewd  inspectors,  must 
have  been  buried  alive.  At  another  time,  a  vessel  was  digged 
up,  containing  a  great  scarabaeus,  or  beetle,  of  baked  clay,  cov 
ered  with  Arabic  inscriptions,  which  was  pronounced  a  pro 
digious  amulet  of  occult  virtues.  In  this  way  the  wits  of  the 
ragged  brood  who  inhabit  the  Alhambra  have  been  set  wool 
gathering,  until  there  is  not  a  hall,  or  tower,  or  vault,  of  the 
old  fortress  that  has  not  been  made  the  scene  of  some  marvel 
lous  tradition. 

I  have  already  given  brief  notices  of  some  related  to  me  by 
the  authentic  Mateo  Ximenes,  and  now  subjoin  one  wrought 
out  from  various  particulars  gathered  among  the  gossips  of  the 
fortress. 


LEGEND  OF  THE  MOOR'S  LEGACY. 

JUST  within  the  fortress  of  the  Alhambra,  in  front  of  the 
royal  palace,  is  a  broad  open  esplanade,  called  the  place  or 
square  of  the  cisterns,  (la  plaza  de  los  algibes,)  so  called  from 
being  undermined  by  reservoirs  of  water,  hidden  from  sight, 
and  which  have  existed  from  the  time  of  the  Moors.  At  one 
corner  of  this  esplanade  is  a  Moorish  well,  cut  through  the  liv 
ing  rock  to  a  great  depth,  the  water  of  which  is  cold  as  ice  and 
clear  as.  crystal.  The  wells  made  by  the  Moors  are  always  in 


HO  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

repute,  for  it  is  well  known  what  pains  they  took  to  penetrate 
to  the  purest  and  sweetest  springs  and  fountains.  The  one  we 
are  speaking  of  is  famous  throughout  Granada,  insomuch  that 
the  water-carriers,  some  bearing  great  water- jars  on  their 
shoulders,  others  driving  asses  before  them,  laden  with  earthen 
vessels,  are  ascending  and  descending  the  steep  woody  avenues 
of  the  Alhambra  from  early  dawn  until  a  late  hour  of  the  night. 

Fountains  and  wells,  ever  since  the  scriptural  days,  have 
been  noted  gossiping  places**in  hot  climates,  and  at  the  well  in 
question  there  i^;  a  kind  of  perpetual  club  kept  up  during  the 
live-long  day,  by  the  invalids,  old  women,  and  other  curious, 
do-nothing  folk  of  the  fortress,  who  sit  here  on  the  stone 
benches  under  an  awning  spread  over  the  well  to  shelter  the 
toll-gatherer  from  the  sun,  and  dawdle  over  the  gossip  of  the 
fortress,  and  question  any  water-carrier  that  arrives  about  the 
news  of  the  city,  and  make  long  comments  on  everything  they 
kear  and  see.  Not  an  hour  of  the  day  but  loitering  housewives 
and  idle  maid-servants  may  be  seen,  lingering  with  pitcher  on 
head  or  in  hand,  to  hear  the  last  of  the  endless  tattle  of  these 
worthies. 

Among  the  water-carriers  who  once  resorted  to  this  well 
there  was  a  sturdy,  strong-backed,  bandy-legged  litne  fellow, 
named  Pedro  Gil,  but  called  Peregil  for  shortness.  Being  a 
water-carrier,  he  was  a  Gallego,  or  native  of  Gallicia,  of 
course.  Nature  seems  to  have  formed  races  of  men  as  she  has 
of  animals  for  different  kinds  of  drudgery.  In  France  the  shoe 
blacks  are  all  Savoyards,  the  porters  of  hotels  all  Swiss,  and  in 
the  days  of  hoops  and  hair  powder  in  England,  no  man  could 
give  the  regular  swing  to  a  sedan  chair,  but  a  bog-trotting 
Irishman.  So  in  Spain  the  carriers  of  water  and  bearers  of 
burdens  are  all  sturdy  little  natives  of  Gallicia.  No  man  says, 
"  get  me  a  porter,"  but,  "  call  a  Gallego." 

To  return  from  this  digression.  Peregil  the  Gallego  had 
begun  business  with  merely  a  great  earthen  jar,  which  he  car 
ried  upon  his  shoulder ;  by  degrees  he  rose  in  the  world,  and 
was  enabled  to  purchase  an  assistant  of  a  correspondent  class 
of  animals,  being  a  stout  shaggy-haired  donkey.  On  each  side 
of  this  his  long-eared  aid-de-camp,  in  a  kind  of  pannier,  were 
slung  his  water-jars  covered  with  fig  leaves  to  protect  them  from 
the  sun.  There  was  not  a  more  industrious  water-carrier  in  all 
Granada,  nor  one  more  merry  withal.  The  streets  rang  with  his 
cheerful  voice  as  he  trudged  after  his  donkey,  singing  forth  the 
usual  summer  note  that  resounds  through  the  Spanish  towns; 


LEGEND  OF  THE  MOORS  LEGACY.       HI 

"  quien  quiere  agua — agua  masfria  que  la  nieve. — Who  wants 
water— water  colder  than  snow— who  wants  water  from  the 
well  of  the  Alhambra— cold  as  ice  and  clear  as  crystal?"  When 
he  served  a  customer  with  a  sparkling  glass,  it  was  always 
with  a  pleasant  word  that  caused  a  smile,  and  if,  percnance,  it 
was  a  comely  dame,  or  dimpling  damsel,  it  was  always  with  a 
sly  leer  and  a  compliment  to  her  beauty  that  was  irresistible. 
Thus  Peregil  the  Gallego  was  noted  throughout  all  Granada  for 
being  one  of  the  civilest,  pleasantest,  and  happiest  of  mortals, 
Yet  it  is  not  he  who  sings  loudest  and  jokes  most  that  has  the 
lightest  heart.  Under  all  this  air  of  merriment,  honest  Peregil 
had  his  cares  and  troubles.  He  had  a  large  family  of  ragged 
children  to  support,  who  were  hungry  and  clamorous  as  a 
nest  of  young  swallows,  and  beset  him  with  their  outcries  for 
food  whenever  he  came  home  of  an  evening.  He  had  a  help 
mate  too,  who  was  anything  but  a  help  to  him.  She  had  been 
a  village  beauty  before  marriage,  noted  for  her  skill  in  dancing 
the  bolero  and  rattling  the  castanets,  and  she  still  retained  her 
early  propensities,  spending  the  hard  earnings  of  honest  Pere 
gil  in  frippery,  and  laying  the  very  donkey  under  requisition 
for  junketting  parties  into  the  country  on  Sundays,  and  saints' 
days,  and  those  innumerable  holy  days  which  are  rather  more 
numerous  in  Spain  than  the  days  of  the  week.  With  all  this 
she  was  a  little  of  a  slattern,  something  more  of  a  lie-a-bed, 
and,  above  all,  a  gossip  of  the  first  water ;  neglecting  house, 
household  and  everything  else,  to  loiter  slip-shod  in  the  houses 
of  her  gossip  neighbours. 

He,  however,  who  tempers  the  wind  to  the  shorn  lamb, 
accommodates  the  yoke  of  matrimony  to  the  submissive  neck. 
Peregil  bore  all  the  heavy  dispensations  of  wife  and  children 
with  as  meek  a  spirit  as  his  donkey  bore  the  water-jars ;  and, 
however  he  might  shake  his  ears  in  private,  never  ventured  to 
question  the  household  virtues  of  his  slattern  spouse. 

He  loved  his  children  too,  even  as  an  owl  loves  its  owlets, 
seeing  in  them  his  own  image  multiplied  and  perpetuated,  for 
they  were  a  sturdy,  long-backed,  bandy-legged  little  brood. 
The  great  pleasure  of  honest  Peregil  was,  whenever  he  could 
afford  himself  a  scanty  holyd;iy  and  had  a  handful  of  marave- 
dies  to  spare,  to  take  the  whole  litter  forth  with  him,  some  in 
his  arms,  some  tugging  at  his  skirts,  and  some  trudging  at  his 
I  eels,  and  to  treat  them  to  a  gambol  among  the  orchards  of  the 
Vega,  while  his  wife  was  dancing  with  her  holyday  friends  in 
the  Angosturas  of  the  Darro, 


112  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

It  was  a  late  hour  one  summer  night,  and  most  of  the  water 
carriers  had  desisted  from  their  toils.  The  day  had  been  un 
commonly  sultry ;  the  night  was  one  of  those  delicious  moon 
lights,  which  tempt  the  inhabitants  of  those  southern  climes  to 
indemnify  themselves  for  the  heat  and  inaction  of  the  day,  by 
lingering  in  the  open  air  and  enjoying  its  tempered  sweetness 
until  after  midnight.  Customers  for  water  were  therefore 
still  abroad.  Peregil,  like  a  considerate,  painstaking  little 
father,  thought  of  his  hungry  children.  "One  more  journey 
to  the  well,"  said  he  to  himself,  "to  earn  a  good  Sunday's 
puchcro  for  the  little  ones."  So  saying,  he  trudged  rapidly  up 
the  steep  avenue  of  the  Alhambra,  singing  as  he  went,  and 
now  and  then  bestowing  a  hearty  thwack  with  a  cudgel  on 
the  flanks  of  his  donkey,  either  by  way  of  cadence  to  the  song, 
or  refreshment  to  the  animal ;  for  dry  blows  serve  in  lieu  for 
provender  in  Spain,  for  all  beasts  of  burden. 

When  arrived  at  the  well,  he  found  it  deserted  by  every  one 
except  a  solitary  stranger  in  Moorish  garb,  seated  on  the  stone 
bench  in  the  moonlight.  Peregil  paused  at  first,  and  regarded 
him  with  surprise,  not  unmixed  with  awe,  but  the  Moor  feebly 
beckoned  him  to  approach. 

"I  am  faint  and  ill,"  said  he;  "aid  me  to  return  to  the  city, 
and  I  will  pay  thee  double  what  thou  couldst  gain  by  thy  jars 
of  water." 

The  honest  heart  of  the  little  water-carrier  was  touched  with 
compassion  at  the  appeal  of  the  stranger.  "God  forbid,"  said 
he,  "  that  I  should  ask  fee  or  reward  for  doing  a  common  act 
of  humanity. " 

He  accordingly  helped  the  Moor  on  his  donkey,  and  set  off 
slowly  for  Granada,  the  poor  Moslem  being  so  weak  that  it 
was  necessary  to  hold  him  on  the  animal  to  keep  him  from 
falling  to  the  earth. 

When  they  entered  the  city,  the  water-carrier  demanded 
whither  he  should  conduct  him.  "Alas!"  said  the  .  Moor, 
faintly,  "  I  have  neither  home  nor  habitation.  I  am  a  stranger 
in  the  land.  Suffer  me  to  lay  my  head  this  night  beneath  thy 
roof,  and  thou  shall  be  amply  repaid. " 

Honest  Peregil  thus  saw  kimself  unexpectedly  saddled  with 
an  infidel  guest,  but  he  was  too  humane  to  refuse  a  night's 
shelter  to  a  fellow  being  in  so  forlorn  a  plight ;  so  he  conducted 
the  Moor  to  his  dwelling.  The  children,  who  had  sallied  forth, 
open-mouthed  as  usual,  on  hearing  the  tramp  of  the  donkey, 
ran  back  with  affright,  when  they  beheld  the  turbaned 


LEGEND  OF  THE  NOOKS  LEGACY.       113 

stranger,  and  hid  themselves  behind  their  mother.  The  latter 
stepped  forth  intrepidly,  like  a  ruffling  hen  before  her  brood, 
when  a  vagrant  dog  approaches. 

"What  infidel  companion,"  cried  she,  "is  this  you  have 
brought  home  at  this  late  hour,  to  draw  upon  us  the  eyes  of 
the  Inquisition*" 

uBe  quiet,  wife,"  replied  the  Gallcgo,  "here  is  a  poor  sick 
stranger,  without  friend  or  home :  wouldst  thou  turn  hiro  forth 
to  perish  in  the  streets  ?" 

The  wife  would  still  have  remonstrated,  for,  though  she 
lived  in  a  hovel,  she  was  a  furious  stickler  for  the  credit  of  her 
house;  the  little  water-carrier,  however,  for  once  was  stiff- 
necked,  and  refused  to  bend  beneath  the  yoke.  He  assisted 
the  poor  Moslem  to  alight,  and  spread  a  mat  and  a  sheepskin 
for  him,  on  the  ground,  in  the  coolest  part  of  the  house ;  being 
the  only  kind  of  bed  that  his  poverty  afforded. 

In  a  little  while  the  Moor  was  seized  with  violent  convul 
sions,  which  defied  all  the  ministering  skill  of  the  simple 
water-carrier.  The  eye  of  the  poor  patient  acknowledged,  his 
kindness.  During  an  interval  of  his  fits  he  called  him  to  his 
side,  and  addressing  him  in  a  low  voice;  "My  end,"  said  he, 
"I  fear  is  at  hand.  If  I  die  I  bequeath  you  this  box  as  a  re 
ward  for  your  charity."  So  saying,  he  opened  his  albornoz,  or 
cloak,  and  showed  a  small  box  of  sandal  wood,  strapped  round 
his  body. 

"God  grant,  my  friend,"  replied  the  worthy  little  Gallego, 
"that  you  may  live  many  years  to  enjoy  your  treasure,  what 
ever  it  may  be." 

The  Moor  shook  his  head;  he  laid  his  hand  upon  the  box, 
and  would  have  said  something  more  concerning  it,  but  his 
convulsions  returned  with  increased  violence,  and  in  a  little 
while  he  expired. 

The  water-carrier's  wife  was  now  as  one  distracted.  "  This 
comes,"  said  she,  "of  your  foolish  good  nature,  always  run 
ning  into  scrapes  to  oblige  others.  What  will  become  of  us 
when  this  corpse  is  found  in  our  house?  We  shall  be  sent  to 
prison  as  murderers ;  and  if  we  escape  with  our  lives,  shall  be 
ruined  by  notaries  and  alguazils." 

Poor  Peregil  was  in  equal  tribulation,  and  almost  repented 
himself  of  having  done  a  good  deed.  At  length  a  thought 
struck  him.  " It  is  not  yet  day,"  said  he.  "I  can  convey  the 
dead  body  out  of  the  city  and  bury  it  in  the  sands  on  the  banks 
of  the  Xenil.  No  one  saw  the  Moor  enter  our  dwelling,  and  no 


J  14  TILE  ALUAMBRA. 

one  will  know  any  thing  of  his  death."  So  said,  so  done.  The 
wife  aided  him .  they  rolled  the  body  of  the  unfortunate  Mos 
lem  in  the  mat  on  which  he  had  expired,  laid  it  across  the  ass, 
and  Mattias  set  out  with  it  for  the  banks  of  the  river. 

As  ill  luck  would  have  it,  there  lived  opposite  to  the  water- 
carrier  a  barber,  named  Pedrillo  Pedrugo,  one  of  the  most 
prying,  tattling,  mischief -making,  of  his  gossip  tribe.  He  was 
a  weasel-faced,  spider-legged  varlet,  supple  and  insinuating; 
the  famous  Barber  of  Seville  could  not  surpass  him  for  his  uni 
versal  knowledge  of  the  affairs  of  others,  and  he  had  no  more 
power  of  retention  than  a  sieve.  It  was  said  that  he  slept  with 
but  one  eye  at  a  time,  and  kept  one  ear  uncovered,  so  that, 
even  in  his  sleep,  he  might  see  and  hear  all  that  was  going  on. 
Certain  it  is,  he  was  a  sort  of  scandalous  chronicle  for  the 
quidnuncs  of  Granada,  and  had  more  customers  than  all  the 
rest  of  his  fraternity. 

This  meddlesome  barber  heard  Peregil  arrive  at  an  unusual 
hour  of  night,  and  the  exclamations  of  his  wife  and  children. 
His  head  was  instantly  popped  out  of  a  little  window  which 
served  him  as  a  lookout,  and  he  saw  his  neighbour  assist  a  man 
in  a  Moorish  garb  into  his  dwelling.  This  was  so  strange  an 
occurrence  that  Pedrillo  Pedrugo  slept  not  a  wink  that  night — 
every  five  minutes  he  was  at  his  loop-hole,  watching  the  lights 
that  gleamed  through  the  chinks  of  his  neighbour's  door,  and 
before  daylight  he  beheld  Peregil  sally  forth  with  his  donkey 
unusually  laden. 

The  inquisitive  barber  was  in  a  fidget;  he  slipped  on  his 
clothes,  and,  stealing  forth  silently,  followed  the  water-carrier 
at  a  distance,  until  he  saw  him  dig  a  hole  in  the  sandy  bank 
of  the  Xenil,  and  bury  something  that  had  the  appearance  of 
a  dead  body. 

The  barber  hied  him  home  and  fidgeted  about  his  shop,  set 
ting  everything  upside  down,  until  sunrise.  He  then  took  a 
basin  under  his  arm,  and  sallied  forth  to  the  house  of  his  daily 
customer,  the  Alcalde. 

The  Alcalde  was  just  risen.  Pedrillo  Pedrugo  seated  him  in 
a  chair,  threw  a  napkin  round  his  neck,  put  a  basin  of  hot 
water  under  his  chin,  and  began  to  mollify  his  beard  with  his 
fingers. 

"Strange  doings,"  said  Pedrugo,  who  played  barber  and 
newsmonger  at  the  same  time.  "Strange  doings!  Bobbery, 
and  murder,  and  burial,  all  in  one  night !" 

"  Hey?  how!    What  is  it  you  say 2"  cried  the<Alcald@, 


LEGEND  OF  THE  MOOR'S  LEGACY. 

"  I  say,"  replied  the  barber,  rubbing  a  piece  of  soap  over  the 
nose  and  mouth  of  the  dignitary,  for  a  Spanish  barber  disdains 
to  employ  a  brush;  "I  say  that  Peregil  the  Gallego  has  robbed 
and  murdered  a  Moorish  Mussulman,  and  buried  him  this 
blessed  night,—  maldita  sea  la  noche,— accursed  be  the  night 
for  the  same !" 

"  But  how  do  you  know  all  this?"  demanded  the  Alcalde. 

"  Be  patient,  Sefior,  and  you  shall  hear  all  about  it,"  replied 
Pedrillo,  taking  him  by  the  nose  and  sliding  a  razor  over  his 
cheek.  He  then  recounted  all  that  he  had  seen,  going  through 
both  operations  at  the  same  time,  shaving  his  beard,  washing 
his  chin,  and  wiping  him  dry  with  a  dirty  napkin,  while  he 
was  robbing,  murdering,  and  burying  the  Moslem. 

Now  it  so  happened  that  this  Alcalde  was  one  of  the  most 
overbearing,  and  at  the  same  time  most  griping  and  corrupt 
curmudgeons  in  all  Granada.  It  could  not  be  denied,  however, 
that  he  set  a  high  value  upon  justice,  for  he  sold  it  at  its  weight 
in  gold.  He  presumed  the  case  in  point  to  be  one  of  murder 
and  robbery ;  doubtless  there  must  be  rich  spoil ;  how  was  it  to 
be  secured  into  the  legitimate  hands  of  the  law?  for  as  to 
merely  entrapping  the  delinquent— that  would  be  feeding  the 
gallows:  but  entrapping  the  booty— that  would  be  enriching 
the  judge ;  and  such,  according  to  his  creed,  was  the  great  end 
of  justice.  So  thinking,  he  summoned  to  his  presence  his 
trustiest  alguazil ;  a  gaunt,  hungry-looking  varlet,  clad,  accord 
ing  to  the  custom  of  his  order,  in  the  ancient  Spanish  garb— a 
broad  black  beaver,  turned  up  at  the  sides;  a  quaint  ruff,  a 
small  black  cloak  dangling  from  his  shoulders;  rusty  black 
under-clothes  that  set  off  his  spare  wiry  form;  while  in  Ins 
hand  he  bore  a  slender  white  wand,  the  dreaded  insignia  of  his 
office.  Such  was  the  legal  bloodhound  of  the  ancient  Spanish 
breed,  that  he  put  upon  the  traces  of  the  unlucky  water-car 
rier  ;  and  such  was  his  speed  and  certainty  that  he  was  upon 
the  haunches  of  poor  Peregil  before  he  had  returned  to  his 
dwelling,  and  brought  both  him  and  his  donkey  before  the  dis 
penser  of  justice. 

The  Alcalde  bent  upon  him  one  of  his  most  terrific  frowns. 
"Hark  ye,  culprit,"  roared  he  in  a  voice  that  made  the  knees 
of  the  little  Gallego  smite  together,— "  Hark,  ye  culprit !  there  is 
no  need  of  denying  thy  guilt :  everything  is  known  to  me.  A 
gallows  is  the  proper  reward  for  the  crime  thou  hast  commit 
ted,  but  I  am  merciful,  and  readily  listen  to  reason.  The  man 
that  has  been  murdered  in  thy  house  was  a  Moor,  an  infidel, 


116  THE  ALIIAMBHA. 

the  enemy  of  our  faith.  It  was  doubtless  in  a  fit  of  religious 
zeal  that  thou  hast  slain  him.  I  will  be  indulgent,  therefore ; 
render  up  the  property  of  which  thou  hast  robbed  him,  and  we 
will  hush  the  matter  up," 

The  poor  water-carrier  called  upon  all  the  saints  to  witness 
his  innocence;  alas!  not  one  of  them  appeared,  and  if  there 
had,  the  Alcalde  would  have  disbelieved  the  whole  kalendar. 
The  water  carrier  related  the  whole  story  of  the  dying  Moor 
with  the  straightforward  simplicity  of  truth,  but  it  was  all  in 
vain  "Wilt  thou  persist  in  saying,"  demanded  the  judge, 
11  that  this  Moslem  had  neither  gold  nor  jewels,  which  were  the 
object  of  thy  cupidity?" 

"As  I  hope  to  be  saved,  your  worship, "  replied  the  water- 
carrier,  "he  had  nothing  but  a  small  box  of  sandal  wood,  which 
ho  bequeathed  to  me  in  reward  of  my  services." 

"A  box  of  sandal  wood!  a  box  of  sandal  wood!"  exclaimed 
the  Alcalde,  his  eyes  sparkling  at  the  idea  of  precious  jewels, 
"and  where  is  this  box?  where  have  you  concealed  it?" 

'An'  it  please  your  grace,"  replied  the  water-carrier,  "it  is 
in  one  of  the  panniers  of  my  mule,  and  heartily  at  the  service 
of  your  worship." 

He  had  hardly  spoken  the  words  when  the  keen  alguazil 
darted  off  and  reappeared  in  an  instant  with  the  mysterious 
box  of  sandal  wood.  The  Alcalde  opened  it  with  an  eager  and 
trembling  hand ;  all  pressed  forward  to  gaze  upon  the  treasures 
it  was  expected  to  contain;  when,  to  their  disappointment, 
nothing  appeared  within  but  a  parchment  scroll,  covered  with 
Arabic  characters,  and  an  end  of  a  waxen  taper! 

When  there  is  nothing  to  be  gained  by  the  conviction  of  a 
prisoner,  justice,  even  in  Spain,  is  apt  to  be  impartial.  The 
Alcalde,  having  recovered  from  his  disappointment  and  found 
there  was  really  no  booty  in  the  case,  now  listened  dispassion 
ately  to  the  explanation  of  the  water-carrier,  which  was  cor 
roborated  by  the  testimony  6f  his  wife.  Being  convinced, 
therefore,  of  his  innocence,  he  discharged  him  from  arrest ;  nay 
more,  he  permitted  him  to  carry  off  the  Moor's  legacy,  the  box 
of  sandal  wood  and  its  contents,  as  the  woll-merited  reward  of 
his  humanity ;  but  he  retained  his  donkey  in  payment  of  cost 
and  charges. 

Behold  the  unfortunate  little  Gallego  reduced  once  more  to 
the  necessity  of  being  his  own  water-carrier,  and  trudging  up 
to  the  well  of  the  Alhambra  with  a  great  earthen  jar  upon  his 
Ehoulder.  As  he  toiled  up  the  hill  in  the  heat  of  a  summer  noon 


LEGEND  OF  THE  MOOR'R  LEGACY.      117 

his  usual  good-humour  forsook  him.  "Dog  of  an  Alcalde!" 
would  he  cry,  ' k  to  rob  a  poor  man  of  the  means  of  his  subsist- 
ence__0f  the  best  friend  he  had  in  the  world !"  And  then,  at 
the  remembrance  of  the  beloved  companion  of  his  labours,  all 
the  kindness  of  his  nature  would  break  forth.  ' '  Ah,  donkey 
of  my  heart !"  would  he  exclaim,  resting  his  burden  on  a  stone, 
and  wiping  the  sweat  from  his  brow,  "  Ah,  donkey  of  my  heart ! 
I  warrant  me  thou  thinkest  of  thy  old  master!  I  warrant  mo 
thou  missest  the  water  jars— poor  beast !" 

To  add  to  his  afflictions  his  wife  received  him,  on  his  return 
home,  with  whimperings  and  repinings;  she  had  clearly  the 
vantage-ground  of  him,  having  warned  him  not  to  commit  the 
egregious  act  of  hospitality  that  had  brought  on  him  all  these 
misfortunes,  and  like  a  knowing  woman,  she  took  every  occa 
sion  to  throw  her  superior  sagacity  in  his  teeth.  If  ever  her 
children  lacked  food,  or  needed  a  new  garment,  she  would  an 
swer  with  a  sneer,  " Go  to  your  father;  he's  heir  to  king  Chico 
of  the  Alhambra.  Ask  him  to  help  you  out  of  the  Moor's  strong 
box." 

Was  ever  poor  mortal  more  soundly  punished,  for  having 
done  a  good  action !  The  unlucky  Peregil  was  grieved  in  flesh 
and  spirit,  but  still  he  bore  meekly  with  the  railings  of  his 
spouse.  At  length  one  evening,  when,  after  a  hot  day's  toil, 
she  taunted  him  in  the  usual  manner,  he  lost  all  patience.  He 
did  not  venture  to  retort  upon  her,  but  his  eye  rested  upon 
the  box  of  sandal  wood,  which  lay  on  a  shelf  with  lid  half 
open,  as  if  laughing  in  mockery  of  his  vexation.  Seizing  it  up 
he  dashed  it  with  indignation  on  the  floor.  ' '  Unlucky  was 
the  day  that  I  ever  set  eyes  on  thee,"  he  cried,  "or  sheltered 
thy  master  beneath  my  roof." 

As  the  box  struck  the  floor  the  lid  flew  wide  open,  and  the 
parchment  scroll  rolled  forth.  Peregil  sat  regarding  the  scroll 
for  some  time  in  moody  silence.  At  length  rallying  his  ideas, 
"Who  knows,"  thought  he,  "but  this  writing  may  be  of  some 
importance,  as  the  Moor  seems  to  have  guarded  it  with  such 
care."  Picking  it  up,  therefore,  he  put  it  in  his  bosom,  and 
the  next  morning,  as  he  was  crying  water  through  the  streets, 
he  stopped  at  the  shop  of  a  Moor,  a  native  of  Tangiers,  who 
sold  trinkets  and  perfumery  in  the  Zacatin,  and  asked  him  to 
explain  the  contents. 

The  Moor  read  the  scroll  attentively,  then  stroked  his  beard 
and  smiled.  "This  manuscript,"  said  he,  "is  a  form  of  incan 
tation  for  the  recovery  of  hidden  treasure,  that  is  under  the 


118  THIS  AL11AMBHA. 

power  of  enchantment.  It  is  said  to  have  such  virtue  that  the 
strongest  bolts  and  bars,  nay  the  adamantine  rock  itself  will 
yield  before  it." 

"Bah!"  cried  the  little  Gallego,  "what  is  all  that  to  me?  I 
am  no  enchanter,  and  know  nothing  of  buried  treasure."  So 
saying  he  shouldered  his  water- jar,  left  the  seroll  in  the  hands 
of  the  Moor,  and  trudged  forward  on  his  daily  rounds. 

That  evening,  however,  as  he  rested  himself  about  twilight 
at  the  well  of  the  Alhambra,  he  found  a  number  of  gossips  as' 
sembled  at  the  place,  and  their  conversation,  as  is  not  unusual 
at  that  shadowy  hour,  turned  upon  old  tales  and  traditions  of 
a  supernatural  nature.  Being  all  poor  as  rats,  they  dwelt  with 
peculiar  fondness  upon  the  popular  theme  of  enchanted  riches 
left  by  the  Moors  in  various  parts  of  the  Alhambra.  Above 
all,  they  concurred  in  the  belief  that  there  were  great  treasures 
buried  deep  in  the  earth  under  the  tower  of  the  Seven  Floors. 

These,  stories  made  an  unusual  impression  on  the  mind  of 
honest  Peregil,  and  they  sank  deeper  and  deeper  into  his 
thoughts  as  he  returned  alone  down  the  darkling  avenues. 
"  If,  after  all,  there  should  be  treasure  hid  beneath  that  tower 
—and  if  the  scroll  I  left  with  the  Moor  should  enable  me  to  get 
at  it !"  In  the  sudden  ecstasy  of  the  thought  he  had  well  nigh 
let  fall  his  water-jar. 

That  night  he  tumbled  and  tossed,  and  could  scarcely  get  a 
wink  of  sleep  for  the  thoughts  that  were  bewildering  his  brain. 
In  the  morning,  bright  and  early,  he  repaired  to  the  shop  of 
the  Moor,  and  told  him  alt  that  was  passing  in  his  mind. 
"You  can  read  Arabic,"  said  he,  "suppose  we  go  together  to 
the  tower  and  try  the  effect  of  the  charm;  if  it  fails  we  are  no 
worse  off  than  before,  but  if  it  succeeds  we  will  share  equally 
all  the  treasure  we  may  discover." 

"Hold,"  replied  the  Moslem,  "this  writing  is  not  sufficient 
of  itself ;  it  must  be  read  at  midnight,  by  the  light  of  a  taper 
singularly  compounded  and  prepared,  the  ingredients  of  which 
are  not  within  my  reach.  Without  such  taper  the  scroll  is  01 
no  avail." 

"Say  no  more!"  cried  the  little  Gallego.  "I  have  such  a 
taper  at  hand  and  will  bring  it  here  in  a  moment."  So  saying 
he  hastened  home,  and  soon  returned  with  the  end  of  a  yellow 
wax  taper  that  he  had  found  in  the  box  of  sandal  wood. 

The  Moor  felt  it, -ana  smelt  to  it.  "  Here  are  rare  and  costly 
perfumes,"  said  he,  "  combined  with  this  yellow  wax.  This  is 
the  kind  of  taper  specified  in  the  scroll.  While  this  burns,  th« 


LEGEND  OF  THE  MOORS  LEGACY.       119 

strongest  walls  and  most  secret  caverns  will  remain  open,-  woe 
to  him,  however,  who  lingers  within  until  it  be  extinguished. 
He  will  remain  enchanted  with  the  treasure." 

It  was  now  agreed  between  them  to  try  the  charm  that  very 
night.  At  a  late  hour,  therefore,  when  nothing  was  stirring 
but  bats  and  owls,  they  ascended  the  woody  hill  of  the  Alham- 
bra,  and  approached  that  awful  tower,  shrouded  by  trees  and 
rendered  formidable  by  so  many  traditionary  tales. 

By  the  light  of  a  lantern,  they  groped  their  way  through 
bushes,  and  over  fallen  stones,  to  the  door  of  a  vault  beneath 
the  tower.  With  fear  and  trembling  they  descended  a  flight 
of  steps  cut  into  the  rock.  It  led  to  an  empty  chamber,  damp 
and  drear,  from  which  another  flight  of  steps  led  to  a  deeper 
vault.  In  this  way  they  descended  four  several  flights,  lead 
ing  into  as  many  vaults,  one  below  the  other,  but  the  floor  of 
the  fourth  was  solid,  and  though,  according  to  tradition,  there 
remained  three  vaults  still  below,  it  was  said  to  be  impossible 
to  penetrate  farther,  the  residue  being  shut  up  by  strong  en 
chantment.  The  air  of  this  vault  was  damp  and  chilly,  and 
had  an  earthy  smell,  and  the  light  scarce  cast  forth  any  rays. 
They  paused  here  for  a  time  in  breathless  suspense,  until  they 
faintly  heard  the  clock  of  the  watch  tower  strike  midnight; 
upon  this  they  lit  the  waxen  taper,  which  diffused  an  odour 
of  myrrh,  and  frankincense,  and  storax. 

The  Moor  began  to  read  in  a  hurried  voice.  He  had  scarce 
finished,  when  there  was  a  noise  as  of  subterraneous  thunder. 
The  earth  shook,  and  the  floor  yawning  open  disclosed  a  flight 
of  steps.  Trembling  with  awe  they  descended,  and  by  the 
light  of  the  lantern  found  themselves  in  another  vault,  covered 
with  Arabic  inscriptions.  In  the  centre  stood  a  great  chest, 
secured  with  seven  bands  of  steel,  at  each  end  of  which  sat  an 
enchanted  Moor  in  armour,  but  motionless  as  a  statue,  being 
controlled  by  the  power  of  the  incantation.  Before  the  chest 
were  several  jars  filled  with  gold  and  silver  and  precious 
stones.  In  the  largest  of  these  they  thrust  their  arms  up  to 
the  elbow,  and  at  every  dip  hauled  forth  hands-full  of  broad 
yellow  pieces  of  Moorish  gold,  or  bracelets  and  ornaments  of 
the  same  precious  metal,  while  occasionally  a  necklace  of 
oriental  pearl  would  stick  to  their  fingers.  Still  they  trembled 
and  breathed  short  while  cramming  their  pockets  with  the 
spoils ;  and  cast  many  a  fearful  glance  at  the  two  enchanted 
Moors,  who  sat  grim  and  motionless,  glaring  upon  them  with 
unwinking  eyes,  At  length,  struck  with  a  sudden  panic  at 


120  THE  ALIIAMBRA. 

some- fancied  noise,  they  both  rushed  up  the  staircase,  tumbled 
over  one  another  into  the  upper  apartment,  overturned  and 
extinguished  the  waxen  taper,  and  the  pavement  again  closed 
with  a  thundering  sound. 

Filled  with  dismay,  they  did  not  pause  until  they  had 
groped  their  way  out  of  the  tower,  and  beheld  the  stars  shin 
ing  through  the  trees.  Then  seating  themselves  upon  the 
grass,  they  divided  the  spoil,  determining  to  content  them- 
selves  for  the  present  with  this  mere  skimming  of  the  jars, 
but  to  return  on  some  future  night  and  drain  them  to  the  bot 
tom.  To  make  sure  of  each  other's  good  faith,  also,  they 
divided  the  talismans  between  them,  one  retaining  the  scroll, 
and  the  other  the  taper;  this  done,  they  set  off  with  light* 
hearts  and  well  lined  pockets  for  Granada. 

As  they  wended  their  way  down  the  hill,  the  shrewd  Moor 
whispered  a  word  of  counsel  in  the  ear  of  the  simple  little 
water-carrier. 

"Friend  Peregil,"  said  he,  "all  this  affair  must  be  kept  a 
profound  secret  until  we  have  secured  the  treasure  and  con 
veyed  it  out  of  harm's  way.  If  a  whisper  of  it  gets  to  the  ear 
of  the  Alcalde  we  are  undone !" 

"Certainly!"  replied  the  Gallego;  "nothing  can  be  more 
true." 

"Friend  Peregil,"  said  the  Moor,  "you  are  a  discreet  man, 
and  I  make  no  doubt  can  keep  a  secret;  but— you  have  a 
wife — " 

"She  shall  not  know  a  word  of  it!"  replied  the  little  water- 
carrier  sturdily. 

"Enough,"  said  the  Moor,  "I  depend  upon  thy  discretion 
and  thy  promise." 

Never  was  promise  more  positive  and  sincere;  but  alas! 
what  man  can  keep  a  secret  from  his  wife?  Certainly  not 
such  a  one  as  Peregil  the  water-carrier,  who  was  one  of  the 
most  loving  and  tractable  of  husbands.  On  his  return  home 
he  found  his  wife  moping  in  a  corner. 

" Mighty  well !"  cried  she,  as  he  entered;  "you've  come  at 
last;  after  rambling  about  until  this  hour  of  the  night.  I 
wonder  you  have  not  brought  home  another  Moor  as  a  house* 
mate."  Then  bursting  into  tears  she  began  to  wring  her 
hands  and  smite  her  breast.  "Unhappy  woman  that  I  am!" 
exclaimed  she,  "what  will  become  of  me!  My  house  stripped 
and  plundered  by  lawyers  and  alguazils ;  my  husband  a  do-no- 
good  that  no  longer  brings  home  bread  for  his  family,  but 


LEGKND  OF  THE  MOOR'S  LEGACY. 

goes  rambling  about,  day  and  night,  with  infidel  Moors.  Oh, 
my  children !  my  children !  what  will  become  of  us ;  we  shall 
all  have  to  be'g  in  the  streets !" 

Honest  Peregil  was  so  moved  by  the  distress  of  his  spouse, 
that  he  could  not  help  whimpering  also.  His  heart  was  as  full 
as  his  pocket,  and  not  to  be  restrained.  Thrusting  his  hand 
into  the  latter  he  hauled  forth  three  or  four  broad  gold  pieces 
and  slipped  them  into  her  bosom.  The  poor  woman  stared 
with  astonishment,  and  could  not  understand  the  meaning  of 
this  golden  shower.  Before  she  could  recover  her  surprise, 
the  little  Gallego  drew  forth  a  chain  of  gold  and  dangled  it 
before  her,  capering  with  exultation,  his  mouth  distended 
from  ear  to  ear. 

"Holy  Virgin  protect  us!"  exclaimed  the  wife.  ''What 
hast  thou  been  doing,  Peregil?  Surely  thou  hast  not  been 
committing  murder  and  robbery !" 

The  idea  scarce  entered  the  brain  of  the  poor  woman  than  it 
became  a  certainty  with  her.  She  saw  a  prison  and  a  gallows 
in  the  distance,  and  a  little  bandy-legged  Gallego  dangling 
pendant  from  it;  and,  overcome  by  the  horrors  conjured  up 
by  her  imagination,  fell  into  violent  hysterics. 

What  could  the  poor  man  do?  He  had  no  other  means  of 
pacifying  his  wife  and  dispelling  the  phantoms  of  her  fancy, 
than  by  relating  the  whole  story  of  his  good  fortune.  This, 
however,  he  did  not  do  until  he  had  exacted  from  her  the 
most  solemn  promise  to  keep  it  a  profound  secret  from  every 
living  being. 

To  describe  her  joy  would  be  impossible.  She  flung  her 
arms  round  the  neck  of  her  husband,  and  almost  strangled 
him  with  her  caresses.  "Now,  wife!"  exclaimed  the  little 
man  with  honest  exultation,  "what  say  you  now  to  the  Moor's 
legacy?  Henceforth  never  abuse  me  for  helping  a^fellow  crea 
ture  in  distress. " 

The  honest  Gallego  retired  to  his  sheepskin  mat,  and  slept  as 
soundly  as  if  on  a  bed  of  down.  Not  so  his  wife.— She  emptied 
the  whole  contents  of  his  pockets  upon  the  mat,  and  sat  all 
night  counting  gold  pieces  of  Arabic  coin,  trying  on  necklaces 
and  ear-rings,  and  fancying  the  figure  she  should  one  day 
make  when  permitted  to  enjoy  her  riches. 

On  the  following  morning  the  honest  Gallego  took  a  broad 
golden  coin,  and  repaired  with  it  to  a  jeweller's  shop  in  the 
Zacatin  to  offer  it  for  sale ;  pretending  to  have  found  it  among 
the  ruins  of  the  Alhambra.  The  jeweller  saw  that  it  had  an 


122  THE  ALII  AMUR  A. 

9 

Arabic  inscription  and  was  of  the  purest  gold;  he  offered, 
however,  but  a  third  of  its  value,  with  which  the  water-carrier 
was  perfectly  content.  Peregil  now  bought  new  clothes  for 
his  little  flock,  and  all  kinds  of  toys,  together  with  ample  pro 
visions  for  a  hearty  meal,  and  returning  to  his  dwelling  set 
all  his  children  dancing  around  him,  while  he  capered  in  the 
midst,  the  happiest  of  fathers. 

The  wife  of  the  water-carrier  kept  her  promise  of  secrecy 
with  surprising  strictness.  For  a  whole  day  and  a  half  she 
went  about  with  a  look  of  mystery  and  a  heart  swelling  almost 
to  bursting,  yet  she  held  her  peace,  though  surrounded  by  her 
gossips,  it  is  true  she  could  not  help  giving  herself  a  few  airs, 
apologized  for  her  ragged  dress,  and  talked  of  ordering  a  new 
basquina  all  trimmed  with  gold  lace  and  bugles,  and  a  new 
lace  mantilla.  She  threw  out  hints  of  her  husband's  intention 
of  leaving  off  his  trade  of  water- carry  ing,  as  it  did  not  alto 
gether  agree  with  his  health.  In  fact  she  thought  they  should 
ah*  retire  to  the  country  for  the  summer,  that  the  children 
might  have  the  benefit  of  the  mountain  air,  for  there  was  no 
living  in  the  city  in  this  sultry  season. 

The  neighbours  stared  at  each  other,  and  thought  the  poor 
woman  had  lost  her  wits,  and  her  airs  and  graces  and 
elegant  pretensions  were  the  theme  of  universal  scoffing 
and  merriment  among  her  friends,  the  moment  her  back  was 
turned. 

If  she  restrained  herself  abroad,  however,  she  indemnified 
herself  at  home,  and,  putting  a  string  of  rich  oriental  pearls 
round  her  neck,  Moorish  bracelets  on  her  arms ;  an  aigrette  of 
diamonds  on  her  head,  sailed  backwards  and  forwards  in  her 
slattern  rags  about  the  room,  now  and  then  stopping  to  r.dmire 
herself  in  a  piece  of  broken  mirror.  Nay,  in  the  impulse  of 
her  simple  vanity,  she  could  not  resist  on  one  occasion  show 
ing  herself  at  the  window,  to  enjoy  the  effect  of  her  finery  on 
the  passers  by. 

As  the  fates  would  have  it,  Pedrillo  Pedrugo,  the  meddle 
some  barber,  was  at  this  moment  sitting  idly  in  his  shop  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  when  his  ever  watchful  eye 
caught  the  sparkle  of  a  diamond.  In  an  instant  he  was  at  his 
loop-hole,  reconnoitring  the  slattern  spouse  of  the  water-car 
rier,  decorated  with  the  splendour  of  an  eastern  bride.  No 
sooner  had  he  taken  an  accurate  inventory  of  her  ornaments 
than  he  posted  off  with  all  speed  to  the  Alcalde.  In  a  little 
while  the  hungry  alguazil  was  again  on  the  scent,  and  before 


LEGEND  OF  TIIE  MOOR'S  LEGACY.  123 

the  day  was  over,  the  unfortunate  Peregil  was  again  dragged 
into  the  presence  of  the  judge. 

"How  is  this,  villain!"  cried  the  Alcalde  in  a  furious  voice, 
"You  told  me  that  the  infidel  who  died  in  your  house  left 
nothing  behind  but  an  empty  coffer,  and  now  I  hear  of  your 
wife  flaunting  in  her  rags  decked  out  with  pearls  and  dia 
monds.  Wretch,  that  thou  art!  prepare  to  render  up  the 
spoils  of  thy  miserable  victim,  and  to  swing  on  the  gallows 
that  is  already  tired  of  waiting  for  thee. " 

The  terrified  water-carrier  fell  on  his  knees,  and  made  a  full 
relation  of  the  marvellous  manner  in  which  he  had  gained  his 
wealth.  The  Alcalde,  the  alguazil,  and  the  inquisitive  barber 
listened  with  greedy  ears  to  this  Arabian  tale  of  enchanted 
treasure.  The  alguazil  was  despatched  to  bring  the  Moor  who 
had  assisted  in  the  incantation.  The  Moslem  entered  half  fright 
ened  out  of  his  wits  at  finding  himself  in  the  hands  of  the  harpies 
of  the  law.  When  he  beheld  the  water-carrier  standing  with 
sheepish  look  and  downcast  countenance,  he  comprehended 
the  whole  matter.  "Miserable  animal,"  said  he,  as  he  passed 
near  him,  "did  I  not  warn  thee  against  babbling  to  thy 
wife?"  *• 

The  story  of  the  Moor  coincided  exactly  with  that  of  his  col 
league  ;  but  the  Alcalde  affected  to  be  slow  of  belief,  and  threw 
out  menaces  of  imprisonment  and  rigorous  investigation. 

"Softly,  good  Seiior  Alcalde,"  said  the  Mussulman,  who  by 
this  time  had  recovered  his  usual  shrewdness  and  self-posses 
sion.  "Let  us  not  mar  fortune's  favours  in  the  scramble  for 
them.  Nobody  knows  any  thing  of  this  matter  but  ourselves ; 
let  us  keep  the  secret.  There  is  wealth  enough  in  the  cave  to 
enrich  us  all.  Promise  a  fair  division,  and  all  shall  be  pro 
duced  ;  refuse,  and  the  cave  shall  remain  for  ever  closed. " 

The  Alcalde  consulted  apart  with  the  alguazil.  The  latter  was 
an  old  fox  in  his  profession.  "Promise  any  thing,"  said  he, 
' '  until  you  get  possession  of  the  treasure.  You  may  then  seize 
upon  the  whole,  and  if  he  and  his  accomplice  dare  to  murmur, 
threaten  them  with  the  faggot  and  the  stake  as  infidels  and 
sorcerers." 

The  Alcalde  relished  the  advice.  Smoothing  his  brow  and 
turning  to  the  Moor,— "This  is  a  strange  story,"  said  he,  "and 
may  be  true,  but  I  must  have  ocular  proof  of  it.  This  very 
night  you  must  repeat  the  incantation  in  my  presence.  If 
there  be  really  such  treasure,  we  will  share  it  amicably  between 
us,  and  say  nothing  further  of  the  matter ;  if  ye  have  deceived 


324  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

me,  expect  no  mercy  at  my  hands.  In  the  mean  time  you 
must  remain  in  custody. " 

The  Moor  and  the  water-carrier  cheerfully  agreed  to  these 
conditions,  satisfied  that  the  event  would  prove  the  truth  of 
their  words. 

Towards  midnight  the  Alcalde  sallied  forth  secretly,  attended 
by  the  alguazil  and  the  meddlesome  barber,  all  strongly  armed. 
They  conducted  the  Moor  and  the  water-carrier  as  prisoners, 
and  were  provided  with  the  stout  donkey  of  the  latter,  to  bear 
off  the  expected  treasure.  They  arrived  at  the  tower  without 
being  observed,  and  tying  the  donkey  to  a  fig-tree,  descended 
into  the  fourth  vault  of  the  tower. 

The  scroll  was  produced,  the  yellow  waxen  taper  lighted, 
and  the  Moor  read  the  form  of  incantation.  The  earth  trembled 
as  before,  and  the  pavement  opened  with  a  thundering  sound, 
disclosing  the  narrow  flight  of  steps.  The  Alcalde,  the  alguazil, 
and  the  barber  were  struck  aghast,  and  could  not  summon 
courage  to  descend.  The  Moor  and  the  water-carrier  entered 
the  lower  vault  and  found  the  two  Moors  seated  as  before,  silent 
and  motionless.  They  removed  two  of  the  great  jars,  filled  with 
golden  coin  and  precious  stones.  The  water-carrier  bore  them 
up  one  by  one  upon  his  shoulders,  but  though  a  strong- 
backed  little  man,  and  accustomed  to  carry  burdens,  he 
staggered  beneath  their  weight,  and  found,  when  slung  on 
each  side  of  his  donkey,  they  were  as  much  as  the  animal  could 
bear. 

"  Let  us  be  content  for  the  present,"  said  the  Moor;  uhere  is 
as  much  treasure  as  we  can  carry  off  without  being  perceived, 
and  enough  to  make  us  all  wealthy  to  our  heart's  desire. " 

"Is  there  more  treasure  remaining  behind?"  demanded  the 
Alcalde. 

"The  greatest  prize  of  all,"  said  the  Moor;  "a  huge  coffer, 
bound  with  bands  of  steel,  and  filled  with  pearls  and  precious 
stones." 

"Let  us  have  up  the  coffer  by  all  means,"  cried  the  grasping 
Alcalde. 

"I  will  descend  for  no  more,"  said  the  Moor,  doggedly. 
1 '  Enough  is  enough  for  a  reasonable  man ;  more  is  superfluous." 

* '  And  I, "  said  the  water-carrier,  ' '  will  bring  up  no  further 
burthen  to  break  the  back  of  my  poor  donkey. " 

Finding  commands,  threats,  and  entreaties  equally  vain;  the 
Alcalde  turned  to  his  two  adherents.  "Aid  me,"  said  he,  "to 
bring  up  the  coffer,  and  its  contents  shall  be  divided  between 


LEGEND   OF  THE  MOORS  LEGACY.  125 

Us;"    So  saying  he  descended  the  steps,  followed,  with  trem 
bling  reluctance,  by  the  alguazil  and  the  barber. 

No  sooner  did  the  Moor  behold  them  fairly  earthed  than  he 
extinguished  the  yellow  taper:  the  pavement  closed  with  its 
usual  crash,  and  the  three  worthies  remained  buried  in  its 
womb. 

He  then  hastened  up  the  different  flights  of  steps,  nor  stopped 
Until  in  the  open  air.  The  little  water-carrier  followed  him  as 
fast  as  his  short  legs  would  permit. 

"What  hast  thou  done?"  cried  Peregil,  as  soon  as  he  could 
recover  breath.  "The  Alcalde  and  the  other  two  are  shut  up 
in  the  vault!" 

"It  is  the  will  of  Allah!"  said  the  Moor,  devoutly. 

"And  will  you  not  release  them?"  demanded  the  Gallego. 

' '  Allah  forbid !"  replied  the  Moor,  smoothing  his  beard.  ' '  It 
is  written  in  the  book  of  fate  that  they  shall  remain  enchanted 
until  some  future  adventurer  shall  come  to  break  the  charm. 
The  will  of  God  be  done !"  So  saying  he  hurled  the  end  of  the 
waxen  taper  far  among  the  gloomy  thickets  of  the  glen. 

There  was  now  no  remedy;  so  the  Moor  and  the  water-carrier 
proceeded  with  the  richly-laden  donkey  towards  the  city:  nor 
could  honest  Peregil  refrain  from  hugging  and  kissing  his  long- 
eared  fellow-labourer,  thus  restored  to  him  from  the  clutches  of 
the  law;  and,  in  fact,  it  is  doubtful  which  gave  the  simple- 
hearted  little  man  most  joy  at  the  moment,  the  gaining  of  the 
treasure  or  the  recovery  of  the  donkey. 

The  two  partners  in  good  luck  divided  their  spoil  amicably 
and  fairly,  excepting  that  the  Moor,  who  had  a  little  taste  for 
trinketry,  made  out  to  get  into  his  heap  the  most  of  the  pearls 
and  precious  stones,  and  other  baubles,  but  then  he  always 
gave  the  water-carrier  in  lieu  magnificent  jewels  of  massy  gold 
four  times  the  size,  with  which  the  latter  was  heartily  content. 
They  took  care  not  to  linger  within  reach  of  accidents,  but 
made  off  to  enjoy  their  wealth  undisturbed  in  other  countries. 
The  Moor  returned  into  Africa,  to  his  native  city  of  Tetuan, 
and  the  Gallego.  with  his  wife,  his  children  and  his  donkey,' 
made  the  best  of  his  way  to  Portugal.  Here,  under  the  ad 
monition  and  tuition  of  his  wife,  he  became  a  personage  of  some 
consequence,  for  she  made  the  little  man  array  his  long  body 
and  short  iegs  in  doublet  and  hose,  with  a  feather  in  his  hat 
and  a  sword  by  his  side ;  and,  laying  aside  the  tamiliar  appella 
tion  of  Peregil,  assume  the  more  sonorous  title  of  Don  Pedro 
Gil,  His  progeny  grew  up  a  thriving  and  merry  -hear  ted. 


126  THE  ALIIAMBRA. 

though  short  and  bandy-legged  generation ;  while  the  SenQra 
Gil,  be-fringed,  be-laced,  and  be-tasselled  from  her  head  to  her 
heels,  with  glittering  rings  on  every  finger,  became  a  model  of 
slattern  fashion  and  finery. 

As  to  the  Alcalde,  and  his  adjuncts,  they  remained  shut  up 
under  the  great  tower  of  the  Seven  Floors,  and  there  they  re 
main  spell-bound  at  the  present  day.  Whenever  there  shall  be 
a  lack  in  Spain  of  pimping  barbers,  sharking  alguazils,  and 
corrupt  Alcaldes,  they  may  be  sought  after ;  but  if  they  have 
to  wait  until  such  time  for  their  deliverance,  there  is  danger  of 
their  enchantment  enduring  until  doomsday. 


VISITORS  TO  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

IT  is  now  nearly  three  months  since  I  took  up  my  abode  in 
the  Alhambra,  during  which  time  the  progress  of  the  season 
has  wrought  many  changes.  When  I  first  arrived  every  thing 
was  in  the  freshness  of  May ;  the  foliage  of  the  trees  was  still 
tender  and  transparent ;  the  pomegranate  had  not  yet  shed  its 
brilliant  crimson  blossoms ;  the  orchards  of  the  Xenil  and  the 
Darro  were  in  full  bloom ;  the  rocks  were  hung  with  wild  flow 
ers,  and  Granada  seemed  completely  surrounded  by  a  wilder 
ness  of  roses,  among  which  innumerable  nightingales  sang,  not 
merely  in  the  night,  but  all  day  long. 

The  advance  of  summer  has  withered  the  rose  and  silenced 
the  nightingale,  and  the  distant  country  begins  to  look  parched 
and  sunburnt ;  though  a  perennial  verdure  reigns  immediately 
round  the  city,  and  in  the  deep  narrow  valleys  at  the  foot  of 
the  snow-capped  mountains. 

The  Alhambra  possesses  retreats  graduated  to  the  heat  of  the 
weather,  among  which  the  most  peculiar  is  the  almost  subter 
ranean  apartment  of  the  baths.  This  still  retains  its  ancient 
oriental  character,  though  stamped  with  the  touching  traces 
of  decline.  At  the  entrance,  opening  into  a  small  court  for 
merly  adorned  with  flowers,  is  a  hall,  moderate  in  size,  but 
light  and  graceful  in  architecture.  It  is  overlooked  by  a  small 
gallery  supported  by  marble  pillars  and  moresco  arches.  An 
alabaster  fountain  in  the  centre  of  the  pavement  still  throws  up 
a  jet  of  water  to  cool  the  place.  On  each  side  are  deep  alcoves 
with  raised  platforms,  where  the  bathers  after  their  ablutions 


VISITORS  TO   THE  ALII  A  MB  R  A.  127 

reclined  on  luxurious  cushions,  soothe^,  to  voluptuous  repose 
by  the  fragrance  of  the  perfumed  air  and  the  notes  of  soft 
music  from  the  gallery.  Beyond  this  hall  are  the  interior 
chambers,  still  more  private  and  retired,  where  no  light  is 
admitted  but  through  small  apertures  in  the  vaulted  ceil 
ings.  Here  was  the  sanctum  sanctorum  of  female  privacy, 
where  the  beauties  of  the  harem  indulged  in  the  luxury  of 
the  baths.  A  soft  mysterious  light  reigns  through  the  place, 
the  broken  baths  are  still  there,  and  traces  of  ancient  elegance. 

The  prevailing  silence  and  obscurity  have  made  this  a  fa 
vourite  resort  of  bats,  who  nestle  during  the  day  in  the  dark 
nooks  and  corners,  and,  on  being  disturbed,  flit  mysteriously 
about  the  twilight  chambers,  heightening  in  an  indescribable 
degree  their  air  of  desertion  and  decay. 

In  this  cool  and  elegant  though  dilapidated  retreat,  which 
has  the  freshness  and  seclusion  of  a  grotto,  I  have  of  late  passed 
the  sultry  hours  of  the  day;  emerging  toward  sunset,  and 
bathing,  or  rather  swimming,  at  night  in  the  great  reservoir 
of  the  mam  court.  In  this  way  I  have  been  enabled  in  a  mea 
sure  to  counteract  the  relaxing  and  enervating  influence  of  the 
climate. 

My  dream  of  absolute  sovereignty,  however,  is  at  an  end :  I 
was  roused  from  it  lately  by  the  report  of  fire-arms,  which 
reverberated  among  the  towers  as  if  the  castle  had  been  taken 
by  surprise.  On  sallying  forth  I  found  an  old  cavalier  with  a 
number  of  domestics  in  possession  of  the  hall  of  ambassadors. 
He  was  an  ancient  Count,  who  had  come  up  from  his  palace  in 
Granada  to  pass  a  short  time  in  the  Alhambra  for  the  benefit 
cf  purer  air,  and  who,  being  a  veteran  and  inveterate  sports 
man,  was  endeavouring  to  get  an  appetite  for  his  breakfast  by 
shooting  at  swallows  from  the  balconies.  It  was  a  harmless 
amusement,  for  though,  by  the  alertness  of  his  attendants  in 
loading  his  pieces,  he  was  enabled  to  keep  up  a  brisk  fire,  I 
could  not  accuse  him  of  the  death  of  a  single  swallow.  Nay, 
the  birds  themselves  seemed  to  enjoy  the  sport,  and  to  deride 
his  want  of  skill,  skimming  in  circles  close  to  the  balconies, 
and  twittering  as  they  darted  by. 

The  arrival  of  this  old  gentleman  has  in  some  measure 
changed  the  aspect  of  affairs,  but  has  likewise  afforded  matter 
for  agreeable  speculation.  We  have  tacitly  shared  the  empire 
between  us,  like  the  last  kings  of  Granada,  excepting  that  we 
maintain  a  most  amicable  alliance.  He  reigns  absolute  over 
the  Court  of  the  Lions  and  its  adjacent  halls,  while  I  maintain 


128  THE 

peaceful  possession  of  the  region  of  the  baths  and  the  little 
garden  of  Lindaraxa.  We  take  our  meals  together  under  the 
arcades  of  the  court,  where  the  fountains  cool  the  air,  and 
bubbling  rills  run  along  the  channels  of  the  marble  pavement. 

In  the  evening,  a  domestic  circle  gathers  about  the  worthy 
old  cavalier.  The  countess  comes  up  from  the  city,  with  a 
favourite  daughter  about  sixteen  years  of  age.  Then  there 
are  the  official  dependents  of  the  Count,  his  chaplain,  his  law 
yer,  his  secretary,  his  steward,  and  others  officers  and  agents 
of  his  extensive  possessions.  Thus  he  holds  a  kind  of  domestic 
court,  where  every  person  seeks  to  contribute  to  his  amuse 
ment,  without  sacrificing  his  own  pleasure  or  self-respect.  In 
fact,  whatever  may  be  said  of  Spanish  pride,  it  certainly  does 
not  enter  into  social  or  domestic  life.  Among  no  people  are 
the  relations  between  kindred  more  cordial,  or  between  supe 
rior  and  dependent  more  frank  and  genial;  in  these  respects 
there  still  remains,  in  the  provincial  life  of  Spain,  much  of 
the  vaunted  simplicity  of  the  olden  times. 

The  most  interesting  member  of  this  family  group,  however, 
is  the  daughter  of  the  Count,  the  charming  though  almost  infan 
tile  little  Carmen.  Her  form  has  not  yet  attained  its  maturity, 
but  has  already  the  "exquisite  symmetry  and  pliant  grace  so 
prevalent  in  this  country.  Her  blue  eyes,  fair  complexion, 
and  light  hair  are  unusual  in  Andalusia,  and  give  a  mildness 
and  gentleness  to  her  demeanour,  in  contrast  to  the  usual  fire 
of  Spanish  beauty,  but  in  perfect  unison  with  the  guileless  and 
confiding  innocence  of  her  manners.  She  has,  however,  all  the 
innate  aptness  and  versatility  of  her  fascinating  country 
women,  and  sings,  dances,  and  plays  the  guitar  and  other 
instruments  to  admiration.  A  few  days  after  taking  up  his 
residence  in  the  Alhambra,  the  Count  gave  a  domestic  fete  on 
his  saint's  day,  assembling  round  him  the  members  of  his 
family  and  household,  while  several  old  servants  came  from 
his  distant  possessions  to  pay  their  reverence  to  him,  and  par 
take  of  the  good  cheer. 

This  patriarchal  spirit  which  characterized  the  Spanish  no 
bility  in  the  days  of  their  opulence  has  declined  with  their 
fortunes ;  but  some  who,  like  the  Count,  still  retain  their  an 
cient  family  possessions,  keep  up  a  little  of  the  ancient  system, 
and  have  their  estates  overrun  and  almost  eaten  up  by  genera 
tions  of  idle  retainers.  According  to  this  magnificent  old 
Spanish  system,  in  which  the  national  pride  and  generosity 
bore  equal  parts,  a  superannuated  servant  was  never  turned 


VISITORS  TO  THE  ALII A  MB R A.  129 

off,  but  became  a  charge  for  the  rest  of  his  days;  nay,  his 
children,  and  his  children's  children,  and  often  their  relations, 
to  the  right  and  left,  became  gradually  entailed  upon  the 
family.  Hence  the  huge  palaces  of  the  Spanish  nobility, 
which  have  such  an  air  of  empty  ostentation  from  the  great 
ness  of  their  size  compared  with  the  mediocrity  and  scanti 
ness  of  their  furniture,  were  absolutely  required  in  the  golden 
days  of  Spain  by  the  patriarchal  habits  of  their  possessors. 
They  were  little  better  than  vast  barracks  for  the  hereditary 
generations  of  hangers-on  that  battened  at  the  expense  of  a 
Spanish  noble.  The  worthy  Count,  who  has  estates  in  various 
parts  of  the  kingdom,  assures  me  that  some  of  them  barely 
feed  the  hordes  of  dependents  nestled  upon  them ;  who  con 
sider  themselves  entitled  to  be  maintained  upon  the  place,  rent 
free,  because  their  forefathers  have  been  so  for  generations. 

The  domestic  fete  of  the  Count  broke  in  upon  the  usual  still 
life  of  the  Alhambra.  Music  and  laughter  resounded  through 
its  late  silent  halls ;  there  were  groups  of  the  guests  amusing 
themselves  about  the  galleries  and  gardens,  and  officious  ser 
vants  from  town  hurrying  through  the  courts,  bearing  viands 
to  the  ancient  kitchen,  which  was  again  alive  with  the  tread  of 
cooks  and  scullions,  and  blazed  with  unwonted  fires. 

The  feast,  for  a  Spanish  set  dinner  is  literally  a  feast,  was 
laid  in  the  beautiful  morescohall  called  "  la  sala  de  las  dos  Her- 
manas,"  (the  saloon  of  the  two  sisters;)  the  table  groaned  with 
abundance,  and  a  joyous  conviviality  prevailed  round  the 
board ;  for  though  the  Spaniards  are  generally  an  abstemious 
people,  they  are  complete  revellers  at  a  banquet. 

For  my  own  part,  there  was  something  peculiarly  interest 
ing  in  thus  sitting  at  a  feast,  in  the  royal  halls  of  the  Alham 
bra,  given  by  the  representative  of  one  of  its  most  renowned 
conquerors;  for  the  venerable  Count,  though  un warlike  him 
self,  is  the  lineal  descendant  and  representative  of  the  "  Great 
Captain,"  the  illustrious  Gonsalvo  of  Cordova,  whose  sword 
he  guards  in  the  archives  of  his  palace  at  Granada. 

The  banquet  ended,  the  company  adjourned  to  the  hall  of 
ambassadors.  Here  every  one  contributed  to  the  general 
amusement  by  exerting  some  peculiar  talent ;  singing,  impro 
vising,  telling  wonderful  tales,  or  dancing  to  that  ail-pervad 
ing  talisman  of  Spanish  pleasure,  the  guitar. 

The  life  and  charm  of  the  whole  assemblage,  however,  was 
the  gifted  little  Carmen.  She  took  her  part  in  two  or  three 
scenes  from  Spanish  comedies,  exhibiting  a  charming  dra- 


130  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

matic  talent ;  she  gave  imitations  of  the  popular  Italian  sing 
ers,  with  singular  and  whimsical  felicity,  and  a  rare  quality  of 
voice;  she  imitated  the  dialects,  dances  and  ballads  of  the 
gipsies  and  the  neighbouring  peasantry,  but  did  every  thing 
with  a  facility,  a  neatness,  a  grace,  and  an  all-pervading  pret- 
tiness,  that  were  perfectly  fascinating.  The  great  charm  of 
her  performances,  however,  was  their  being  free  from  all  pre 
tension  or  ambition  or  display.  She  seemed  unconscious  of 
the  extent  of  her  own  talents,  and  in  fact  is  accustomed  only 
to  exert  them  casually,  like  a  child,  for  the  amusement  of  the 
domestic  circle.  Her  observation  and  tact  must  be  remark 
ably  quick,  for  her  life  is  passed  in  the  bosom  of  her  family, 
and  she  can  only  have  had  casual  and  transient  glances  at 
the  various  characters  and  traits,  brought  out  impromptu  in 
moments  of  domestic  hilarity,  like  the  one  in  question.  It  is 
pleasing  to  see  the  fondness  and  admiration  with  which  every 
one  of  the  household  regards  her :  she  is  never  spoken  of,  even 
by  the  domestics,  by  any  other  appellation  than  that  of  La 
Nina,  "the  child,"  an  appellation  which  thus  applied  has 
something  peculiarly  kind  and  endearing  in  the  Spanish  lan 
guage. 

Never  shall  I  think  of  the  Alhambra  without  remembering 
the  lovely  little  Carmen  sporting  in  happy  and  innocent  girl 
hood  in  its  marble  halls ;  dancing  to  the  sound  of  the  Moorish 
castanets,  or  mingling  the  silver  warbling  of  her  voice  with 
the  music  of  the  fountains. 

On  this  festive  occasion  several  curious  and  amusing  legends 
and  traditions  were  told;  many  of  which  have  escaped  my 
memory ;  but  of  those  that  most  struck  me,  I  will  endeavour 
to  shape  forth  some  entertainment  for  the  reader. 


LEGEND  OF  PRINCE  AHMED  AL  EAMEL; 

OR, 

THE   PILGRIM  OF  LOVE. 

THERE  was  once  a  Moorish  King  of  Granada  who  had  but 
one  son,  whom  he  named  Ahmed,  to  which  his  courtiers  added 
the  surname  of  al  Kamel,  or  the  perfect,  from  the  indubitable 
signs  of  super-excellence  which  they  perceived  in  him  in  his 
very  infancy.  The  astrologers  countenanced  them  in  their 


LEGEND   OF  PR1XCE  AHMED  AL  KAMEL.         131 

foresight,  predicting  every  thing  in  his  favour  that  could 
make  a  perfect  prince  and  a  prosperous  sovereign.  One  cloud 
only  rested  upon  his  destiny,  and  even  that  was  of  a  roseate 
hue.  He  would  be  of  an  amorous  temperament,  and  run  great 
perils  from  the  tender  passion.  If,  however,  he  could  be  kept 
from  the  aUurements  of  love  until  of  mature  age,  these  dan 
gers  would  be  averted,  and  his  life  thereafter  be  one  uninter 
rupted  course  of  felicity. 

To  prevent  all  danger  of  the  kind,  the  king  wisely  deter 
mined  to  rear  the  prince  in  a  seclusion,  where  he  should  never 
see  a  female  face  nor  hear  even  the  name  of  love.  For  this 
purpose  he  built  a  beautiful  palace  on  the  brow  of  a  hill  above 
the  Alhambra,  in  the  midst  of  delightful  gardens,  but  sur 
rounded  by  lofty  walls;  being,  in  fact,  the  same  palace  known 
at  the  present  day  by  the  name  of  the  Generaliffe.  In  this 
palace  the  youthful  prince  was  shut  up  and  entrusted  to  the 
guardianship  and  instruction  of  Ebon  Bonabbon,  one  of  the 
wisest  and  dryest  of  Arabian  sages,  who  had  passed  the  great 
est  part  of  his  life  in  Egypt,  studying  hieroglyphics  and  mak 
ing  researches  among  the  tombs  and  pyramids,  and  who  saw 
more  charms  in  an  Egyptian  mummy  than  in  the  most  tempt 
ing  of  living  beauties.  The  sage  was  ordered  to  instruct  the 
prince  in  all  kinds  of  knowledge  but  one— he  is  to  be  kept 
utterly  ignorant  of  love— "use  every  precaution  for  the  pur 
pose  you  may  think  proper,"  said  the  king,  "but  remember, 
oh  Ebon  Bonabbon,  if  my  son  learns  aught  of  that  forbidden 
knowledge,  while  under  your  care,  your  head  shall  answer  for 
A  withered  smile  came  over  the  dry  visage  of  the  wise 
Bonabbon  at  the  menace.  "Let  your  majesty's  heart  be  as 
easy  about  your  son  as  mine  is  about  my  head.  Am  I  a  man 
likely  to  give  lessons  in  the  idle  passion?" 

Under  the  vigilant  care  of  the  philosopher,  the  prince  grew 
up  in  the  seclusion  of  tne  palace  and  its  gardens.  He  had 
black  slaves  to  attend  upon  him— hideous  mutes,  who  knew 
nothing  of  love,  or  if  they  did,  had  not  words  to  communicate 
His  mental  endowments  were  the  peculiar  care  of  Ebon 
Bonabbon,  who  sought  to  initiate  him  into  the  abstruse  lore  of 
Egypt,  but  in  this  the  prince  made  little  progress,  and  it  was 
soon  evident  that  he  had  no  turn  for  philosophy. 

He  was,  however,  amazingly  ductile  for  a  youthful  prince ; 
ready  to  follow  any  advice  and  always  guided  by  the  last  coun 
cillor.  He  suppressed  his  yawns,  and  listened  patiently  to  the 
long  and  learned  discourses  of  Ebon  Bonabbon,  from  which  he 


132  THE  ALUAMBRA. 

imbibed  a  smattering  of  various  kinds  of  knowledge,  and  thus 
happily  attained  his  twentieth  year,  a  miracle  of  princely  wis 
dom,  but  totally  ignorant  of  love. 

About  this  time,  however,  a  change  came  over  the  conduct 
of  the  prince.  He  completely  abandoned  his  studies  and  took 
to  strolling  about  the  gardens  and  musing  by  the  side  of  the 
fountains.  He  had  been  taught  a  little  music  among  his  vari 
ous  accomplishments;  it  now  engrossed  a  great  part  of  his 
time,  and  si  turn  for  poetry  became  apparent.  The  sage  Ebon 
Bonabbon  took  the  alarm,  and  endeavoured  to  work  these  idle 
humours  out  of  him  by  a  severe  course  of  algebra ;  but  the 
prince  turned  from  it  with  distaste.  "  I  cannot  endure  alge 
bra,"  said  he ;  u  it  is  an  abomination  to  me.  I  want  something 
that  speaks  more  to  the  heart." 

The  sage  Ebon  Bonabbon  shook  his  dry  head  at  the  words. 
"  Here's  an  end  to  philosophy,"  thought  he.  "  The  prince  has 
discovered  he  has  a  heart !"  He  now  kept  anxious  watch  upon 
his  pupil,  and  saw  that  the  latent  tenderness  of  his  nature 
was  in  activity,  and  only  wanted  an  object.  He  wandered 
about  the  gardens  of  the  Generaliffe  in  an  intoxication  of 
feelings  of  which  he  knew  not  the  cause.  Sometimes  he 
would  sit  plunged  in  a  delicious  reverie ;  then  he  would  seize 
his  lute  and  draw  from  it  the  most  touching  notes,  and 
then  throw  it  aside,  and  break  forth  into  sighs  and  ejacula- 
tions. 

By  degrees  this  loving  disposition  began  to  extend  to  inani 
mate  objects ;  he  had  his  favourite  flowers  which  he  cherished 
with  tender;  assiduity  then  he  became  attached  to  various 
trees,  and  there  was  one  in  particular,  of  a  graceful  form  and 
drooping  foliage,  on  which  he  lavished  his  amorous  devo 
tion,  carving  his  name  on  its  bark,  hanging  garlands  on  its 
branches,  and  singing  couplets  in  its  praise,  to  the  accompani 
ment  of  his  lute. 

The  sage  Ebon  Bonabbon  was  alarmed  at  this  excited  state 
of  his  pupil.  He  saw  him  on  the  very  brink  of  forbidden 
knowledge — the  least  hint  might  reveal  to  him  the  fatal  secret. 
Trembling  for  the  safety  of  the  prince,  and  the  security  of 
his  own  head,  he  hastened  to  draw  him  from  the  seductions 
of  the  garden,  and  shut  him  up  in  the  highest  tower  of 
the  Generaliffe.  It  contained  beautiful  apartments,  and  com 
manded  an  almost  boundless  prospect,  but  was  elevated  far 
above  that  atmosphere  of  sweets  and  those  witching  bowers  so 
dangerous  to  the  feelings  of  the  too  susceptible  Ahmed. 


LEGEND   OF  PRIXCE  A1UI1W  AL  KAMEL.          133 

What  was  to  be  done,  however,  to  reconcile  Mm  to  this 
restraint  and  to  beguile  the  tedious  hours?  He  had  exhausted 
almost  all  kinds  of  agreeable  knowledge;  and  algebra  was 
not  to  be  mentioned.  Fortunately  Ebon  Bonabbon  had  been 
instructed,  when  in  Egypt,  in  the  language  of  birds,  by  a 
Jewish  Babbin,  who  had  received  it  in  lineal  transmission 
from  Solomon  the  wise,  who  had  been  taught  it  by  the  Queen 
of  Sheba.  At  the  very  mention  of  such  a  study  the  eyes  of 
the  prince  sparkled  with  animation,  and  he  applied  himself 
to  it  with  such  avidity,  that  he  soon  became  as  great  an  adept 
as  his  master. 

The  tower  of  the  Generaliff e  was  no  longer  a  solitude ;  he 
had  companions  at  hand  with  whom  he  could  converse.  The 
first  acquaintance  he  formed  was  with  a  hawk  who  had  built 
his  nest  in  a  crevice  of  the  lofty  battlements,  from  whence  he 
soared  far  and  wide  in  quest  of  prey.  The  prince,  however, 
found  little  to  like  or  esteem  in  him.  He  was  a  mere  pirate 
of  the  air,  swaggering  and  boastful,  whose  talk  was  all  about 
rapine,  and  carnage,  and  desperate  exploits. 

His  next  acquaintance  was  an  owl,  a  mighty  wise-looking 
bird,  with  a  large  head  and  staring  eyes,  who  sat  blinking 
and  goggling  all  day  in  a  hole  in  the  wall,  but  roamed  forth  at 
night.  He  had  great  pretensions  to  wisdom ;  talked  something 
of  astrology  and  the  moon,  and  hinted  at  the  dark  sciences, 
but  he  was  grievously  given  to  metaphysics,  and  the  prince 
found  his  prosings  were  more  ponderous  than  those  of  the 
sage  Ebon  Bonabbon. 

Then  there  was  a  bat,  that  hung  all  day  by  his  heels  in  the 
dark  corner  of  a  vault,  but  sallied  out  in  a  slip-shod  style  at 
twilight.  He,  however,  had  but  twilight  ideas  on  all  subjects, 
derided  things  of  which  he  had  taken  but  an  imperfect  view, 
and  seemed  to  take  delight  in  nothing. 

Beside  these  there  was  a  swallow,  with  whom  the  prince 
was  at  first  much  taken.  He  was  a  smart  talker,  but  restless, 
bustling,  and  for  ever  on  the  wing;  seldom  remaining  long 
enough  for  any  continued  conversation.  He  turned  out  in  the 
end  to  be  a  mere  smatterer,  who  did  but  skim  over  the  surface 
of  things,  pretending  to  know  every  thing,  but  knowing  noth 
ing  thoroughly. 

These  were  the  only  feathered  associates  with  whom  the 
prince  had  any  opportunity  of  exercising  his  newly  acquired 
language ;  the  tower  was  too  high  for  any  other  birds  to  fre 
quent  it.  He  soon  grew  weary  of  his  new  acquaintances 


134  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

whose  conversation  spake  so  little  to  the  head  and  nothing  to 
the  heart ;  and  gradually  relapsed  into  his  loneliness.  A  win 
ter  passed  away,  spring  opened  with  all  its  bloom,  and 
verdure,  and  breathing  sweetness,  and  the  happy  time  arrived 
for  birds  to  pair  and  build  their  nests.  Suddenly,  as  it  were, 
a  universal  burst  of  song  and  melody  broke  forth  from  the 
groves  and  gardens  of  the  Generalise,  and  reached  the  prince 
in  the  solitude  of  his  tower.  From  every  side  he  heard  the 
same  universal  theme— love— love— love— chaunted  forth  and 
responded  to  in  every  variety  of  note  and  tone.  The  prince 
listened  in  silence  and  perplexity.  "  What  can  be  this  love," 
thought  he,  ' '  of  which  the  world  seems  so  full,  and  of  which  1 
know  nothing?"  He  applied  for  information  to  his  friend  the 
hawk.  The  ruffian  bird  answered  in  a  tone  of  scorn, — "You 
must  apply,"  said  he,  "  to  the  vulgar,  peaceable  birds  of  earth, 
who  are  made  for  the  prey  of  us  princes  of  the  air.  My  trade 
is  war,  and  fighting  my  delight.  In  a  word,  I  am  a  warrior, 
and  know  nothing  of  this  thing  called  love. " 

The  prince  turned  from  him  with  disgust,  and  sought  the 
owl  in  his  retreat.  "This  is  a  bird,"  said  he,  "of  peaceful 
habits,  and  maybe  able  to  solve  my  question."  So  he  asked 
the  owl  to  tell  him  what  was  this  love  about  which  all  the  birds 
in  the  groves  below  were  singing. 

Upon  this  the  owl  put  on  a  look  of  offended  dignity.  "  My 
nights,"  said  he,  "  are  taken  up  in  study  and  research,  and  my 
days  in  ruminating  in  myself  upon  all  that  I  have  learnt.  As 
to  these  singing  birds  of  whom  you  talk,  I  never  listen  to  them. 
I  despise  them  and  their  themes.  Allah  be  praised,  I  cannot 
sing.  In  a  word,  I  am  a  philosopher,  and  know  nothing  of 
this  thing  called  love." 

The  prince  now  repaired  to  the  vault  where  his  friend  the 
bat  was  hanging  by  the  heels,  and  propounded  the  same  ques 
tion.  The  bat  wrinkled  up  his  nose  into  a  most  snappish  ex 
pression.  ' '  Why  do  you  disturb  me  in  my  morning's  nap 
with  such  an  idle  question,"  said  he  peevishly.  "I  only  fly 
by  twilight  when  all  birds  are  asleep,  and  never  trouble  myself 
with  their  concerns.  I  am  neither  bird  nor  beast,  and  I  thank 
heaven  for  it.  I  have  found  out  the  villainy  of  the  whole  of 
them,  and  hate  them,  one  and  all.  In  a  word,  I  am  a  mis 
anthrope,  and  know  nothing  of  this  thing  called  love." 

As  a  last  resort,  the  prince  was  now  sought  the  swallow,  and 
stopped  him  just  as  he  was  circling  about  the  summit  of  the 
tower.  The  swallow  as  usual  was  in  a  prodigious  hurry,  and 


LEGEND   OF  PRINCE  AHMED  AL  KAMEL.         135 

had  scarce  time  to  make  a  reply.  "  Upon  my  word,"  said  he, 
"  I  have  so  much  public  business  to  attend  to,  and'  so  many 
pursuits  to  follow,  that  I  have  had  no  time  to  think  on  the 
subject.  I  have  every  day  a  thousand  visits  to  pay ;  a  thou 
sand  affairs  of  importance  to  examine  into,  that  leave  me  not  a 
moment  of  leisure  for  these  little  sing-song  matters.  In  a 
word,  I  am  a  citizen  of  the  world.  I  know  nothing  of  this 
thing  called  love."  So  saying,  the  swallow  dived  into  the 
valley  and  was  out  of  sight  in  a  moment. 

The  prince  remained  disappointed  and  perplexed,  but  with 
his  curiosity  still  more  piqued  by  the  difficulty  of  gratifying  it. 
While  in  this  mood  his  ancient  guardian  entered  the  tower. 
The  prince  advanced  eagerly  to  meet  him.  "Oh  sage  Ebon 
Bonabbon,"  cried  he,  "  thou  hast  revealed  to  me  much  of  the 
wisdom  of  the  earth,  but  there  is  one  thing  of  which  I  remain 
in  Butter  ignorance,  and  would  fain  be  informed." 

"My  prince  has  but  to  make  the  inquiry,  and  everything 
within  the  limited  range  of  his  servant's  intellect  is  at  his  com 
mand." 

"Tell  me  then,  oh  most  profound  of  sages,  what  is  the  na 
ture  of  this  thing  called  love?" 

The  sage  Ebon  Bonabbon  was  struck  as  with  a  thunderbolt 
He  trembled  and  turned  pale,  and  felt  as  if  his  head  sat  but 
loosely  on  his  shoulders. 

"  What  could  suggest  such  a  question  to  my  prince? -where 
could  he  have  learnt  so  idle  a  word?" 

The  prince  led  him  to  the  window  of  the  tower.  "  Listen 
oh  Ebon  Bonabbon !"  said  he.  The  sage  listened.  The  night 
ingale  sat  in  a  thicket  below  the  tower  singing  to  his  paramour 
the  rose;  from  every  blossomed  spray  and  tufted  grove  arose 
a  strain  of  melody,  and  love— love -love,  was  still  the  unvary^ 
ing  theme.  "Allah  Achbar!  God  is  great!"  exclaimed  the 
wise  Bonabbon.  "  Who  shall  pretend  to  keep  this  secret  from 
the  hearts  of  men  when  even  the  birds  of  the  air  conspire  to 
betray  it?" 

Then  turning  to  Ahmed,  "  Oh  my  prince,"  cried  he,  "shut 
thine  ears  to  these  seductive  strains.     Close  thy  mind  against 
.his  dangerous  knowledge.     Know  that  this  love  is  the  cause 
the  ills  of  wretched  mortality.     It  is  this  which  pro- 
luces  bitterness  of  strife  between  brethren  and  friends;  Which 
causes  treacherous  murder  and  desolating  war.     Care  and  sor 
row,  weary  days  and  sleepless  nights,  are  its  attendants     It 
withers  the  bloom  and  blights  the  joys  of  youth,  and  brings 


136  TUB  ALHAMBRA. 

on  the  ills  and  griefs  of  premature  old  age.  Allah  preserve 
thee,  my  prince,  in  total  ignorance  of  this  thing  called  love !" 

The  sage  Ebon  Bonabbon  hastily  retired,  leaving  the  prince 
plunged  in  still  deeper  perplexity.  It  was  in  vain  he  at 
tempt  ed  to  dismiss  the  subject  from  his  mind;  it  still  con 
tinued  uppermost  in  his  thoughts,  and  teased  and  exhausted 
him  with  vain  conjectures.  "  Surely ,"  said  he  to  himself  as 
he  listened  to  the  tuneful  strains  of  the  birds,  "there  is  no 
sorrow  in  these  notes :  every  thing  seems  tenderness  and  joy. 
If  love  be  a  cause  of  such  wretchedness  and  strife,  why  are 
not  those  birds  drooping  in  solitude,  or  tearing  each  other  in 
pieces,  instead  of  fluttering  cheerfully  about  the  groves,  or 
sporting  with  each  other  among  the  flowers?" 

He  lay  one  morning  on  his  couch  meditating  on  this  in 
explicable  matter.  The  window  of  his  chamber  was  open  to 
admit  the  soft  morning  breeze  which  came  laden  with  the  per 
fume  of  orange  blossoms  from  the  valley  of  the  Darro.  The 
voice  of  the  nightingale  was  faintly  heard,  still  chanting  the 
wonted  theme.  As  the  prince  was  listening  and  sighing,  there 
was  a  sudden  rushing  noise  in  the  air ;  a  beautiful  dove,  pur 
sued  by  a  hawk,  darted  in  at  the  window  and  fell  panting  on 
the  floor ;  while  the  pursuer,  balked  of  his  prey,  soared  off  to 
the  mountains. 

The  prince  took  up  the  gasping  bird,  smoothed  its  feathers, 
and  nestled  it  in  his  bosom.  When  he  had  soothed  it  by  his 
caresses  he  put  it  in  a  golden  cage,  and  offered  it,  with  his 
own  hands,  the  whitest  and  finest  of  wheat  and  the  purest  of 
water.  The  bird,  however,  refused  food,  and  sat  drooping  and 
pining,  and  uttering  piteous  moans. 

"What  aileth  thee?"  said  Ahmed.  "Hastthou  not  every 
thing  thy  heart  can  wish?" 

"Alas,  no!"  replied  the  dove,  "  am  I  not  separated  from  the 
partner  of  my  heart— and  that  too  in  the  happy  .spring-time— 
the  very  season  of  love?" 

"  Of  love!"  echoed  Ahmed.  "  I  pray  thee,  my  pretty  bird, 
canst  thou  then  tell  me  what  is  love?" 

"  Too  well  can  I,  my  prince.  It  is  the  torment  of  one,  the 
felicity  of  two,  the  strife  and  enmity  of  three.  It  is  a  charm 
which  draws  two  beings  together,  and  unites  them  by  delicious 
sympathies,  making  it  happiness  to  be  with  each  other,  but 
misery  to  be  apart.  Is  there  no  being  to  whom  you  are  drawn 
by  these  ties  of  tender  affection?" 

' '  I  like  my  old  teacher,  Ebon  Bonabbon,  better  than  any 


LEO  END   OF  PRINCE  AHMED  AL  KAMEL.         137 

other  being;  but  he  is  often  tedious,  and  I  occasionally  feel 
myself  happier  without  his  society. " 

"That  is  not  the  sympathy  I  mean.  I  speak  of  love,  the 
great  mystery  and  principle  of  life ;  the  intoxicating  revel  of 
youth ;  the  sober  delight  of  age.  Look  forth  my  prince,  and 
behold  how  at  this  blest  season  all  nature  is  full  of  love.  Every 
created  being  has  its  mate ;  the  most  insignificant  bird  sings  to 
its  paramour ;  the  very  beetle  woos  its  lady  beetle  in  the  dust, 
and  yon  butterflies  which  you  see  fluttering  high  above  the 
tower  and  toying  in  the  air  are  happy  in  each  other's  love. 
Alas,  my  prince !  hast  thou  spent  so  many  of  the  precious  days 
of  youth  without  knowing  any  thing  of  love !  Is  there  no  gen 
tle  being  of  another  sex ;  no  beautiful  princess,  or  lovely  damsel 
who  has  ensnared  your  heart,  and  filled  your  bosom  with  a 
soft  tumult  of  pleasing  pains  and  tender  wishes?" 

" I  begin  to  understand!"  said  the  prince  sighing.  "  Such  a 
tumult  I  have  more  than  once  experienced  without  knowing 
the  cause ;  and  where  should  I  seek  for  an  object  such  as  you 
describe  in  this  dismal  solitude?" 

A  little  further  conversation  ensued,  and  the  first  amatory 
lesson  of  the  prince  \^as  complete. 

"Alas!"  said  he,  "if  love  be  indeed  such  a  delight,  and  its 
interruption  such  a  misery,  Allah  forbid  that  I  should  mar  the 
joy  of  any  of  its  votaries."  He  opened  the  cage,  took  out  the 
dove,  and,  having  fondly  kissed  it,  carried  it  to  the  window. 
"Go,  happy  bird,"  said  he,  "rejoice  with  the  partner  of  thy 
heart  in  the  days  of  youth  and  spring-time.  Why  should  I 
make  thee  a  fellow  prisoner  in  this  dreary  tower,  where  love 
can  never  enter?" 

The  dove  flapped  its  wings  in  rapture,  gave  one  vault  into 
the  air,  and  then  swooped  downward  on  whistling  wings  to 
the  blooming  bowers  of  the  Darro. 

The  prince  followed  him  with  his  eyes,  and  then  gave  way  to 
bitter  repining.  The  singing  of  the  birds  which  once  delighted 
him  now  added  to  his  bitterness.  Love!  love!  lovel!  Alas, 
poor  youth,  he  now  understood  the  strain. 

His  eyes  flashed  fire  when  next  he  beheld  the  sage  Bonab- 
bon.  "Why  hast  thou  kept  me  in  this  abject  ignorance?" 
cried  he.  "Why  has  the  great  mystery  and  principle  of  life 
been  withheld  from  me,  in  which  I  find  the  meanest  insect  is 
so  learned?  Behold  all  nature  is  in  a  revel  of  delight.  Every 
created  being  rejoices  with  its  mate.  This — this  is  the  love 
about  which  I  have  sought  instruction ;  why  am  I  alone  de- 


138  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

barred  its  enjoyment?  why  hast  so  much  of  my  youth  been 
wasted  without  a  knowledge  of  its  rapture?" 

The  sage  Bonabbon  saw  that  all  further  reserve  was  use 
less,  for  the  prince  had  acquired  the  dangerous  and  forbidden 
knowledge.  He  revealed  to  him,  therefore,  the  predictions 
of  the  astrologers,  and  the  precautions  that  had  been  taken 
in  his  education  to  avert  the  threatened  evils.  ' '  And  now, 
my  prince,"  added  he,  "my  life  is  in  your  hands.  Let  the 
king  your  father  discover  that  you  have  learned  the  passion 
of  love  while  under  my  guardianship,  and  my  head  must  an 
swer  for  it." 

The  prince  was  as  reasonable  as  most  young  men  of  his  age, 
and  easily  listened  to  the  remonstrances  of  his  tutor,  since 
nothing  pleaded  against  them.  Beside,  he  really  was  at 
tached  to  the  sage  Bonabbon,  and  being  as  yet  but  theoreti 
cally  acquainted  with  the  passion  of  love,  he  consented  to 
confine  the  knowledge  of  it  co  his  own  bosom,  rather  than 
endanger  the  head  of  the  philosopher.  His  discretion  was 
doomed,  however,  to  be  put  to  still  further  proofs.  A  few 
mornings  afterwards,  as  he  was  ruminating  on  the  battle 
ments  of  the  tower,  the  dove  which  had  been  released  by  him 
came  hovering  in  the  air,  and  alighted  fearlessly  upon  his 
shoulder. 

The  prince  fondled  it  to  his  breast.  "  Happy  bird,"  said  he, 
"who  can  fly,  as  it  were,  with  the  wings  of  the  morning  to 
the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth.  Where  hast  thou  been  since 
we  parted?" 

"In  a  far  country,  my  prince;  from  whence  I  bring  you 
tidings  in  reward  for  my  liberty.  In  the  wide  compass  of  my 
flight,  which  extends  over  plain  and  mountain,  as  I  was  soar 
ing  in  the  air,  I  beheld  below  me  a  delightful  garden  with  all 
kinds  of  fruits  and  flowers.  It  was  in  a  green  meadow  on 
the  banks  of  a  meandering  stream,  and  in  the  centre  of  the 
garden  was  a  stately  palace.  I  alighted  in  one  01  the  bowers 
to  repose  after  my  weary  flight ;  on  the  green  bank  below  me 
was  a  youthful  princess  in  the  very  sweetness  and  bloom  of 
her  years.  She  was  surrounded  by  female  attendants,  young 
like  herself,  who  decked  her  with  garlands  and  coronets  of 
flowers ;  but  no  flower  of  field  or  garden  could  compare  with 
her  for  loveliness.  Here,  however,  she  bloomed  in  secret,  for 
the  garden  was  surrounded  by  high  walls,  and  no  mortal  man 
was  permitted  to  enter.  When  I  beheld  this  beauteous  maid 
thus  young,  and  innocent,  and  unspotted  by  the  world,  I 


LEGEND   OF  PRINCE  AHMED  AL  KAMEL.         139 

thought,  here  is  the  being  formed  by  heaven  to  inspire  my 
prince  with  love. " 

The  description  was  as  a  spark  of  fire  to  the  combustible 
heart  of  Ahmed ;  all  the  latent  amorousness  of  his  tempera 
ment  had  at  once  found  an  object,  and  he  conceived  an 
immeasurable  passion  for  the  princess.  He  wrote  a  letter 
couched  in  the  most  impassioned  language,  breathing  his  fer 
vent  devotion,  but  bewailing  the  unhappy  thraldom  of  his  per 
son,  which  prevented  him  from  seeking  her  out,  and  throwing 
himself  at  her  feet.  He  added  couplets  of  the  most  tender 
and  moving  eloquence,  for  he  was  a  poet  by  nature  and  in 
spired  by  love.  He  addressed  his  letter,  "To  the  unknown 
beauty,  from  the  captive  prince  Ahmed,"  then  perfuming  it 
with  musk  and  roses,  he  gave  it  to  the  dove. 

' '  Away,  trustiest  of  messengers, "  said  he.  ' '  Fly  over  moun 
tain,  and  valley,  and  river,  and  plain;  rest  not  in  bower  nor 
set  foot  on  earth,  until  thou  hast  given  this  letter  to  the  mis 
tress  of  my  heart." 

The  dove  soared  high  in  air,  and  taking  his  course  darted 
away  in  one  undeviating  direction.  The  prince  followed  him 
with  his  eye  until  he  was  a  mere  speck  on  a  cloud,  and  grad 
ually  disappeared  behind  a  mountain. 

Day  after  day  he  -watched  for  the  return  of  the  messenger 
of  love;  but  he  watched  in  vain.  He  began  to  accuse  him  of 
forgetfulness,  when  towards  sunset,  one  evening,  the  faithful 
bird  fluttered  into  his  apartment,  and,  falling  at  his  feet,  ex 
pired.  The  arrow  of  some  wanton  archer  had  pierced  his 
breast,  yet  he  had  struggled  with  the  lingerings  of  life  to  exe 
cute  his  mission.  As  the  prince  bent  with  grief  over  this 
gentle  martyr  to  fidelity,  he  beheld  a  chain  of  pearls  round 
his  neck,  attached  to  which,  beneath  his  wing,  was  a  small 
enamelled  picture.  It  represented  a  lovely  princess  in  the 
very  flower  of  her  years.  It  was,  doubtless,  the  unknown 
beauty  of  the  garden :  but  who  and  where  was  she— how  had 
she  received  his  letter— and  was  this  picture  sent  as  a  token 
of  an  approval  of  his  passion?  Unfortunately,  the  death  of 
the  faithful  dove  left  every  thing  in  mystery  and  doubt. 

The  prince  gazed  on  the  picture  till  his  eyes  swam  with 
tears.  He  pressed  it  to  his  lips  and  to  his  heart:  he  sat  for 
hours  contemplating  it  in  an  almost  agony  of  tenderness. 
"Beautiful  image!"  said  he.  "Alas,  thou  art  but  an  image. 
Yet  thy  dewy  eyes  beam  tenderly  upon  me ;  those  rosy  lips 
look  as  though  they  would  speak  encouragement.  Vain  fan- 


140  THE  A  LH AMUR  A. 

cies !  Have  they  not  looked  the  same  on  some  more  happy 
rival?  But  where  in  this  wide  world  shall  I  hope  to  find  the 
original?  Who  knows  what  mountains,  what  realms  may 
separate  us?  What  adverse  chance  may  intervene?  Perhaps 
now,  even  now,  lovers  may  be  crowding  around  her,  while  I 
sit  here,  a  prisoner  in  a  tower,  wasting  my  time  in  adoration 
of  a  painted  shadow." 

The  resolution  of  prince  Ahmed  was  taken.  "  I  will  fly  from 
this  palace,"  said  he,  "which  has  become  an  odious  prison,  and, 
a  pilgrim  of  love,  will  seek  this  unknown  princess  throughout 
the  world." 

To  escape  from  the  tower  in  the  day,  when  every  one  was 
awake,  might  be  a  difficult  matter;  but  at  night  the  palace 
was  slightly  guarded,  for  no  one  apprehended  any  attempt  of 
the  kind  from  the  prince,  who  had  always  been  so  passive  in 
his  captivity.  How  was  he  to  guide  himself,  however,  in  his 
darkling  flight,  being  ignorant  of  the  country?  He  bethought 
him  of  the  owl,  who  was  accustomed  to  roam  at  night,  and 
must  know  every  by-lane  and  secret  pass.  Seeking  him  in  his 
hermitage,  he  questioned  him  touching  his  knowledge  of  the 
land.  Upon  this  the  owl  put  on  a  mighty  self-important  look. 

"  You  must  know,  O  prince,"  said  he,  "that  we  owls  are  of 
a  very  ancient  and  extensive  family,  though  rather  fallen  to 
decay,  and  possess  ruinous  castles  and  palaces  in  all  parts  of 
Spain.  There  is  scarcely  a  tower  of  the  mountains,  or  fortress 
of  the  plains,  or  an  old  citadel  of  a  city  but  has  some  brother, 
or  uncle,  or  cousin  quartered  in  it;  and  in  going  the  rounds 
to  visit  these  my  numerous  kindred  1  have  pryed  into  every 
nook  and  corner,  and  made  myself  acquainted  with  every 
secret  of  the  land." 

The  prince  was  overjoyed  to  find  the  owl  so  deeply  versed 
in  topography,  and  now  informed  him,  in  confidence,  of  his 
tender  passion  and  his  intended  elopement,  urging  him  to  be 
his  companion  and  counsellor. 

"Go  to!"  said  the  owl,  with  a  look  of  displeasure.  "Am  I 
a  bird  to  engage  in  a  love  affair ;  I  whose  whole  time  is  devoted 
to  meditation  and  the  moon !" 

"Be  not  offended,  most  solemn  owl!"  replied  the  prince. 
"Abstract  thyself  for  a  time  from  meditation  and  the  moon, 
and  aid  me  in  my  flight,  and  thou  shalt  have  whatever  heart 
»an  wish." 

"I  have  that  already,"  said  the  owl.  "A  few  mice  are  suffi 
cient  for  my  frugal  table,  and  this  hole  in  the  wall  is  spacious 


LEGEND   OF  PRINCE  AHMED  AL  KAMEL.         141 

enough  for  my  studies,  and  what  more  does  a  philosopher  like 
myself  desire?" 

' '  Bethink  thee,  mo.ot  wise  owl,  that  while  moping  in  thy  cell 
and  gazing  at  the  moon  all  thy  talents  are  lost  to  the  world.  I 
shall  one  day  be  a  sovereign  prince,  and  may  advance  thee  to 
some  post  of  honour  and  dignity." 

The  owl,  though  a  philosopher  and  above  the  ordinary 
wants  of  life,  was  not  above  ambition,  so  he  was  finally  pre 
vailed  upon  to  elope  with  the  prince,  and  be  his  guide  and 
Mantor  in  his  pilgrimage. 

The  plans  of  a  lover  are  promptly  executed.  The  prince  col 
lected  all  his  jewels,  and  concealed  them  about  his  person  as 
travelling  funds.  That  very  night  he  lowered  himself  by  his 
scarf  from  a  balcony  of  the  tower,  clambered  over  the  outer 
walls  of  the  Generaliffe,  and,  guided  by  the  owl,  made  good  his 
escape  before  morning  to  the  mountains. 

He  now  held  a  council  with  his  Mentor  as  to  his  future 
course. 

"  Might  I  advise,"  said  the  owl,  "I  would  recommend  you 
to  repair  to  Seville.  You  must  know  that  many  years  since  I 
was  on  a  visit  to  an  uncle,  an  owl  of  great  dignity  and  power, 
who  lived  in  a  ruined  wing  of  the  Alcazar  .of  that  place.  In 
my  hoverings  at  night  over  the  city,  I  frequently  remarked  a 
light  burning  in  a  lonely  tower.  At  length  I  alighted  on  the 
battlements,  and  found  it  to  proceed  from  the  lamp  of  an  Ara 
bian  magician.  He  was  surrounded  by  his  magic  books,  and 
on  his  shoulder  was  perched  his  familiar,  an  ancient  raven, 
who  had  come  with  him  from  Egypt.  I  became  acquainted 
with  that  raven,  and  owe  to  him  a  great  part  of  the  know< 
ledge  I  possess.  The  magician  is  since  dead,  but  the  raven 
still  inhabits  the  tower,  for  these  birds  are  of  wonderful  long 
life.  I  would  advise  you,  O  prince,  to  seek  that  raven,  for 
he  is  a  soothsayer  and  a  conjuror,  and  deals  in  the  black  art, 
for  which  all  ravens,  and  especially  those  of  Egypt,  are  re 
nowned." 

The  prince  was  struck  with  the  wisdom  of  this  advice,  and 
accordingly  bent  his  course  towards  Seville.  He  travelled 
only  in  the  night,  to  accommodate  his  companion,  and  lay  by 
during  the  day  in  some  dark  cavern  or  mouldering  watch- 
tower,  fer  the  owl  knew  every  hiding  hole  of  the  kind  in  the 
country,  and  had  a  most  antiquarian  taste  for  ruins. 

At  length,  one  morning  at  day-break,  they  reached  the  city 
of  Seville,  where  the  owl,  who  hated  the  glare  and  bustle  of 


142  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

crowded  streets,  halted  without  the  gate,  and  took  up  his 
quarters  in  a  hollow  tree. 

The  prince  entered  the  gate,  and  readily  found  the  magic 
tower,  which  rose  above  the  houses  of  the  city  as  a  palm-tree 
rises  above  the  shrubs  of  the  desert.  It  was,  in  fact,  the  same 
tower  know^n  at  the  present  day  as  the  Giralda,  the  famous 
Moorish  tower  of  Seville. 

The  prince  ascended  by  a  great  winding  staircase  to  the 
summit  of  the  tower,  where  he  found  the  cabalistic  raven,  an 
old,  mysterious,  gray-headed  bird,  ragged  in  feather,  with  a 
film  over  one  eye  that  gave  him  the  glare  of  a  spectre.  He 
was  perched  on  one  leg,  with  his  head  turned  on  one  side,  and 
poring  with  his  remaining  eye  on  a  diagram  described  on  the 
pavement. 

The  prince  approached  him  with  the  awe  and  reverence 
naturally  inspired  by  his  venerable  appearance  and  super 
natural  wisdom.  "  Pardon  me,  most  ancient  and  darkly  wise 
raven, "  exclaimed  he,  ' '  if  for  a  moment  I  interrupt  those 
studies  which  are  the  wonder  of  the  world.  You  behold  before 
you  a  votary  of  love,  who  would  fain  seek  counsel  how  to  ob 
tain  the  object  of  his  passion." 

"In  other  words,"  said  the  raven,  with  a  significant  look, 
"you  seek  to  try  my  skill  in  palmistry.  Come,  show  me  your 
hand,  and  let  me  decipher  the  mysterious  lines  of  fortune." 

"Excuse  me,"  said  the  prince,  "I  come  not  to  pry  into  the 
decrees  of  fate,  which  are  hidden  by  Allah  from  the  eyes  of 
mortals.  I  am  a  pilgrim  of  love,  and  seek  but  to  find  a  clue  to 
the  object  of  my  pilgrimage." 

"And  can  you  be  at  any  loss  for  an  object  in  amorous 
Andalusia?"  said  the  old  raven,  leering  upon  him  with  his 
single  eye.  ' '  Above  all,  can  you  be  at  a  loss  in  wanton  Seville, 
where  black-eyed  damsels  dance  the  zambra  under  every 
orange  grove?" 

The  prince  blushed,  and  was  somewhat  shocked  at  hearing 
an  old  bird,  with  one  foot  in  the  grave,  talk  thus  loosely. 
"Believe  me,"  said  he  gravely,  "I  am  on  none  such  light  and 
vagrant  errand  as  thou  dost  insinuate.  The  black-eyed  dam 
sels  of  Andalusia  who  dance  among  the  orange  groves  of  the 
Guadalquiver,  are  as  naught  to  me.  I  seek  one  unknown  but 
immaculate  beauty,  the  original  of  this  picture,  and  I  beseech 
thee,  most  potent  raven,  if  it  be  within  the  scope  of  thy  ICQ^V^ 
!iedge,  or  the  reach  of  thy  art,  inform  me  where  she  may  be 
found." 


LEGEND   OF  PRINCE  AHMED  AL  KAMEL.         143 

The  gray-headed  raven  was  rebuked  by  the  gravity  of  the 
prince.  "What  know  I,"  replied  he  dryly,  "of  youth  and 
beauty?  My  visits  are  to  the  old  and  withered,  not  the  young 
and  fair.  The  harbinger  of  fate  am  I,  who  croak  bodings  of 
death  from  the  chimney  top,  and  flap  my  wings  at  the  sick 
man's  window.  You  must  seek  elsewhere  for  tidings  of  your 
unknown  beauty." 

"And  where  am  I  to  seek,  if  not  among  the  sons  of  wisdom, 
versed  in  the  book  of  destiny?  A  royal  prince  am  I,  fated  by 
the  stars,  and  sent  on  a  mysterious  enterprise,  on  which  may 
hang  the  destiny  of  empires." 

When  the  raven  heard  that  it  was  a  matter  of  vast  moment, 
in  which  the  stars  took  interest,  he  changed  his  tone  and 
manner,  and  listened  with  profound  attention  to  the  story  of 
the  prince.  When  it  was  concluded,  he  replied,  "Touching 
this  princess,  I  can  give  thee  no  information  of  myself,  for  my 
flight  is  not  among  gardens  or  around  ladies'  bowers ;  but  hie 
thee  to  Cordova,  seek  the  palm-tree  of  the  great  Abderahman, 
which  stands  in  the  court  of  the  principal  mosque ;  at  the  foot 
of  it  you  will  find  a  great  traveller,  who  has  visited  all  coun 
tries  and  courts,  and  been  a  favourite  with  queens  and  prin 
cesses.  He  will  give  you  tidings  of  the  object  of  your 
search." 

"Many  thanks  for  this  precious  information,"  said  the 
prince.  "Farewell,  most  venerable  conjuror." 

"Farewell,  pilgrim  of  love,"  said  the  raven  dryly,  and  again 
fell  to  pondering  on  the  diagram. 

The  prince  sallied  forth  from  Seville,  sought  his  fellow- 
traveller  the  owl,  who  was  still  dozing  in  the  hollow  tree,  and 
set  off  for  Cordova. 

He  approached  it  along  hanging  gardens,  and  orange  and 
citron  groves  overlooking  the  fair  valley  of  the  Guadalquiver. 
When  arrived  at  its  gates,  the  owl  flew  up  to  a  dark  hole  in 
the  wall,  and  the  prince  proceeded  in  quest  of  the  palm-tree 
planted  in  days  of  yore  by  the  great  Abderahman.  It  stood  in 
the  midst  of  the  great  court  of  the  Mosque,  towering  from 
amidst  orange  and  cypress  trees.  Dervises  and  Faquirs  were 
seated  in  groups  under  the  cloisters  of  the  court,  and  many  of 
the  faithful  were  performing  their  ablutions  at  the  fountains, 
before  entering  the  Mosque. 

At  the  foot  of  the  palm-tree  was  a  crowd  listening  to  the 
words  of  one  who  appeared  to  be  talking  with  great  volubility. 
This,  said  the  prince  to  himself,  must  be  the  great  traveller 


144  THE  ALEAMBRA. 

who  is  to  give  me  tidings  of  the  unknown  princess.  Me 
mingled  in  the  crowd,  but  was  astonished  to  perceive  that 
they  were  all  listening  to  a  parrot,  who,  with  his  bright  green 
coat,  pragmatical  eye,  and  consequential  topknot,  had  the  air 
of  a  bird  on  excellent  terms  with  himself. 

"How  is  this,"  said  the  prince  to  one  of  the  bystanders, 
"  that  so  many  grave  persons  can  be  delighted  with  the  garrul 
ity  of  a  chattering  bird?" 

"  You  know  not  of  whom  you  speak,"  said  the  other;  "  this 
parrot  is  a  descendant  of  the  famous  parrot  of  Persia,  renowned 
for  his  story-telling  talent.  He  has  all  the  learning  of  the  East 
at  the  tip  of  his  tongue,  and  can  quote  poetry  as  fast  as  he  can 
talk.  He  has  visited  various  foreign  courts,  where  h«  has  been 
considered  an  oracle  of  erudition.  He  has  been  a  universal 
favourite  also  with  the  fair  sex,  who  have  a  vast  admiration 
for  erudite  parrots  that  can  quote  poetry." 

"Enough,"  said  the  prince,  "I  will  have  some  private  talk 
with  this  distinguished  traveller." 

He  sought  a  private  interview,  and  expounded  the  nature  of 
his  errand.  He  had  scarcely  mentioned  it  when  the  parrot 
burst  into  a  fit  of  dry  rickety  laughter,  that  absolutely  brought 
tears  in  his  eyes.  "  Excuse  my  mirth,"  said  he,  "  but  the  mere 
mention  of  love  always  sets  me  laughing." 

The  prince  was  shocked  at  this  ill-timed  merriment.  "  Is 
not  love,"  said  he,  "the  great  mystery  of  nature, — the  secret 
principle  of  life, — the  universal  bond  of  sympathy?" 

' '  A  fig's  end !"  cried  the  parrot,  interrupting  him.  ' '  Pry'thee 
where  hast  thou  learnt  this  sentimental  jargon?  Trust  me, 
love  is  quite  out  of  vogue ;  one  never  hears  of  it  in  the  company 
of  wits  and  people  of  refinement." 

The  prince  sighed  as  he  recalled  the  different  language  of  his 
friend  the  dove.  But  this  parrot,  thought  he,  has  lived  about 
court ;  he  affects  the  wit  and  the  fine  gentleman ;  he  knows 
nothing  of  the  thing  called  love. 

Unwilling  to  provoke  any  more  ridicule  of  the  sentiment 
which  filled  his  heart,  he  now  directed  his  inquiries  to  the 
immediate  purport  of  his  visit. 

"Tell  me, "said  he,  "most  accomplished  parrot,  thou  who 
hast  every  where  been  admitted  to  the  most  secret  bowers  of 
beauty,  hast  thou  in  the  course  of  thy  travels  met  with  the 
original  of  this  portrait?" 

The  parrot  took  the  picture  in  his  claw,  turned  his  head  from 
side  to  side,  and  examined  it  curiously  with  either  eye.  "  Upoi* 


LEGEND   OF  PRINCE  AHMED  AL  KAMEL.         145 

my  honour,  "  said  he,  "  a  very  pretty  face;  very  pretty.  But 
then  one  sees  so  many  pretty  women  in  one's  travels  that  one 
can  hardly— but  hold— bless  me !  now  I  look  at  it  again— sure 
enough,  this  is  the  princess  Aldegonda:  how  could  I  forget  one 
that  is  so  prodigious  a  favourite  with  me?" 

"  The  princess  Aldegonda!"  echoed  the  prince,  "and  where  is 
she  to  be  found?" 

"Softly— softly,"  said  the  parrot,  "easier  to  be  found  than 
gained.  She  is  the  only  daughter  of  the  Christian  king  who 
reigns  at  Toledo,  and  is  shut  up  from  the  world  until  her 
seventeenth  birth-day,  on  account  of  some  prediction  of  those 
meddlesome  fellows,  the  astrologers.  You'll  not  get  a  sight  of 
her,  no  mortal  man  can  see  her.  I  was  admitted  to  her  pres 
ence  to  entertain  her,  and  I  assure  you,  on  the  word  of  a  parrot 
who  has  seen  the  world,  I  have  conversed  with  much  sillier 
princesses  in  my  time." 

"A  word  in  confidence,  my  dear  parrot,"  said  the  prince. 
"  I  am  heir  to  a  kingdom,  and  shall  one  day  sit  upon  a  throne. 
I  see  that  you  are  a  bird  of  parts  and  understood  the  word. 
Help  me  to  gain  possession  of  this  princess  and  I  will  advance 
you  to  some  distinguished  post  about  court." 

"  With  all  my  heart,"  said  the  parrot;  "  but  let  it  be  a  sine 
cure  if  possible,  for  we  wits  have  a  great  dislike  to  labour." 

Arrangements  were  promptly  made ;  the  prince  sallied  forth 
from  Cordova  through  the  same  gate  by  which  he  had  entered ; 
called  the  owl  down  from  the  hole  in  the  wall,  introduced  him 
to  his  new  travelling  companion  as  a  brother  servant,  and  away 
they  set  off  on  their  journey. 

They  travelled  much  more  slowly  than  accorded  with  the 
impatience  of  the  prince,  but  the  parrot  was  accustomed  to 
high  life,  and  did  not  like  to  be  disturbed  early  in  the  morning. 
The  owl,  on  the  other  hand,  was  for  sleeping  at  mid-day,  and 
lost  a  great  deal  of  time  by  his  long  siestas.  His  antiquarian 
taste  also  was  in  the  way ;  for  he  insisted  on  pausing  and  in 
specting  every  ruin,  and  had  long  legendary  tales  to  tell  about 
every  old  tower  and  castle  in  the  country.  The  prince  had 
supposed  that  he  and  the  parrot,  being  both  birds  of  learning, 
could  delight  in  each  other's  society,  but  never  had  he  been 
more  mistaken.  They  were  eternally  bickering.  The  one  was 
a  wit,  the  other  a  philosopher.  The  parrot  quoted  poetry,  was 
critical  on  new  readings,  and  eloquent  on  small  points  of  eru 
dition;  the  owl  treated  all  such  knowledge  as  trifling,  and 
relished  nothing  but  metaphysics.  Then  the  parrot  would  sing 


146  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

songs  and  repeat  bon  mots,  and  crack  jokes  upon  his  solemn 
neighbour,  and  laugh  outrageously  at  his  own  wit;  all  which 
the  owl  considered  a  grievous  invasion  of  his  dignity,  and 
would  scowl,  and  sulk,  and  swell,  and  sit  silent  for  a  whole  day 
together. 

The  prince  heeded  not  the  wranglings  of  his  companions, 
being  wrapped  up  in  the  dreams  of  his  own  fancy,  and  the 
contemplation  of  the  portrait  of  the  beautiful  princess.  In  this 
way  they  journeyed  through  the  stern  passes  of  the  Sierra  Mo- 
rena,  across  the  sunburnt  plains  of  La  Mancha  and  Castile,  and 
along  the  banks  of  the  "  Golden  Tagus,"  which  winds  its  wizard 
mazes  over  one-half  of  Spain  and  Portugal.  At  length,  they 
came  in  sight  of  a  strong  city  with  walls  and  towers,  built  on 
a  rocky  promontory,  round  the  foot  of  which  the  Tagus  circled 
with  brawling  violence. 

''Behold,"  exclaimed  the  owl,  "the  ancient  and  renowned 
city  of  Toledo ;  a  city  famous  .for  its  antiquities.  Behold  those 
venerable  domes  and  towers,  hoary  with  time,  and  clothed 
with  legendary  grandeur ;  in  which  so  many  of  my  ancestors 
have  meditated — 

"  Pish,"  cried  the  parrot,  interrupting  his  solemn  antiquarian 
rapture,  ' '  what  have  we  to  do  with  antiquities,  and  legends, 
and  your  ancestors?  Behold,  what  is  more  to  the  purpose,  be 
hold  the  abode  of  youth  and  beauty,— behold,  at  length,  oh 
prince,  the  abode  of  your  long  sought  princess." 

The  prince  looked  in  the  direction  indicated  by  the  parrot, 
and  beheld,  in  a  delightful  green  meadow  on  the  banks  of  the 
Tagus,  a  stately  palace  rising  from  amidst  the  bowers  of  a 
delicious  garden.  It  was  just  such  a  place  as  had  been  de 
scribed  by  the  dove  as  the  residence  of  the  original  of  the  pic 
ture.  He  gazed  at  it  with  a  throbbing  heart:  "  Perhaps  at 
this  moment,"  thought  he,  "  the  beautiful  princess  is  sporting 
beneath  those  shady  bowers,  or  pacing  with  delicate  step  those 
stately  terraces,  or  reposing  beneath  those  lofty  roofs !"  As  he 
looked  more  narrowly,  he  perceived  that  the  walls  of  the  gar 
den  were  of  great  height,  so  as  to  defy  access,  while  numbers 
of  armed  guards  patrolled  around  them. 

The  prince  turned  to  the  parrot!  "  Oh  most  accomplished  of 
birds,"  said  he,  "  thou  hast  the  gift  of  human  speech.  Hie 
thee  to  yon  garden ;  seek  the  idol  of  my  soul,  and  tell  her  that 
prince  Ahmed,  a  pilgrim  of  love,  and  guided  by  the  stars,  has 
arrived  in  quest  of  her  on  the  flowery  banks  of  the  Tagus. " 

The  parrot,  proud  of  his  embassy,  flew  away  to  the  garden 


LEGEND   OF  PBINCE  AHMED  AL  KAMEL.         147 

mounted  above  its  lofty  walls,  and,  after  soaring  for  a  time 
over  the  lawns  and  groves,  alighted  on  the  balcony  of  a 
pavilion  that  overhung  the  river.  Here,  looking  in  at  the 
casement,  he  beheld  the  princess  reclining  on  a  couch,  with  her 
eyes  fixed  on  a  paper,  while  tears  gently  stole  after  each  other 
down  her  pallid  cheek.  » 

Pluming  his  wings  for  a  moment,  adjusting  his  bright  green 
coat,  and  elevating  his  topknot,  the  parrot  perched  himself 
beside  her  with  a  gallant  air ;  then  assuming  a  tenderness  of 
tone,  — 

"Dry  thy  tears,  most  beautiful  of  princesses,"  said  he,  "I 
come  to  bring  solace  to  thy  heart." 

The  princess  was  startled  on  hearing  a  voice,  but  turning 
and  sesing  nothing  but  a  little  green-coated  bird  bobbing  and 
bowing  before  her: — "Alas!  what  solace  canst  thou  yield," 
said  she,  "  seeing  thou  art  but  a  parrot?" 

The  parrot  was  nettled  at  the  question.  "I  have  consoled 
many  beautiful  ladies  in  my  time,"  said  he;  "but  let  that  pass. 
At  present,  I  come  ambassador  from  a  royal  prince.  Know 
that  Ahmed,  the  prince  of  Granada,  has  arrived  in  quest  of 
thee,  and  is  encamped  even  now  on  the  flowery  banks  of  the 
Tagus." 

The  eyes  of  the  beautiful  princess  sparkled  at  these  werds, 
even  brighter  than  the  diamonds  in  her  coronet.  "  O  sweetest 
of  parrots,"  cried  she,  "joyful  indeed  are  thy  tidings;  for  I 
was  faint,  and  weary,  and  sick  almost  unto  death,  with  doubt 
of  the  constancy  of  Ahmed.  Hie  thee  back,  and  tell  him  that 
the  words  of  his  letter  are  engraven  in  my  heart,  and  his 
poetry  has  been  the  food  of  my  soul.  Tell  him,  however,  that 
he  must  prepare  to  prove  his  love  by  force  of  arms ;  to-morrow 
is  my  seventeenth  birth-day,  when  the  king,  my  father,  holds 
a  great  tournament ;  several  princes  are  to  enter  the  lists,  and 
my  hand  is  to  be  the  prize  of  the  victor." 

Tkt  parrot  again  took  wing,  and,  rustling  through  the  groves, 
flew  back  to  where  the  prince  awaited  his  return.  The  rapture 
of  Ahmed  on  finding  the  original  of  his  adored  portrait,  and 
finding  her  kind  and  true,  can  only  be  conceived  by  those 
favoured  mortals,  who  have  had  the  good  fortune  to  realize  day 
dreams,  and  turn  shadows  into  substance.  Still  there  was  one 
thing  that  alloyed  his  transport,— this  impending  tournament. 
In  fact,  the  banks  of  the  Tagus  were  already  glittering  with 
arms,  -and  resounding  with  trumpets  of  the  various  knights, 
who  with  proud  retinues  were  prancing  on  towards  Toledo  to 


148  THE  ALHAMBEA. 

attend  the  ceremonial.  The  same  star  that  had  controlled  the 
destiny  of  the  prince,  had  governed  that  of  the  princess,  and 
until  her  seventeenth  birth-day,  she  had  been  slmt  up  from 
the  world,  to  guard  her  from  the  tender  passion,  -f  he  fame  of 
her  charms,  however,  had  been  enhanced,  rather  than  obscured 
by  this  seclusion.  Several  powerful  princes  had  contended  for 
her  alliance,  and  her  father,  who  was  a  king  or  wondrous 
shrewdness,  to  avoid  making  enemies  by  showing  partiality, 
had  referred  them  to  the  arbitrament  of  arms.  Among  the 
rival  candidates,  were  several  renowned  for  strength  and 
prowess.  What  a  predicament  for  the  unfortunate  Ahmed, 
unprovided  as  he  was  with  weapons,  and  unskilled  in  the  exer 
cises  of  chivalry.  "Luckless  prince  that  I  ami*  said  he,  "to 
have  been  brought  up  in  seclusion,  under  the  eyt  of  a  philoso 
pher!  of  what  avail  are  algebra  and  philosophy  in  affairs  of 
love !  alas,  Ebon  Bonabbon,  why  hast  thou  neglected  to  instruct 
me  in  the  management  of  arms?"  Upon  this  the  owl  broke 
silence  prefacing  his  harangue  with  a  pious  ejaculation,  £or  he 
was  a  devout  Mussulman : 

"Allah  Achbar!  'God  is  great,'"  exclaimed  he,  "in  his 
hands  are  all  secret  things,  he  alone  governs  the  destiny  of 
princes !  Know,  O  prince,  that  this  land  is  full  of  mysteries, 
hidden  from  all  but  those  who,  like  myself,  can  grope  after 
knowledge  in  the  dark.  Know  that  in  the  neighbouring  moun 
tains  there  is  a  cave,  and  in  that  cave  there  is  an  iron  table, 
and  on  that  table  lies  a  suit  of  magic  armour,  and  beside  that 
table  stands  a  spell-bound  steed,  which  have  been  shut  up  there 
for  many  generations." 

The  prince  stared  with  wonder,  while  the  owl  blinking  his 
huge  round  eyes  and  erecting  his  horns  proceeded : 

' '  Many  years  since,  I  accompanied  my  father  to  these  parts 
on  a  tour  of  his  estates,  and  we  sojourned  in  that  cave,  and 
thus  became  I  acquainted  with  the  mystery.  It  is  a  tradition 
in  our  family,  which  I  have  heard  from  my  grandfather  when 
I  was  yet  but  a  very  little  owlet,  that  this  armour  belonged  to 
a  Moorish  magician,  who  took  refuge  in  this  cavern  when 
Toledo  was  captured  by  the  Christians,  and  died  here,  leaving 
his  steed  and  weapons  under  a  mystic  spell,  never  to  be  used 
but  by  a  Moslem,  and  by  him  only  from  sunrise  to  mid-day. 
In  that  interval,  whoever  uses  them,  will  overthrow  every 
opponent. " 

' '  Enough,  let  us  seek  this  cave, "  exclaimed  Ahmed. 

Guided    by  his   legendary  Mentor,   the    prince    found  the 


LEGEND  OF  PRINCE  AHMED  AL  KAMEL.         149 

cavern,  which  was  in  one  of  the  wildest  recesses  of  those  rocky 
cliffs  which  rose  around  Toledo ;  none  but  the  mousing  eye  of 
an  owl  or  an  antiquary  could  have  discovered  the  entrance  to 
it.  A  sepulchral  lamp  of  everlasting  oil  shed  a  solemn  light 
through  the  place.  On  an  iron  table  in  the  centre  of  the 
cavern  lay  the  magic  armour,  against  it  leaned  the  lance,  and 
beside  it  stood  an  Arabian  steed,  caparisoned  for  the  field,  but 
motionless  as  a  statue.  The  armour  was  bright  and  unsullied, 
as  it  had  gleamed  in  days  of  old;  the  steed  in  as  good  con 
dition  as  if  just  from  the  pasture,  and  when  Ahmed  laid  his 
hand  upon  his  neck,  he  pawed  the  ground  and  gave  a  loud 
neigh  of  joy  that  shook  the  walls  of  the  cavern.  Thus  pro 
vided  with  horse  to  ride  and  weapon  to  wear,  the  prince  de 
termined  to  defy  the  field  at  the  impending  tourney. 

The  eventful  morning  arrived.  The  lists  for  the  combat 
were  prepared  in  the  Vega  or  plain  just  below  the  cliff-built 
walls  of  Toledo.  Here  were  erected  stages  and  galleries  for 
the  spectators,  covered  with  rich  tapestry  and  sheltered  from 
the  sun  by  silken  awnings.  All  the  beauties  of  the  land  were 
assembled  in  those  galleries,  while  below  pranced  plumed 
knights  with  their  pages  and  esquires,  among  whom  figured 
conspicuously  the  princes  who  were  to  contend  in  the  tourney. 
All  the  beauties  of  the  land,  however,  were  eclipsed,  when  the 
princess  Aldegonda  appeared  in  the  royal  pavilion,  and  for 
the  first  time  broke  forth  upon  the  gaze  of  an  admiring  world. 
A  murmur  of  wonder  ran  through  the  crowd  at  her  transcend- 
ant  loveliness;  and  the  princes  who  were  candidates  for  her 
hand  merely  on  the  faith  of  her  reported  charms,  now  felt  ten 
fold  ardour  for  the  conflict. 

The  princess,  however,  had  a  troubled  look.  The  colour 
came  and  went  from  her  cheek,  and  her  eye  wandered  with  a 
restless  and  unsatisfied  expression  over  the  plumed  throng  of 
knights.  The  trumpets  were  about  sounding  for  the  encounter 
when  a  herald  announced  the  arrival  of  a  stranger  knight,  and 
Ahmed  rode  into  the  field.  A  steeled  helmet  studded  with 
gems  rose  above  his  turban;  his  cuirass  was  embossed  with 
gold ;  his  scimitar  and  dagger  were  of  the  workmanship  of 
Fay,  and  flamed  with  precious  stones.  A  round  shield  was  at 
his  shoulder,  and  in  his  hand  he  bore  the  lance  of  charmed 
virtue.  The  caparison  of  his  Arabian  was  richly  embroidered, 
and  swept  the  ground;  and  the  proud  animal  pranced  and 
snuffed  the  air,  and  neighed  with  joy  at  once  more  beholding 
the  array  of  arms.  The  lofty  and  graceful  demeanour  of  the 


lf,0  THE  ALII  AM  BRA. 

prince  struck  every  eye,  and  when  his  appellation  was  an 
nounced,  "  The  pilgrim  of  love,"  a  universal  flutter  and  agita 
tion  prevailed  among  the  fair  dames  in  the  galleries. 

When  Ahmed  presented  himself  at  the  lists,  however,  they 
were  closed  against  him ;  none  but  princes,  he  was  told,  were 
admitted  to  the  contest.  He  declared  his  name  and  rank.  Still 
worse,  he  was  a  Moslem,  and  could  not  engage  in  a  tourney 
where  the  hand  of  a  Christian  princess  was  the  prize. 

The  rival  princes  surrounded  him  with  haughty  and  men 
acing  aspects,  and  one  of  insolent  demeanour  and  Herculean 
frame  sneered  at  his  light  and  youthful  form,  and  scoffed  at 
his  amorous  appellation.  The  ire  of  the  prince  was  roused ;  he 
defied  his  rival  to  the  encounter.  They  took  distance,  wheeled, 
and  charged ;  at  the  first  touch  of  the  magic  lance  the  brawny 
scoffer  was  tilted  from  his  saddle.  Here  thy  prince  would  have 
paused,  but  alas !  he  had  to  deal  with  a  demoniac  horse  and 
armour:  once  in  action,  nothing  could  control  them.  The 
Arabian  steed  charged  into  the  thickest  of  the  throng:  the 
lance  overturned  every  thing  that  presented ;  the  gentle  prince 
was  carried  pell-mell  about  the  field,  strewing  it  with  high  and 
low,  gentle  and  simple,  and  grieving  at  his  own  involuntary 
exploits.  The  king  stormed  and  raged  at  this  outrage  on  his 
subjects  and  his  guests.  He  ordered  out  all  his  guards — they 
were  unhorsed  as  fast  as  they  came  up.  The  king  threw  off  his 
robes,  grasped  buckler  and  lance,  and  rode  forth  to  awe  the 
stranger  with  the  presence  of  majesty  itself.  Alas,  majesty 
fared  no  better  than  the  vulgar ;  the  steed  and  lance  were  no 
respecters  of  persons :  to  the  dismay  of  Ahmed,  he  was  borne 
full  tilt  against  the  king,  and  in  a  moment  the  royal  heels  were 
in  the  air,  and  the  crown  was  rolling  in  the  dust. 

At  this  moment  the  sun  reached  the  meridian ;  the  magic 
spell  resumed  its  power.  The  Arabian  steed  scoured  across  the 
plain,  leaped  the  barrier,  plunged  into  the  Tagus,  swam  its 
raging  current,  bore  the  prince,  breathless  and  amazed,  to  the 
cavern,  and  resumed  his  station  like  a  statue  beside  the  iron 
table.  The  prince  dismounted  right  gladly,  and  replaced  the 
armour,  to  abide  the  further  decrees  of  fate.  Then  seating  him 
self  in  the  cavern,  he  ruminated  on  the  desperate  state  to 
which  this  bedeviled  steed  and  armour  had  reduced  him. 
Never  should  he  dare  to  show  his  face  at  Toledo,  after  inflict 
ing  such  disgrace  upon  its  chivalry,  and  such  an  outrage  on 
its  king.  What,  too,  would  the  princess  think  of  so  rude  and 
riotous  an  achievement?  Full  of  anxiety,  he  sent  forth  his 


LEOENL    OF  FRINGE  AHMED  AL  KANEL.         151 

winged  messengers  to  gather  tidings.  The  parrot  resorted  to 
all  the  public  places  and  crowded  resorts  of  the  city,  and 
soon  returned  with  a  world  of  gossip.  All  Toledo  was  in  con 
sternation.  The  princess  had  been  borne  off  senseless  to  the 
palace ;  the  tournament  had  ended  in  confusion ;  every  one  was 
talking  of  the  sudden  apparition,  prodigious  exploits,  and 
strange  disappearance  of  the  Moslem  knight.  Some  pro 
nounced  him  a  Moorish  magician ;  others  thought  him  a  demon 
who  had  assumed  a  human  shape ;  while  others  related  tradi 
tions  of  enchanted  warriors  hidden  in  the  caves  of  the  moun 
tains,  and  thought  it  might  be  one  of  these,  who  had  made  a 
sudden  irruption  from  his  den.  All  agreed  that  no  mere  ordi 
nary  mortal  could  have  wrought  such  wonders,  or  unhorsed 
such  accomplished  and  stalwart  Christian  warriors. 

The  owl  flew  forth  at  night,  and  hovered  about  the  dusky 
city,  perching  on  the  roofs  and  chimneys.  He  then  wheeled 
his  flight  up  to  the  royal  palace,  which  stood  on  the  rocky 
summit  of  Toledo,  and  went  prowling  about  its  terraces  and 
battlements,  eaves-dropping  at  every  cranny,  and  glaring  in 
with  his  big  goggling  eyes  at  every  window  where  there  was  a 
light,  so  as  to  throw  two  or  three  maids  of  honour  into  fits.  It 
was  not  until  the  gray  dawn  began  to  peer  above  the  moun 
tains  that  he  returned  from  his  mousing  expedition,  and  re 
lated  to  the  prince  what  he  had  seen. 

"  As  I  was  prying  about  one  of  the  loftiest  towers  of  the  pal 
ace,"  said  he,  "I  beheld  through  a  casement  a  beautiful  prin 
cess.  She  was  reclining  on  a  couch,  with  attendants  and  phy 
sicians  around  her,  but  she  would  none  of  their  ministry  and 
relief.  When  they  retired,  I  beheld  her  draw  forth  a  letter 
from  her  bosom,  and  read,  and  kiss  it,  and  give  way  to  loud 
lamentations ;  at  which,  philosopher  as  I  am,  I  could  not  but 
be  greatly  moved." 

The  tender  heart  of  Ahmed  was  distressed  at  these  tidings. 
"  Too  true  were  thy  words,  oh  sage  Ebon  Bonabbon!"  cried  he. 
' '  Care  and  sorrow,  and  sleepless  nights  are  the  lot  of  lovers. 
Allah  preserve  the  princess  from  the  blighting  influence  of  this 
thing  called  love." 

Further  intelligence  from  Toledo  corroborated  the  report  of 
the  owl.  The  city  was  a  prey  to  uneasiness  and  alarm.  The 
princess  was  conveyed  to  the  highest  tower  of  the  palace,  every 
avenue  to  which  was  strongly  guarded.  In  the  mean  time,  a 
devouring  melancholy  had  seized  upon  her,  of  which  no  one 
could  divine  the  cause.  She  refused  food,  and  turned  a  deaf 


152 

ear  to  every  consolation.  The  most  skilful  physicians  had  es 
sayed  their  art  in  vain ;  it  was  thought  some  magic  spell  had 
been  practised  upon  her,  and  the  king  made  proclamation,  de 
claring  that  whoever  should  effect  her  cure,  should  receive  the 
richest  jewel  in  the  royal  treasury. 

When  the  owl,  who  was  dozing  in  a  corner,  heard  of  this 
proclamation,  he  rolled  his  large  eyes  and  looked  more  mys 
terious  than  ever. 

"Allah  Achbar!"  exclaimed  he.  "Happy  the  man  that 
shall  effect  that  cure,  should  he  but  know  what  to  choose  from 
the  royal  treasury." 

"What  mean  you,  most  reverend  owl?"  said  Ahmed. 

"  Hearken,  O  prince,  to  what  I  shall  relate.  We  owls,  you 
must  know,  are  a  learned  body,  and  much  given  to  .dark  and 
dusty  research.  During  my  late  prowling  at  night  about  the 
domes  and  turrets  of  Toledo,  I  discovered  a  college  of  antiqua 
rian  owls,  who  hold  their  meetings  in  a  great  vaulted  tower 
where  the  royal  treasure  is  deposited.  Here  they  were  discuss 
ing  the  forms  and  inscriptions,  and  designs  of  ancient  gems  ana 
jewels,  and  of  golden  and  silver  vessels,  heaped  up  in  the  trea 
sury,  the  fashion  of  every  country  and  age :  but  mostly  they 
were  interested  about  certain  reliques  and  talismans,  that  have 
remained  in  the  treasury  since  the  time  of  Roderick  the  Goth. 
Among  these,  was  a  box  of  shittim  wood,  secured  by  bands  of 
steel  of  oriental  workmanship,  and  inscribed  with  mystic 
characters  known  only  to  the  learned  few.  This  box  and  its 
inscription  had  occupied  the  college  for  several  sessions,  and 
had  caused  much  long  and  grave  dispute.  At  the  time  of  my 
visit,  a  very  ancient  owl,  who  had  recently  arrived  from  Egypt, 
was  seated  on  the  lid  of  the  box  lecturing  upon  the  inscription, 
and  proved  from  it,  that  the  coffer  contained  the  silken  carpet 
of  the  throne  of  Solomon  the  wise :  which  doubtless  had  been 
brought  to  Toledo  by  the  Jews,  who  took  refuge  there  after  the 
downfall  of  Jerusalem." 

When  the  owl  had  concluded  his  antiquarian  harangue,  the 
prince  remained  for  a  time  absorbed  in  thought.  "I  have 
heard,"  said  he,  "from  the  sage  Ebon  Bonabbon,  of  the  won 
derful  properties  of  that  talisman,  which  disappeared  at  the 
fall  of  Jerusalem,  and  was  supposed  to  be  lost  to  mankind. 
Doubtless  it  remains  a  sealed  mystery  to  the  Christians  of 
Toledo.  If  I  can  get  possession  of  that  carpet,  my  fortune  is 
secure. " 

The  next  day  the  prince  laid  aside  his  rich  attire,  and  ar- 


LEGEND   OF  PRINCE  AHMED  AL  KAMEL.         153 

rayed  himself  in  the  simple  garb  of  an  Arab  of  the  desert.  He 
dyed  his  complexion  to  a  tawny  hue,  and  no  one  could  have 
recognized  in  him  the  splendid  warrior  who  had  caused  such 
admiration  and  dismay  at  the  tournament.  With  staff  in 
hand  and  scrip  by  his  side,  and  a  small  pastoral  reed,  he  re 
paired  to  Toledo,  and  presenting  himself  at  the  gate  of  the 
royal  palace,  announced  himself  as  a  candidate  for  the  reward 
offered  for  the  cure  of  the  princess,  The  guards  would  have 
driven  him  away  with  blows :  ' '  What  can  a  vagrant  Arab  like 
thyself  pretend  to  do,"  said  they,  "in  a  case  where  the  most 
learned  of  the  land  have  failed?"  The  king,  however,  over 
heard  the  tumult,  and  ordered  the  Arab  to  be  brought  into  his 
presence. 

"  Most  potent  king,"  said  Ahmed,  "  you  behold  before  you  a 
Bedouin  Arab,  the  greater  part  of  whose  life  has  been  passed 
in  the  solitudes  of  the  desert.  Those  solitudes,  it  is  well 
known,  are  the  haunts  of  demons  and  evil  spirits,  who  beset 
us  poor  shepherds  in  our  lonely  watchings,  enter  into  and  pos 
sess  our  flocks  and  herds,  and  sometimes  render  even  the 
patient  camel  furious.  Against  these,  our  countercharm  is 
music ;  and  we  have  legendary  airs  handed  down  from  genera 
tion  to  generation,  that  we  chant  and  pipe  to  cast  forth  these 
evil  spirits.  I  am  of  a  gifted  line,  and  possess  this  power  in  its 
fullest  force.  If  it  be  any  evil  influence  of  the  kind  that  holds 
a  spell  over  thy  daughter,  I  pledge  my  head  to  free  her  from 
its  sway." 

The  king,  who  was  a  man  of  understanding,  and  knew  the 
wonderful  secrets  possessed  by  the  Arabs,  was  inspired  with 
hope  by  the  confident  language  of  the  prince.  He  conducted 
him  immediately  to  the  lofty  tower  secured  by  several  doors, 
in  the  summit  of  which  was  the  chamber  of  the  princess.  The 
windows  opened  upon  a  terrace  with  balustrades,  commanding 
a  view  over  Toledo  and  all  the  surrounding  country.  The  win 
dows  were  darkened,  for  the  princess  lay  within,  a  prey  to  a 
devouring  grief  that  refused  all  alleviation. 

The  prince  seated  himself  on  the  terrace,  and  performed  sev 
eral  wild  Arabian  airs  on  his  pastoral  pipe,  which  he  had  learnt 
from  his  attendants  in  the  Generalise  at  Granada.  The  prin 
cess  continued  insensible,  and  the  doctors,  who  were  present, 
Bhook  their  heads,  and  smiled  with  incredibility  and  contempt. 
At  length  the  prince  laid  aside  the  reed,  and  to  a  simple  melody 
chanted  the  amatory  verses  of  the  letter  which  had  declared 
his  passion. 


154  THE  ALUAMBRA. 

The  princess  recognized  the  strain.  A  fluttering  joy  stole  to 
her  heart ;  she  raised  her  head  and  listened ;  tears  rushed  to 
her  eyes  and  streamed  down  her  cheeks ;  her  bosom  rose  and 
fell  with  a  tumult  of  emotions.  She  would  have  asked  for  the 
minstrel  to  be  brought  into  her  presence,  but  maiden  coyness 
held  her  silent.  The  king  read  her  wishes,  and  at  his  com 
mand  Ahmed  was  conducted  into  the  chamber.  The  lovers 
were  discreet :  they  but  exchanged  glances,  yet  those  glances 
spoke  volumes.  Never  was  triumph  of  music  more  complete. 
The  rose  had  returned  to  the  soft  cheek  of  the  princess,  the 
freshness  to  her  lip,  and  the  dewy  light  to  her  languishing  eye. 

All  the  physicians  present  stared  at  each  other  with  aston 
ishment.  The  king  regarded  the  Arab  minstrel  with  admira 
tion,  mixt  with  awe.  "Wonderful  youth,"  exclaimed  he, 
"thou  shalt  henceforth  be  the  first  physician  of  my  court, 
and  no  other  prescription  will  I  take  but  thy  melody.  For  the 
present,  receive  thy  reward,  the  most  precious  jewel  in  my 
treasury." 

"O  king,"  replied  Ahmed,  "  I  care  not  for  silver,  or  gold,  or 
precious  stones.  One  relique  hast  thou  in  thy  treasury,  handed 
down  from  tlie  Moslems  who  once  owned  Toledo.  A  box  of 
sandal  wood  containing  a  silken  carpet.  Give  me  that  box, 
and  I  am  content." 

All  present  were  surprised  at  the  moderation  of  the  Arab ; 
and  still  more,  when  the  box  of  sandal  wood  was  brought  and 
the  carpet  drawn  forth.  It  was  of  fine  green  silk,  covered 
with  Hebrew  and  Chaldaic  characters.  The  court  physicians 
looked  at  each  other,  shrugged  their  shoulders,  and  smiled  at 
the  simplicity  of  this  new  practitioner,  who  could  be  content 
with  so  paltry  a  fee. 

"This  carpet,"  said  the  prince,  " once  covered  the  throne  of 
Solomon  the  wise ;  it  is  worthy  of  being  placed  beneath  the  feet 
of  beauty." 

So  saying,  he  spread  it  on  the  terrace  beneath  an  ottoman 
that  had  been  brought  forth  for  the  princess;  then  seating 
himself  at  her  feet,— 

"Who,"  said  he,  "shall  counteract  what  is  written  in  the 
book  of  fate?  Behold  the  prediction  of  the  astrologers  verified. 
Know,  oh  king,  that  your  daughter  and  I  have  long  loved  each 
other  in  secret.  Behold  in  me  the  pilgrim  of  love. " 

These  words  were  scarcely  from  his  lips,  when  the  carpet 
rose  in  the  air,  bearing  off  the  prince  and  princess.  The  king 
and  the  physicians  gazed  after  it  with  open  mouths  and  strain- 


LEGEND   OF  PRINCE  AHMED  AL  KAMEL. 

ing  eyes,  until  it  became  a  little  speck  on  the  white  bosom  of  a 
cloud,  and  then  disappeared  in  the  blue  vault  of  heaven. 

The  king  in  a  rage  summoned  his  treasurer.  ' '  How  is  this, " 
said  he,  ' '  that  thou  hast  suffered  an  infidel  to  get  possession  of 
such  a  talisman?" 

"Alas!  sire,  we  knew  not  its  nature,  nor  could  we  decipher 
the  inscription  of  the  box.  If  it  be  indeed  the  carpet  of  the 
throne  of  the  wise  Solomon,  it  is  possessed  of  magic  power, 
and  can  transport  its  owner  from  place  to  place  through  the 
air." 

The  king  assembled  a  mighty  army,  and  set  off  for  Granada 
in  pursuit  of  the  fugitives.  His  march  was  long  and  toilsome. 
Encamping  in  the  Vega,  he  sent  a  herald  to  demand  restitu 
tion  of  his  daughter.  The  king  himself  came  forth  with  all 
his  court  to  meet  him.  In  the  king,  he  beheld  the  Arab  min 
strel,  for  Ahmed  had  succeeded  to  the  throne  on  the  death  of 
his  father,  and  the  beautiful  Aldegonda  was  his  Sultana, 

The  Christian  king  was  easily  pacified,  when  he  found  that 
his  daughter  was  suffered  to  continue  in  her  faith :  not  that  he 
was  particularly  pious ;  but  religion  is  always  a  point  of  pride 
and  etiquette  with  princes.  Instead  of  bloody  battles,  there 
was  a  succession  of  feasts  and  rejoicings ;  after  which,  the  king 
returned  well  pleased  to  Toledo,  and  the  youthful  couple  con 
tinued  to  reign  as  happily  as  wisely,  in  the  Alhambra. 

It  is  proper  to  add,  that  the  owl  and  the  parrot  had  severally 
followed  the  prince  by  easy  stages  to  Granada:  the  former 
travelling  by  night,  and  stopping  at  the  various  hereditary 
possessions  of  his  family ;  the  latter  figuring  in  the  gay  circles 
of  every  town  and  city  on  his  route. 

Ahmed  gratefully  requited  the  services  which  they  had  ren 
dered  him  on  his  pilgrimage.  He  appointed  the  owl  his  prime 
minister ;  the  parrot  his  master  of  ceremonies.  It  is  needless 
to  say  that  never  was  a  realm  more  sagely  administered,  or  a 
court  conducted  with  more  exact  punctilio. 


156  THE  A  LH AM  BRA. 


THE  LEGEND  OF  THE  ROSE  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA; 

OR, 

THE  PAGE  AND  THE  GER-FALCON. 

FOR  some  time  after  the  surrender  of  Granada  by  the  Moors, 
that  delightful  city  was  a  trequent  and  favourite  residence  of 
the  Spanish  sovereigns,  until  they  were  frightened  away  by 
successive  shocks  of  earthquakes,  which  toppled  down  various 
houses  and  made  the  old  Moslem  towers  rock  to  their  founda 
tion. 

Many,  many  years  then  rolled  away,  during  which  Granada 
was  rarely  honoured  by  a  royal  guest.  The  palaces  of  the 
nobility  remained  silent  and  shut  up;  and  the  Alhambra,  like 
a  slighted  beauty,  sat  in  mournful  desolation  among'  her 
neglected  gardens.  The  tower  of  the  Infantas,  once  the  resi 
dence  of  the  three  beautiful  Moorish  princesses,  partook  of  the 
general  desolation;  and  the  spider  spun  her  web  athwart  the 
gilded  vault,  and  bats  and  owls  nestled  in  those  chambers  that 
had  been  graced  by  the  presence  of  Zayda,  Zorayda,  and  Zora- 
hayda.  The  neglect  of  the  tower  may  partly  have  been  owing 
to  some  superstitious  notions  of  the  neighbours.  It  was 
rumoured  that  the  spirit  of  the  youthful  Zorahayda,  who  had 
perished  in  that  tower,  was  often  seen  by  moonlight,  seated 
beside  the  fountain  in  the  hall,  or  moaning  about  the  battle 
ments,  and  that  the  notes  of  her  silver  lute  would  be  heard  at 
midnight  by  wayfarers  passing  along  the  glen. 

At  length  the  city  of  Granada  was  once  more  enlivened  by 
the  royal  presence.  All  the  world  knows  that  Philip  V.  was 
the  first  Bourbon  that  swayed  the  Spanish  sceptre.  All  the 
world  knows  that  he  married,  in  second  nuptials,  Elizabetta  or 
Isabella,  (for  they  are  the  same,)  the  beautiful  princess  of  Par 
ma  ;  and  all  the  world  knows,  that  by  this  chain  of  contingen 
cies,  a  French  prince  and  an  Italian  princess  were  seated  to 
gether  on  the  Spanish  throne.  For  the  reception  of  this  illustri 
ous  pair,  the  Alhambra  was  repaired  and  fitted  up  with  all  pos 
sible  expedition.  The  arrival  of  the  court  changed  the  whole 
aspect  of  the  lately  deserted  place.  The  clangour  of  drum  and 
trumpet,  the  tramp  of  steed  about  the  avenues  and  outer 


THE  LEGEND   OF   THE  ROXE  OP  THE  ALHAMBRA.  \Ffi 

court,  the  glitter  of  arms  and  display  of  banners  about  barbi 
can  and  battlement,  recalled  the  ancient  and  warlike  glories  of 
the  fortress.  A  softer  spirit,  however,  reigned  within  the  royal 
palace.  There  was  the  rustling  of  robes,  and  the  cautious 
tread  and  murmuring  voice  of  reverential  courtiers  about  the 
antechambers ;  a  loitering  of  pages  and  maids  of  honour  about 
the  gardens,  and  the  sound  of  music  stealing  from  open  case 
ments. 

Among  those  who  attended  in  the  train  of  the  monarchs,  was 
a  favourite  page  of  the  queen,  named  Ruyz  de  Alarcon.  To 
say  that  he  was  a  favourite  page  of  the  queen,  was  at  once  to 
speak  his  eulogium,  for  every  one  in  the  suite  of  the  stately 
Elizabetta  was  chosen  for  grace,  and  beauty,  and  accomplish 
ments.  He  was  just  turned  of  eighteen,  light  and  little  ot 
form,  and  graceful  as  a  young  Antinous.  To  the  queen  he  was 
all  deference  and  respect,  yet  he  was  at  heart  a  roguish  strip 
ling,  petted  and  spoiled  by  the  ladies  about  the  court,  and 
experienced  in  the  ways  of  women  tar  beyond  his  years. 

This  loitering  page  was  one  morning  rambling  about  the 
groves  of  the  Generalise,  which  overlook  the  grounds  of  the 
Alhambra.  He  had  taken  with  him  for  his  amusement,,  a 
favourite  ger-f alcon  of  the  queen.  In  the  course  of  his  rambles, 
seeing  a  bird  rising  from  a  thicket,  he  unhooded  the  hawk  and 
let  him  fly.  The  falcon  towered  high  in  the  air,  made  a  swoop 
at  his  quarry,  but  missing  it,  soared  away  regardless  of  the  calls 
of  the  page.  The  latter  followed  the  truant  bird  with  his  eye 
in  its  capricious  flight,  until  he  saw  it  alight  upon  the  battle 
ments  of  a  remote  and  lonely  tower,  in  the  outer  wall  of  the 
Alhambra,  built  on  the  edge  of  a  ravine  that  separated  the 
royal  fortress  from  the  grounds  of  the  G-eneraliffe.  It  was,  in 
fact,  the  "tower  of  the  Princesses." 

The  page  descended  into  the  ravine,  and  approached  the 
tower,  but  it  had  no  entrance  from  the  glen,  and  its  lofty  height 
rendered  any  attempt  to  scale  it  fruitless.  Seeking  one  of  the 
gates  of  the  fortress,  therefore,  he  made  a  wide  circuit  to  that 
side  of  the  tower  facing  within  the  walls.  A  small  garden  en 
closed  by  a  trellis-work  of  reeds  overhung  with  myrtle  lay  before 
the  tower.  Opening  a  wicket,  the  page  passed  between  beds  of 
flowers  and  thickets  of  roses  to  the  door.  It  was  closed  and 
bolted.  A  crevice  in  the  door  gave  him  a  peep  into  the  interior. 
There  was  a  small  Moorish  hall  with  fretted  walls,  light  mar 
ble  columns,  and  an  alabaster  fountain  surrounded  with  flow 
ers.  In  the  centre  hung  a  gilt  cage  containing  a  singing  bird 


158  THE  ALIIAMBRA. 

beneath  it,  on  a  chair,  lay  a  tortoise-shell  cat  among  reels  of 
silk  and  other  articles  of  female  labour,  and  a  guitar,  decorated 
with  ribands,  leaned  against  the  fountain. 

Ruyz  de  Alarcon  was  struck  with  these  traces  of  female 
taste  and  elegance  in  a  lonely,  and,  as  he  had  supposed 
deserted  tower.  They  reminded  him  of  the  tales  of  enchanted 
"aalls,  current  in  the  Alhambra;  and  the  tortoise-shell  cat 
.night  be  some  spell -bound  princess. 

He  knocked  gently  at  the  door,— a  beautiful  face  peeped  out 
from  a  little  window  above,  but  was  instantly  withdrawn.  He 
waited,  expecting  that  the  door  would  be  opened;  but  he 
waited  in  vain:  no  footstep  was  to  be  heard  within,  all  was 
silent.  Had  his  senses  deceived  him,  or  was  this  beautiful  ap 
parition  the  fairy  of  the  tower?  He  knocked  again,  and  more 
loudly.  After  a  little  while,  the  beaming  face  once  more 
peeped  forth:  it  was  that  of  a  blooming  damsel  of  fifteen. 

The  page  immediately  doffed  his  plumed  bonnet,  and 
entreated  in  the  most  courteous  accents  to  be  permitted  to 
ascend  the  tower  in  pursuit  of  his  falcon. 

"  I  dare  not  open  the  door,  Seiior,"  replied  the  little  damsel 
blushing;  "  my  aunt  has  forbidden  it." 

"I  do  beseech  you,  fair  maid;  it  is  the  favourite  falcon  of 
tho  queen;  I  dare  not  return  to  the  palace  without  it." 
"Are  you,  then,  one  of  the  cavaliers  of  the  court?" 
"  I  am,  fair  maid;  but  I  shall  lose  the  queen's  favour  and  my 
place  if  I  lose  this  hawk." 

"Santa  Maria!  It  is  against  you  cavaliers  of  the  court  that 
my  aunt  has  charged  me  especially  to  bar  the  door." 

"Against  wicked  cavaliers,  doubtless;  but  I  am  none  of 
those,  but  a  simple,  harmless  page,  who  will  be  ruined  and 
undone  if  you  deny  me  this  small  request." 

The  heart  of  the  little  damsel  was  touched  by  the  distress  of 
the  page.  It  was  a  thousand  pities  he  should  be  ruined  for  the 
want  of  so  trifling  a  boon.  Surely,  too,  he  could  not  be  one  of 
those  dangerous  beings  whom  her  aunt  had  described  as  a  spe 
cies  of  cannibal,  ever  on  the  prowl  to  make  prey  of  thought 
less  damsels;  he  was  gentle  and  modest,  and  stood  so  entreat- 
ingly  with  cap  in  hand,  and  looked  so  charming.  The  slj  page 
saw  that  the  garrison  began  to  waver,  and  redoubled  his 
entreaties  in  such  moving  terms,  that  it  was  not  in  the  nature 
of  mortal  maiden  to  deny  him ;  so,  the  blushing  little  warder 
of  the  tower  descended  and  opened  the  door  with  a  trembling 
hand ;  and  if  the  page  had  been  charmed  by  a  mere  glimpse  of 


THE  LEGEND   OF  THE  ROSE  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA.  159 

her  countenance  from  the  window,  he  was  ravished  by  the 
full-length  portrait  now  revealed  to  him. 

Her  Andalusian  bodice  and  trim  basquina  set  off  the  round 
but  delicate  symmetry  of  her  form,  which  was  as  yet  scarce 
verging  into  womanhood.  Her  glossy  hair  was  parted  on  her 
forehead  with  scrupulous  exactness,  and  decorated  with  a 
fresh  plucked  rose,  according  to  the  universal  custom  of  the 
country. 

It  is  true,  her  complexion  was  tinged  by  the  ardour  of  a 
southern  sun,  but  it  served  to  give  richness  to  the  mantling 
bloom  of  her  cheek,  and  to  heighten  the  lustre  of  her  melting 
eyes. 

Euyz  de  Alarcon  beheld  all  this  with  a  single  glance,  for  it 
became  him  not  to  tarry ;  he  merely  murmured  his  acknow 
ledgments,  and  then  bounded  lightly  up  the  spiral  staircase  in 
quest  of  his  falcon.  He  soon  returned  with  the  truant  bird 
upon  his  fist.  The  damsel,  in  the  mean  time,  had  seated  her 
self  by  the  fountain  in  the  hall,  and  was  winding  silk ;  but  in 
her  agitation  she  let  fall  the  reel  upon  the  pavement.  The 
page  sprang,  picked  it  up,  then  dropping  gracefully  on  one 
knee,  presented  it  to  her,  but,  seizing  the  hand  extended  to 
receive  it,  imprinted  on  it  a  kiss  more  fervent  and  devout 
than  he  had  ever  imprinted  on  the  fair  hand  of  his  sovereign. 

"Ave  Maria!  Sefiorf  exclaimed  the  damsel,  blushing  still 
deeper  with  confusion  and  surprise,  for  never  before  had  she 
receive  such  a  salutation. 

The  modest  page  made  a  thousand  apologies,  assuring  her  it 
was  the  way,  at  court,  of  expressing  the  most  profound  hom 
age  and  respect. 

Her  anger,  if  anger  she  felt,  was  easily  pacified;  but  her 
agitation  and  embarrassment  continued,  and  she  sat  blushing 
deeper  and  deeper,  with  her  eyes  cast  down  upon  her  work, 
entangling  the  silk  which  she  attempted  to  wind. 

The  cunning  page  saw  the  confusion  in  the  opposite  camp, 
and  would  fain  have  profited  by  it,  but  the  fine  speeches  he 
would  have  uttered  died  upon  his  lips;  his  attempts  at  gal 
lantry  were  awkward  and  ineffectual :  and,  to  his  surprise,  the 
adroit  page  who  had  figured  with  such  grace  and  effrontery 
among  the  most  knowing  and  experienced  ladies  of  the  court, 
found  himself  awed  and  abashed  in  the  presence  of  a  simple 
damsel  of  fifteen. 

In  fact,  the  artless  maiden,  in  her  own  modesty  and  inno 
cence,  had  guardians  more  effectual  than  the  bolts  and  bars 


160  TU-E  ALUAMBRA. 

prescribed  by  her  vigilant  aunt.  Still,  where  is  the  female 
bosom  proof  against  the  first  whisperings  of  love?  The  little 
damsel,  with  all  her  artlessness,  instinctively  comprehended  all 
that  the  faltering  tongue  of  the  page  failed  to  express,  and  her 
heart  was  fluttered  at  beholding,  for  the  first  time,  a  lover  at 
her  feet—  and  such  a  lover ! 

The  diffidence  of  the  page,  though  genuine,  was  short-lived, 
and  he  was  recovering  his  usual  ease  and  confidence,  when  a 
shrill  voice  was  heard  at  a  distance. 

"My  aunt  is  returning  from  mass!"  cried  the  damsel  in 
affright.  "I  pray  you,  Senor,  depart." 

' '  Not  until  you  grant  me  that  rose  from  your  hair  as  a  re 
membrance.  " 

She  hastily  untwisted  the  rose  from  her  raven  locks.  "  Take 
it,"  cried  she,  agitated  and  blushing,  "but  pray  begone." 

The  page  took  the  rose,  and  at  the  same  time  covered  with 
kisses  the  fair  hand  that  gave  it.  Then  placing  the  flower  in 
his  bonnet,  and  taking  the  falcon  upon  his  fist,  he  bounded  off 
through  the  garden,  bearing  away  with  him  the  heart  of  the 
gentle  Jacinta. 

When  the  vigilant  aunt  arrived  at  the  tower,  she  remarked 
the  agitation  of  her  niece,  and  an  air  of  confusion  in  the  hall ; 
but  a  word  of  explanation  sufficed.  "A  ger-falcon  had  pur 
sued  his  prey  into  the  hall." 

"  Mercy  on  us!  To  think  of  a  falcon  flying  into  the  tower. 
Did  ever  one  hear  of  so  saucy  a  hawk?  Why,  the  very  bird  in 
the  cage  is  not  safe." 

The  vigilant  Fredegonda  was  one  of  the  most  wary  of 
ancient  spinsters.  She  had  a  becoming  terror  and  distrust  of 
what  she  denominated  "the  opposite  sex,"  which  had  gradu 
ally  increased  through  a  long  life  of  celibacy.  Not  that  the 
good  lady  had  ever  suffered  from  their  wiles ;  nature  having 
set  up  a  safeguard  in  her  face,  that  forbade  all  trespass  upon 
her  premises ;  but  ladies  who  have  least  cause  to  fear  for  them 
selves,  are  most  ready  to  keep  a  watch  over  their  more  tempt 
ing  neighbours.  The  niece  was  the  orphan  of  an  officer  who 
had  fallen  in  the  wars.  She  had  been  educated  in  a  convent, 
and  had  recently  been  transferred  from  her  sacred  asylum  to 
the  immediate  guardianship  of  her  aunt;  under  whose  over 
shadowing  care  she  vegetated  in  obscurity,  like  an  opening 
rose  blooming  beneath  a  briar.  Nor,  indeed,  is  this  comparison 
entirely  accidental,  for  to  tell  the  truth  her  fresh  and  dawning 
beauty  had  caught  the  public  eye,  even  in  her  seclusion,  and. 


THE  LEGEND  OF  THE  ROSE  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA.  161 

with  that  poetical  turn  common  to  the  people  of  Andalusia, 
the  peasantry  of  the  neighbourhood  had  given  her  the  appella 
tion  of  "  The  Rose  of  the  Alhambra." 

The  wary  aunt  continued  to  keep  a  faithful  watch  over  her 
tempting  little  niece  as  long  as  the  court  continued  at  Granada, 
and  flattered  herself  that  her  vigilance  had  been  successful.  It 
is  true,  the  good  lady  was  now  and  then  discomposed  by  the 
tinkling  of  guitars,  and  chanting  of  love  ditties  from  the  moon 
lit  groves  beneath  the  tower,  but  she  would  exhort  her  niece 
to  shut  her  ears  against  such  idle  minstrelsy,  assuring  her 
that  it  was  one  of  the  arts  of  the  opposite  sex,  by  which  simple 
maids  were  often  lured  to  their  undoing ; — alas,  what  chance 
with  a  simple  maid  has  a  dry  lecture  against  a  moonlight 
serenade ! 

At  length  king  Philip  cut  short  his  sojourn  at  Granada,  and 
suddenly  departed  with  all  his  train.  The  vigilant  Fredegonda 
watched  the  royal  pageant  as  it  issued  forth  from  the  gate  of 
Justice,  and  descended  the  great  avenue  leading  to  the  city. 
When  the  last  banner  disappeared  from  her  sight,  she  re 
turned  exulting  to  her  tower,  for  all  her  cares  were  over.  To 
her  surprise,  a  light  Arabian  steed  pawed  the  ground  at  the 
wicket  gate  of  the  garden— to  her  horror  she  saw  through  the 
thickets  of  roses,  a  youth,  in  gaily  embroidered  dress,  at  the 
feet  of  her  niece.  At  the  sound  of  her  footsteps  he  gave  a 
tender  adieu,  bounded  lightly  over  the  barrier  of  reeds  and 
myrtles,  sprang  upon  his  horse,  and  was  out  of  sight  in  an  in 
stant. 

The  tender  Jacinta  in  the  agony  of  her  grief  lost  all  thought 
of  her  aunt's  displeasure.  Throwing  herself  into  her  arms,  she 
broke  forth  into  sobs  and  tears. 

"Ay  di  mi!"  cried  she,  "he  is  gone!  he  is  gone!  and  I  shall 
never  see  him  more." 

"Gone!  who  is  gone?  what  youth  is  this  I  saw  at  your  feet?" 

"A  queen's  page,  aunt,  who  came  to  bid  me  farewell." 

"A  queen's  page,  child,"  echoed  the  vigilant  Fredegonda 
faintly,  ' '  and  when  did  you  become  acquainted  with  a  queen's 
page?" 

"The  morning  that  the  ger-falcon  flew  into  the  tower.  It 
was  the  queen's  ger-falcon,  and  he  came  in  pursuit  of  it." 

"Ah,  silly,  silly  girl!  know  that  there  are  no  ger-falcons 
half  so  dangerous  as  these  prankling  pages,  and  it  is  precisely 
such  simple  birds  as  thee  that  they  pounce  upon. " 

The  aunt  was  at  first  indignant  at  learning  that,  in  despite 


162  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

of  her  boasted  vigilance,  a  tender  intercourse  had  been  carried 
on  by  the  youthful  lovers,  almost  beneath  her  eye;  but  when 
she  found  that  her  simple-hearted  niece,  though  thus  exposed, 
without  the  protection  of  bolt  or  bar,  to  all  the  machinations 
of  the  opposite  sex,  had  come  forth  unsinged  from  the  fiery 
ordeal,  she  consoled  herself  with  the  persuasion  that  it  was 
owing  to  the  chaste  and  cautious  maxims  in  which  she  had,  as 
it  were,  steeped  her  to  the  very  lips. 

While  the  aunt  laid  this  soothing  unction  to  her  pride,  the 
niece  treasured  up  the  oft-repeated  vows  of  fidelity  of  the  page. 
But  what  is  the  love  of  restless,  roving  man?  a  vagrant  stream 
that  dallies  for  a  time  with  each  flower  upon  its  banks,  then 
passes  on  and  leaves  them  all  in  tears. 

Days,  weeks,  months  elapsed,  and  nothing  more  was  heard 
of  the  page.  The  pomegranate  ripened,  the  vine  yielded  up  its 
fruit,  the  autumnal  rains  descended  in  torrents  from  the 
mountains;  the  Sierra  Nevada  became  covered  with  a  snowy 
mantle,  and  wintry  blasts  howled  through  the  halls  of  the  Al- 
hambra :  still  he  came  not.  The  winter  passed  away.  Again 
the  genial  spring  burst  forth  with  song,  and  blossoms,  and 
balmy  zephyr;  the  snows  melted  from  the  mountains,  until 
none  remained,  but  on  the  lofty  summit  of  the  Nevada,  glisten 
ing  through  the  sultry  summer  air :  still  nothing  was  heard  of 
the  forgetful  page. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  poor  little  Jacinta  grew  pale  and. 
thoughtful.  Her  former  occupations  and  amusements  were 
abandoned;  her  silk  lay  entangled,  her  guitar  unstrung,  her 
flowers  were  neglected,  the  notes  of  her  bird  unheeded,  and 
her  eyes,  once  so  bright,  were  dimmed  with  secret  weeping. 
If  any  solitude  could  be  devised  to  foster  the  passion  of  a  love 
lorn  damsel,  it  would  be  such  a  place  as  the  Alhambra,  where 
every  thing  seems  disposed  to  produce  tender  and  romantic 
reveries.  It  is  a  very  Paradise  for  lovers ;  how  hard  then  to  be 
alone  in  such  a  Paradise;  and  not  merely  alone,  but  for 
saken. 

"  Alas,  silly  child!"  would  the  staid  and  immaculate  Frede- 
gonda  say,  when  she  found  her  niece  in  one  of  her  desponding 
moods,  "did  I  not  warn  thee  against  the  wiles  and  deceptions 
of  these  men?  What  couldst  thou  expect,  too,  from  one  of  a 
haughty  and  aspiring  family,  thou,  an  orphan,  the  descendant 
of  a  fallen  and  impoverished  line;  be  assured,  if  the  youth 
were  true,  his  father,  who  is  one  of  the  proudest  nobles  about 
the  court,  would  prohibit  his  union  with  one  so  humble  and 


THE  LEGEND  OF  THE  EOSE  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA.  163 

portionless  as  thou.  Pluck  up  thy  resolution,  therefore,  and 
drive  these  idle  notions  from  thy  mind." 

The  words  of  the  immaculate  Fredegonda  only  served  to  in 
crease  the  melancholy  of  her  niece,  but  she  sought  to  indulge 
it  in  private.  At  a  late  hour  one  midsummer  night,  after  her 
aunt  had  retired  to  rest,  she  remained  alone  in  the  hall  of  the 
tower,  seated  beside  the  alabaster  fountain.  It  was  here  that 
the  faithless  page  had  first  knelt  and  kissed  her  hand,  it  was 
here  that  he  had  often  vowed  eternal  fidelity.  The  poor  little 
damsel's  heart  was  overladen  with  sad  and  tender  recollections, 
her  tears  began  to  flow,  and  slowly  fell,  drop  by  drop,  into  the 
fountain.  By  degrees  the  crystal  water  became  agitated,  and, 
bubble— bubble — bubble,  boiled  up,  and  was  tossed  about  until 
a  female  figure,  richly  clad  in  Moorish  robes,  slowly  rose  to 
view. 

Jacinta  was  so  frightened,  that  she  fled  from  the  hall,  and 
did  not  venture  to  return.  The  next  morning,  she  related 
what  she  had  seen  to  her  aunt,  but  the  good  lady  treated  it  as 
a  fantasy  of  her  troubled  mind,  or  supposed  she  had  fallen 
asleep  and  dreamt  beside  the  fountain.  "Thou  hast  been 
thinking  of  the  story  of  the  three  Moorish  princesses  that  once 
inhabited  the  tower,"  continued  she,  "and  it  has  entered  into 
thy  dreams. " 

"What  story,  aunt?    I  know  nothing  of  it." 

"Thou  hast  certainly  heard  of  the  three  princesses,  Zayda, 
Zorayda,  and  Zorahayda,  who  were  confined  in  this  tower  by 
the  king  their  father,  and  agreed  to  fly  with  three  Christian 
cavaliers.  The  first  two  accomplished  their  escape,  but  the 
third  failed  in  resolution  and  remained,  and  it  is  said  died  in 
this  tower." 

"  I  now  recollect  to  have  heard  of  it,"  said  Jacinta,  "and  to 
have  wept  over  the  fate  of  the  gentle  Zorahayda." 

"Thou  mayst  well  weep  over  her  fate,"  continued  the  aunt, 
"for  the  lever  of  Zorahayda  was  thy  ancestor.  He  long  be 
moaned  his  Moorish  love,  but  time  cured  him  of  his  grief,  and 
he  married  a  Spanish  lady,  from  whom  thou  art  descended." 

Jacinta  ruminated  upon  these  words.  ' '  That  what  I  have 
seen  is  no  fantasy  of  the  brain," said  she  to  herself,  "I  am  con 
fident.  If  indeed  it  be  the  sprite  of  the  gentle  Zorahayda, 
which  I  have  heard  lingers  about  this  tower,  of  what  should  I 
be  afraid?  I'll  watch  by  the  fountain  to-night,  perhaps  the 
visit  will  be  repeated." 

Towards  midnight,  when  every  thing  was  quiet,  she  again 


164  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

took  her  seat  in  the  hall.  As  the  bell  on  the  distant  watch- 
tower  of  the  Alhambra  struck  the  midnight  hour,  the  fountain 
was  again  agitated,  and  bubble— bubble— bubble,  it  tossed 
about  the  waters  until  the  Moorish  female  again  rose  to  view. 
She  was  young  and  beautiful ;  her  dress  was  rich  with  jewels, 
and  in  her  hand  she  held  a  silver  lute.  Jacinta  trembled  and 
was  faint,  but  was  reassured  by  the  soft  and  plaintive  voice 
of  the  apparition,  and  the  sweet  expression  of  her  pale  melan 
choly  countenance. 

"Daughter  of  Mortality,"  said  she,  "  what  aileth  thee?  Why 
do  thy  tears  trouble  my  fountain,  and  thy  sighs  and  plaints 
disturb  the  quiet  watches  of  the  night?" 

"  I  weep  because  of  the  faithlessness  of  man;  and  I  bemoan 
my  solitary  and  forsaken  state. " 

"Take  comfort,  thy  sorrows  may  yet  have  an  end.  Thou 
beholdest  a  Moorish  princess,  who,  like  thee,  was  unhappy  in 
her  love.  A  Christian  knight,  thy  ancestor,  won  my  heart, 
and  would  have  borne  me  to  his  native  land,  and  to  the  bosom 
of  his  church.  I  was  a  convert  in  my  heart,  but  I  lacked  cour 
age  equal  to  my  faith,  and  lingered  till  too  late.  For  this,  the 
evil  genii  are  permitted  to  have  power  over  me,  and  I  remain 
enchanted  in  this  tower,  until  some  pure  Christian  will  deign 
to  break  the  magic  spell.  Wilt  thou  undertake  the  task?" 

"  I  will!"  replied  the  damsel,  trembling. 

"  Come  hither,  then,  and  fear  not:  dip  thy  hand  in  the  foun 
tain,  sprinkle  the  water  over  me,  and  baptize  me  after  the 
manner  of  thy  faith ;  so  shall  the  enchantment  be  dispelled, 
and  my  troubled  spirit  have  repose. " 

The  damsel  advanced  with  faltering  steps,  dipped  her  hand 
in  the  fountain,  collected  water  in  the  palm,  and  sprinkled  it 
over"  the  pale  face  of  the  phantom. 

The  latter  smiled  with  ineffable  benignity.  She  dropped  her 
silver  lute  at  the  feet  of  Jacinta,  crossed  her  white  arms  upon 
her  bosom,  and  melted  from  sight,  so  that  it  seemed  merely  as 
if  a  shower  of  dewdrops  had  fallen  into  the  fountain. 

Jacinta  retired  from  the  hall,  filled  with  awe  and  wonder. 
She  scarcely  closed  her  eyes  that  night,  but  when  she  awoke 
at  daybreak  out  of  a  troubled  slumber,  the  whole  appeared  to 
her  like  a  distempered  dream.  On  descending  into  the  hall, 
however,  the  truth  of  the  vision  was  established;  for,  beside 
the  fountain  she  beheld  the  silver  lute  glittering  in  the  morn 
ing  sunshine. 

She  hastened  to  her  aunt,  related  all  that  had  befallen  her, 


THE  LEGEND  OF  THE  ROSE  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA.  165 

and  called  her  to  behold  the  lute  as  a  testimonial  of  the  reality 
of  her  story.  If  the  good  lady  had  any  lingering  doubts,  they 
were  removed  when  Jacinta  touched  the  instrument,  for  she 
drew  forth  such  ravishing  tones  as  to  thaw  even  the  frigid 
bosom  of  the  immaculate  Fredegonda,  that  region  of  eternal 
winter,  into  a  genial  flow.  Nothing  but  supernatural  melody 
could  have  produced  such  an  effect. 

The  extraordinary  power  of  the  lute  became  every  day  more 
and  more  apparent.  The  wayfarer  passing  by  the  tower  was 
detained,  and,  as  it  were,  spell-bound,  in  breathless  ecstasy. 
The  very  birds  gathered  in  the  neighbouring  trees,  and,  hush 
ing  their  own  strains,  listened  in  charmed  silence.  Rumour 
soon  spread  the  news  abroad.  The  inhabitants  of  Granada 
thronged  to  the  Alhambra,  to  catch  a  few  notes  of  the 
transcendent  music  that  floated  about  the  tower  of  Las  In 
fantas. 

The  lovely  little  minstrel  was  at  length  drawn  forth  from 
her  retreat.  The  rich  and  powerful  of  the  land  contended  who 
should  entertain  and  do  honour  to  her;  or  rather,  who  should 
secure  the  charms  of  her  lute,  to  draw  fashionable  throngs  to 
their  saloons.  Wherever  she  went,  her  vigilant  aunt  kept  a 
dragon- watch  at  her  elbow,  awing  the  throngs  of  impassioned 
admirers  who  hung  in  raptures  on  her  strains.  The  report 
of  her  wonderful  powers  spread  from  city  to  city:  Malaga, 
Seville,  Cordova,  all  became  successively  mad  on  the  theme; 
nothing  was  talked  of  throughout  Andalusia,  but  the  beauti 
ful  minstrel  of  the  Alhambra.  How  could  it  be  otherwise 
among  a  people  so  musical  and  gallant  as  the  Andalusians, 
when  the  kite  was  magical  in  its  powers,  and  the  minstrel 
inspired  by  love. 

While  all  Andalusia  was  thus  music-mad,  a  different  moo  1 
prevailed  at  the  court  of  Spain.  Philip  V.,  as  is  well  known, 
was  a  miserable  hypochondriac,  and  subject  to  all  kinds  of 
fancies.  Sometimes  he  would  keep  to  his  bed  for  weeks 
together,  groaning  under  imaginary  complaints.  At  other 
times  he  would  insist  upon  abdicating  his  throne,  to  the 
great  annoyance  of  his  royal  spouse,  who  had  a  strong  relish 
for  the  splendours  of  a  court  and  the  glories  of  a  crown,  and 
guided  the  sceptre  of  her  imbecile  lord  with  an  expert  and 
steady  hand. 

Nothing  was  found  to  be  so  efficacious  in  dispelling  the 
royal  megrims  as  the  powers  of  music;  the  queen  took 
care,  therefore,  to  have  the  best  performers,  both  vocal  and 


166  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

instrumental,  at  hand,  and  retained  the  famous  Italian  singei 
Farinelli  about  the  court  as  a  kind  of  royal  physician. 

At  the  moment  we  treat  of,  however,  a  freak  had  come  over 
the  mind  of  this  sapient  and  illustrious  Bourbon,  that  sur 
passed  all  former  vagaries.  After  a  long  spell  of  imaginary 
illness,  which  set  all  the  strains  of  Farinelli,  and  the  consul 
tations  of  a  whole  orchestra  of  court  fiddlers,  at  defiance,  the 
monarch  fairly,  in  idea,  gave  up  the  ghost,  and  considered 
himself  absolutely  dead. 

This  would  have  been  harmless  enough,  and  even  convenient 
both  to  his  queen  and  courtiers,  had  he  been  content  to  remain 
in  the  quietude  befitting  a  dead  man ;  but,  to  their  annoyance, 
he  insisted  upon  having  the  funeral  ceremonies  performed 
over  him,  and,  to  their  inexpressible  perplexity,  began  to 
grow  impatient,  and  to  revile  bitterly  at  them  for  negli 
gence  and  disrespect  in  leaving  him  unburied.  What  was  to 
be  done?  To  disobey  the  king's  positive  commands  was 
monstrous  in  the  eyes  of  the  obsequious  courtiers  of  a  punc 
tilious  court, — but  to  obey  him,  and  bury  him  alive,  would  be 
downright  regicide ! 

In  the  midst  of  this  fearful  dilemma,  a  rumour  reached  the 
court  of  the  female  minstrel,  who  was  turning  the  brains  of  all 
Andalusia.  The  queen  despatched  missives  in  all  haste,  to 
summon  her  to  St.  Ildefonso,  where  the  court  at  that  time 
resided. 

Within  a  few  days,  as  the  queen  with  her  maids  of  honour 
was  walking  in  those  stately  gardens,  intended,  with  their 
avenues,  and  terraces,  and  fountains,  to  eclipse  the  glories  of 
Versailles,  the  far-famed  minstrel  was  conducted,  into  her 
presence.  The  imperial  Elizabetta  gazed  with  surprise  at  the 
youthful  and  unpretending  appearance  of  the  little  being  that 
had  set  the  world  madding.  She  was  in  her  picturesque 
Andalusian  dress;  her  silver  lute  was  in  her  hand,  and  she 
stood  with  modest  and  downcast  eyes,  but  with  a  simplicity 
and  freshness  of  beauty  that  still  bespoke  her  "The  Eose  of 
the  Alhambra." 

As  usual,  she  was  accompanied  by  the  ever  vigilant  Frede- 
gonda,  who  gave  the  whole  history  of  her  parentage  and 
descent  to  the  inquiring  queen.  If  the  stately  Elizabetta 
had  been  interested  by  the  appearance  of  Jacinta,  she  was 
still  more  pleased  when  she  learnt  that  she  was  of  a  meri 
torious,  though  impoverished  line,  and  that  her  father  had 
bravely  fallen  in  the  service  of  the  crown.  "If  thj 


THE  LEGEND  OF  THE  ROSE  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA.  167 

equal  their  renown,"  said  she,  "and  thou  canst  cast  forth  this 
evil  spirit  that  possesses  thy  sovereign,  thy  fortune  shall 
henceforth  be  my  care,  and  honours  and  wealth  attend  thee." 

Impatient  to  make  trial  of  her  skill,  she  led  the  way  at  once 
to  the  apartment  of  the  moody  monarch.  Jacinta  followed 
with  downcast  eyes  through  files  of  guards  and  crowds  of 
courtiers.  They  arrived  at  length  at  a  great  chamber  hung  in 
black.  The  windows  were  closed,  to  exclude  the  light  of  day ; 
a  number  of  yellow  wax  tapers,  in  silver  sconces,  diffused  a 
lugubrious  light,  and  dimly  revealed  the  figures  of  mutes  in 
mourning  dresses,  and  courtiers,  who  glided  about  with  noise 
less  step  and  woe-begone  visage.  On  the  midst  of  a  funeral 
bed  or  bier,  his  hands  folded  on  his  breast,  and  the  tip  of  his 
nose  just  visible,  lay  extended  this  would-be-buried  monarch. 

The  queen  entered  the  chamber  in  silence,  and,  pointing  to  a 
footstool  in  an  obscure  corner,  beckoned  to  Jacinta  to  sit  down 
and  commence. 

At  first  she  touched  her  lute  with  a  faltering  hand,  but 
gathering  confidence  and  animation  as  she  proceeded,  drew 
forth  such  soft,  aerial  harmony,  that  all  present  could  scarce 
believe  it  mortal.  As  to  the  monarch,  who  had  already  con 
sidered  himself  in  the  world  of  spirits,  he  set  it  down  for  some 
angelic  melody,  or  the  music  of  the  spheres.  By  degrees  the 
theme  was  varied,  and  the  voice  of  the  minstrel  accompanied 
the  instrument.  She  poured  forth  one  ot  the  legendary  bal 
lads  treating  of  the  ancient  glories  of  the  Alhambra,  and  the 
achievements  of  the  Moors.  Her  whole  soul  entered  into  tho 
theme,  for  with  the  recollections  of  the  Albambra  was  associ 
ated  the  story  of  her  love ;  the  funereal  chamber  resounded 
with  the  animating  strain.  It  entered  into  the  gloomy  heart 
of  the  monarch.  He  raised  his  head  and  gazed  around ;  he  sat 
up  on  his  couch ;  his  eye  began  to  kindle ;  at  length,  leaping 
upon  the  floor,  he  called  for  sword  and  buckler. 

The  triumph  of  music,  or  rather  of  the  enchanted  lute,  was 
I3omplete ;  the  demon  of  melancholy  was  cast  forth ;  and,  as  it 
were,  a  dead  man  brought  to  life.  The  windows  of  the  apark 
ment  were  thrown  open;  the  glorious  effulgence  of  Spanish 
sunshine  burst  into  the  late  lugubrious  chamber;  all  eyes 
sought  the  lovely  enchantress,  but  the  lute  had  fallen  from  her 
hand ;  she  had  sunk  upon  the  earth,  and  the  next  moment  was 
clasped  to  the  bosom  of  Ruyz  de  Alarcon. 

The  nuptials  of  the  happy  couple  were  shortly  after  celebrated 
mth  great  splendour,— but  hold,  I  hear  the  reader  ask  how  did 


168  THE  ALIIAMBRA. 

Ruyz  de  Alarcon  account  for  his  long  neglect?  Oh,— that  was 
all  owing  to  the  opposition  of  a  proud  pragmatical  old  father,— 
besides,  young  people,  who  really  like  one  another,  soon  come 
to  an  amicable  understanding,  and  bury  all  past  grievances 
whenever  they  meet. 

But  how  was  the  proud  pragmatical  old  father  reconciled  to 
the  match? 

Oh,  his  scruples  were  easily  overruled  by  a  word  or  two  from 
the  queen,  —especially  as  dignities  and  rewards  were  showered 
upon  the  blooming  favourite  of  royalty.  Besides,  the  lute  of 
Jacinta,  you  know,  possessed  a  magic  power,  and  could  con 
trol  the  most  stubborn  head  and  hardest  heart. 

And  what  became  of  the  enchanted  lute? 

Oh,  that  is  the  most  curious  matter  of  all,  and  plainly  proves 
the  truth  of.  all  the  story.  That  lute  remained  for  some  time 
in  the  family,  but  was  purloined  and  carried  off,  as  was  sup 
posed,  by  the  great  singer  Farinelli,  in  pure  jealousy.  At  his 
death  it  passed  into  other  hands  in  Italy,  who  were  ignorant  of 
its  mystic  powers,  and  melting  down  the  silver,  transferred  the 
strings  to  an  old  Cremona  fiddle.  The  strings  still  retain  some 
thing  of  their  magic  virtues.  A  word  in  the  reader's  ear,  but 
let  it  go  no  further,— that  fiddle  is  now  bewitching  the  whole 
world, — it  is  the  fiddle  of  Paganini! 


THE  VETERAN. 

AMONG  the  curious  acquaintances  I  have  made  in  my  rambles 
about  the  fortress,  is  a  brave  and  battered  old  Colonel  of  In 
valids,  who  is  nestled  like  a  hawk  in  one  of  the  Moorish  towers. 
His  history,  which  he  is  fond  of  telling,  is  a  tissue  of  those 
adventures,  mishaps,  and  vicissitudes  that  render  the  life  of 
almost  every  Spaniard  of  note  as  varied  and  whimsical  as  the 
pages  of  Gil  Bias. 

He  was  in  America  at  twelve  years  of  age,  and  reckons 
among  the  most  signal  and  fortunate  events  of  his  life,  his  hav 
ing  seen  General  Washington.  Since  then  he  has  taken  a  part 
in  all  the  wars  of  his  country ;  he  can  speak  experimentally  of 
most  of  the  prisons  and  dungeons  of  the  Peninsula,  has  been 
lamed  of  one  leg,  crippled  in  his  hand,  and  so  cut  up  and  car 
bonadoed,  that  he  is  a  kind  of  walking  monument  of  the 
troubles  of  Spain,  on  which  there  is  a  scar  for  every  battle  and 


THE   VETERAN.  109 

broil  e  as  every  year  was  notched  upon  the  tree  of  Robinson 
Crusoe.  The  greatest  misfortune  of  the  brave  old  cavalier, 
however,  appears  to  have  been  his  having  commanded  at 
Malaga  during  a  time  of  peril  and  confusion,  and  been  made  a 
general  by  the  inhabitants  to  protect  them  from  the  invasion 
of  the  French. 

This  has  entailed  upon  him  a  number  of  just  claims  upon 
government  that  I  fear  will  employ  him  until  his  dying  day  in 
writing  and  printing  petitions  and  memorials,  to  the  great  dis 
quiet  of  his  mind,  exhaustion  of  his  purse,  and  penance  of  his 
friends ;  not  one  of  whom  can  visit  him  without  having  to -listen 
to  a  mortal  document  of  half  an  hour  in  length,  and  to  carry 
away  half  a  dozen  pamphlets  in  his  pocket.  This,  however, 
is  the  case  throughout  Spain :  every  where  you  meet  with  some 
worthy  wight  brooding  in  a  corner,  and  nursing  up  some  pet 
grievance  and  cherished  wrong.  Beside,  a  Spaniard  who  has 
a  lawsuit,  or  a  claim  upon  government,  may  be  considered  as 
furnished  with  employment  for  the  remainder  of  his  life. 

I  visited  the  veteran  in  his  quarters  in  the  upper  part  of  the 
Terre  del  Vino,  or  Wine  Tower.  His  room  was  small  but  snug, 
and  commanded  a  beautiful  view  of  the  Vega.  It  was  arranged 
with  a  soldier's  precision.  Three  muskets  and  a  brace  of  pistols, 
all  bright  and  shining,  were  suspended  against  the  wall,  with  a 
sabre  and  a  cane  hanging  side  by  side,  and  above  these  two 
cocked  hats,  one  for  parade,  and  one  for  ordinary  use.  A  small 
shelf,  containing  some  half  dozen  books,  formed  his  library, 
one  of  which,  a  little  old  mouldy  volume  of  philosophical 
maxims,  was  his  favourite  reading.  This  he  thumbed  and 
pondered  over  day  by  day ;  applying  every  maxim  to  his  own 
particular  case,  provided  it  had  a  little  tinge  of  wholesome  bit 
terness,  and  treated  of  the  injustice  of  the  world. 

Yet  he  is  social  and  kind-hearted,  and,  provided  he  can  be 
diverted  from  his  wrongs  and  his  philosophy,  is  an  entertain^ 
ing  companion.  I  like  these  old  weather-beaten  sons  of  fortune, 
and  enjoy  their  rough  campaigning  anecdotes.  In  the  course 
of  my  visit  to  the  one  in  question,  I  learnt  some  curious  facts 
about  an  old  military  commander  of  the  fortress,  who  seems  to 
have  resembled  him  in  some  respects,  and  to  have  had  similar 
fortunes  in  the  wars.  These  particulars  have  been  augmented 
by  inquiries  among  some  of  the  old  inhabitants  of  the  place, 
particularly  the  father  of  Mateo  Ximenes,  of  whose  traditional 
stories  the  worthy  I  am  about  to  introduce  to  the  reader  is  a 
favourite  hero. 


J70  THE  AL11AMJ3UA. 


THE  GOVERNOR  AND  THE  NOTARY. 

In  former  times  there  ruled,  as  governor  of  the 'Alhambra,  a 
doughty  old  cavalier,  who,  from  having  lost  one  arm  in  the 
wars,  was  commonly  known  by  the  name  of  El  Gobernador 
Manco,  or  the  one-armed  governor.  He  in  fact  prided  himself 
Upon  being  an  old  soldier,  wore  his  mustachios  curled  up  to  his 
eyes,  a  pair  of  campaigning  boots,  and  a  toledo  as  long  as  a  spit, 
with  his  pocket  handkerchief  in  the  basket-hilt. 

He  was,  moreover,  exceedingly  proud  and  punctilious,  and 
tenacious  of  all  his  privileges  and  dignities.  Under  his  sway, 
the  immunities  of  the  Alhambra,  as  a  royal  residence  and  do 
main,  were  rigidly  exacted.  No  one  was  permitted  to  enter 
the  fortress  with  fire-arms,  or  even  with  a  sword  or  staff,  unless 
he  were  of  a  certain  rank,  and  every  horseman  was  obliged  to 
dismount  at  the  gate  and  lead  his  horse  by  the  bridle.  Now, 
as  the  hill  of  the  Alhambra  rises  from  the  very  midst  of  the 
city  of  Granada,  being,  as  it  were,  an  excrescence  of  the  capi 
tal,  it  must  at  all  times  be  somewhat  irksome  to  the  captain- 
general  who  commands  the  province,  to  have  thus  an  imperium 
in  imperio,  a  petty  independent  post,  in  the  very  core  of  his 
domains.  It  was  rendered  the  more  galling  in  the  present 
instance,  from  the  irritable  jealousy  of  the  old  governor,  that 
took  fire  on  the  least  question  of  authority  and  jurisdiction, 
and  from  the  loose  vagrant  character  of  the  people  that  had 
gradually  nestled  themselves  within  the  fortress  as  in  a  sanctu 
ary,  and  from  thence  carried  on  a  system  of  roguery  and  dep 
redation  at  the  expense  of  the  honest  inhabitants  of  the  city. 
Thus  there  was  a  perpetual  feud  and  heart-burning  between 
the  captain-general  and  the  governor;  the  more  virulent  on 
the  part  of  the  latter,  inasmuch  as  the  smallest  of  two  neigh 
bouring  potentates  is  always  the  most  captious  about  his  dignity. 
The  stately  palace  of  the  captain-general  stood  in  the  Plaza 
Nueva,  immediately  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  of  the  Alhambra, 
and  here  was  always  a  bustle  and  parade  of  guards,  and  domes 
tics,  and  city  functionaries.  A  beetling  bastion  of  the  fortress 
overlooked  the  palace  and  the  public  square  in  front  of  it ;  and 
on  this  bastion  the  old  governor  would  occasionally  strut  back 
wards  and  forwards,  with  his  toledo  girded  by  his  side,  keeping 


THE  GOVERNOR  AND  THE  NOTARY.  171 

a  wary  eye  down  upon  his  rival,  like  a  hawk  reconnoitring  his 
quarry  from  his  nest  in  a  dry  tree. 

Whenever  he  descended  into  the  city,  it  was  in  grand 
parade,  on  horseback,  surrounded  by  his  guards,  or  in  his 
state  coach,  an  ancient  and  unwieldy  Spanish  edifice  of  carved 
timber  and  gilt  leather,  drawn  by  eight  mules,  with  running 
footmen,  outriders,  and  lacqueys,  on  which  occasions  he  nat 
tered  himself  he  impressed  every  beholder  with  awe  and  ad 
miration  as  vicegerent  of  the  king,  though  the  wits  of  Gra 
nada,  particularly  those  who  loitered  about  the  palace  of  the 
captain-general,  were  apt  to  sneer  at  his  petty  parade,  and,  in 
allusion  to  the  vagrant  character  of  his  subjects,  to  greet  him 
with  the  appellation  of  "  the  King  of  the  beggars." 

One  of  the  most  fruitful  sources  of  dispute  between  these 
two  doughty  rivals,  was  the  right  claimed  by  the  governor 
to  have  all  things  passed  free  of  duty  through  the  city,  that 
were  intended  for  the  use  of  himself  or  his  garrison.  By  de 
grees,  this  privilege  had  given  rise  to  extensive  smuggling.  A 
nest  of  contrabandistas  took  up  their  abode  in  the  hovels  of 
the  fortress  and  the  numerous  caves  in  its  vicinity,  and  drove 
a  thriving  business  under  the  connivance  of  the  soldiers  of 
the  garrison. 

The  vigilance  of  the  captain-general  was  aroused.  He  con 
sulted  his  legal  adviser  and  factotum,  a  shrewd,  meddlesome 
Escribano  or  notary,  who  rejoiced  in  an  opportunity  of  per 
plexing  the  old  potentate  of  the  Alhambra,  and  involving  him 
in  a  maze  of  legal  subtilities.  He  advised  the  captain-general 
to  insist  upon  the  right  of  examining  every  convoy  passing 
through  the  gates  of  his  city,  and  he  penned  a  long  letter  for 
him,  in  vindication  of  the  right.  Governor  Manco  was  a 
straight-forward,  cut-and-thrust  old  soldier,  who  hated  an 
Escribano  worse  than  the  devil,  and  this  one  in  particular, 
worse  than  all  other  Escribanoes. 

"What!"  said  he,  curling  up  his  mustachios  fiercely,  "  does 
the  captain-general  set  his  man  of  the  pen  to  practise  con 
fusions  upon  me?  I'll  let  him  see  that  an  old  soldier  is  not  to 
be  baffled  by  schoolcraft." 

He  seized  his  pen,  and  scrawled  a  short  letter  in  a  crabbed 
hand,  in  which,  without  deigning  to  enter  into  argument,  he 
insisted  on  the  right  of  transit  free  of  search,  and  denounced 
vengeance  on  any  custom-house  officer  who  should  lay  his  un 
hallowed  hand  on  any  convoy  protected  by  the  flag  of  the 
Alhambra. 


172  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

While  this  question  was  agitated  between  the  two  praginati 
cal  potentates,  it  so  happened  that  a  mule  laden  with  supplies 
for  the  fortress  arrived  one  day  at  the  gate  of  Xenil,  by  which 
it  was  to  traverse  a  suburb  of  the  city  on  its  way  to  the 
Alhambra.  The  convoy  was  headed  by  a  testy  old  corporal, 
who  had  long  served  under  the  governor,  and  was  a  man  after 
his  own  heart ;  as  trusty  and  staunch  as  an  old  toledo  blade. 
As  they  approached  the  gate  of  the  city,  the  corporal  placed 
the  banner  of  the  .Alhambra  on  the  pack  saddle  of  the  mule, 
and,  drawing  himself  up  to  a  perfect  perpendicular,  advanced 
with  his  head  dressed  to  the  front,  but  with  the  wary  side 
glance  of  a  cur  passing  through  hostile  grounds,  and  ready  for 
a  snap  and  a  snarl. 

"  Who  goes  there?"  said  the  sentinel  at  the  gate. 

"  Soldier  of  the  Alhambra,"  said  the  corporal,  without  turn 
ing  his  head. 

"  What  have  you  in  charge?" 

"Provisions  for  the  garrison." 

"Proceed." 

The  corporal  marched  straight  forward,  followed  by  the 
convoy,  but  had  not  advanced  many  paces,  before  a  posse  of 
custom-house  officer  rushed  out  of  a  small  toll-house. 

"Hallo  there!"  cried  the  leader:  "Muleteer,  halt  and  open 
those  packages." 

The  corporal  wheeled  round,  and  drew  himself  up  in  battle 
array.  "Respect  the  flag  of  the  Alhambra, "  said  he;  "these 
things  are  for  the  governor." 

"  A  fig  for  the  governor,  and  a  fig  for  his  flag.  Muleteer, 
halt,  I  say." 

"  Stop  the  convoy  at  your  peril!"  cried  the  corporal,  cocking 
his  musket.  "  Muleteer,  proceed." 

The  muleteer  gave  his  beast  a  hearty  thwack,  the  custom 
house  officer  sprang  forward,  and  seized  the  halter;  where 
upon  the  corporal  levelled  his  piece  and  shot  him  dead. 

The  street  was  immediately  in  an  uproar.  The  old  corporal 
was  seized,  and  after  undergoing  sundry  kicks  and  cuffs,  and 
cudgellingg,  which  are  generally  given  impromptu,  by  the 
mob  in  Spain,  as  a  foretaste  of  the  after  penalties  of  the  law, 
he  was  loaded  with  irons,  and  conducted  to  the  city  prison; 
while  his  comrades  were  permitted  to  proceed  with  the  convoy, 
after  it  had  been  well  rummaged,  to  the  Alhambra. 

The  old  governor  was  in  a  towering  passion,  when  he  heard 
of  this  insult  to  his  flag  and  capture  of  his  corporal.  For  a 


THE  GOVERNOR  AND  THE  NOTARY.  173 

time  he  stormed  about  the  Moorish  halls,  and  vapoured  about 
the  bastions,  and  looked  down  fire  and  sword  upon  the  palace 
of  the  captain-general.  Having  vented  the  fhvL  ebullition  of 
his  wrath,  he  despatched  a  message  demanding  the  surrender 
of  the  corporal,  as  to  him  alone  belonged  the  right  of  sitting 
in  judgment  on  the  offences  of  those  under  his  command. 
The  captain-general,  aided  by  the  pen  of  the  delighted  Escri- 
bano,  replied  at  great  length,  arguing  that  as  the  offence  had 
been  committed  within  the  walls  of  his  city,  and  against  one 
of  his  civil  officers,  it  was  clearly  within  his  proper  jurisdic 
tion.  The  governor  rejoined  by  a  repetition  of  his  demand; 
the  captain  general  gave  a  sur-re joinder  of  still  greater  length, 
and  legal  acumen;  the  governor  became  hotter  and  more  per 
emptory  in  his  demands,  and  the  captain-general  cooler  and 
more  copious  in  his  replies ;  until  the  old  lion-hearted  soldier 
absolutely  roared  with  fury,  at  being  thus  entangled  in  the 
meshes  of  legal  controversy. 

While  the  subtle  Escribano  was  thus  amusing  himself  at  the 
expense  of  the  governor,  he  was  conducting  the  trial  of  the 
corporal ;  who,  mewed  up  in  a  narrow  dungeon  of  the  prison, 
had  merely  a  small  grated  window  at  which  to  show  his  iron- 
bound  visage,  and  receive  the  consolations  of  his  friends;  a 
mountain  of  written  testimony  was  diligently  heaped  up,  ac 
cording  to  Spanish  form,  by  the  indefatigable  Escribano ;  the 
corporal  w.as  completely  overwhelmed  by  it.  He  was  con 
victed  of  murder,  and  sentenced  to  be  hanged. 

It  was  in  vain  the  governor  sent  down  remonstrance  and 
menace  from  the  Alhambra.  The  fatal  day  was  at  hand,  and 
the  corporal  was  put  in  capilla,  that  is  to  say,  in  the  chapel  of 
the  prison;  as  is  always  done  with  culprits  the  day  before 
execution,  that  they  may  meditate  on  their  approaching  end, 
and  repent  them  of  their  sins. 

Seeing  things  drawing  to  an  extremity,  the  old  governor 
determined  to  attend  to  the  affair  in  person.  For  this  purpose 
he  ordered  out  his  carriage  of  state,  and,  surrounded  by  his 
guards,  rumbled  down  the  avenue  of  the  Alhambra  into  the 
city.  Driving  to  the  house  of  the  Escribano,  he  summoned 
him  to  the  portal. 

The  eye  of  the  old  governor  gleamed  like  a  <  oal  at  beholding 
the  smirking  man  of  the  law  advancing  with  an  air  of  exul 
tation. 

"What  is  this  I  hear,"  cried  he,  "that  you  are  about  to  put 
to  death  one  of  my  soldiers?" 


174  THE  ALIIAMBRA. 

"All  according  to  law,— all  in  strict  form  of  justice,"  said 
the  self -sufficient  Escribano,  chuckling  and  rubbing  his  hands. 
"I  can  show  your  excellency  the  written  testimony  in  the 
case." 

"  Fetch  it  hither,"  said  the  governor. 

The  Escribano  bustled  into  his  office,  delighted  with  having 
another  opportunity  of  displaying  his  ingenuity  at  the  expense 
of  the  hard-headed  veteran.  He  returned  with  a  satchel  full 
of  papers,  and  began  to  read  a  long  deposition  with  profes 
sional  volubility.  By  this  time,  a  crowd  had  collected,  listen 
ing  with  outstretched  necks  and  gaping  mouths. 

"Pry'thee  man,  get  into  the  carriage  out  of  this  pestilent 
throng,  that  I  may  the  better  hear  thee,"  said  the  governor. 

The  Escribano  entered  the  carriage,  when,  in  a  twinkling, 
the  door  was  closed,  the  coachman  smacked  his  whip,  mules, 
carriage,  guards,  and  all  dashed  off  at  a  thundering  rate,  leav 
ing  the  crowd  in  gaping  wonderment,  nor  did  the  governor 
pause  until  he  had  lodged  his  prey  in  one  of  the  strongest 
dungeons  of  the  Alhambra. 

He  then  sent  down  a  flag  of  truce  in  military  style,  propos 
ing  a  cartel  or  exchange  of  prisoners,  the  corporal  for  the 
notary.  The  pride  of  the  captain-general  was  piqued,  he  re 
turned  a  contemptuous  refusal,  and  forthwith  caused  a  gal 
lows,  tall  and  strong,  to  be  erected  in  the  centre  of  the  Plaza 
Neuva,  for  the  execution  of  the  corporal. 

"O  ho!  is  that  the  game?"  said  Governor  Manco:  he  gave 
orders,  and  immediately  a  gibbet  was  reared  on  the  verge  of 
the  great  beetling  bastion  that  overlooked  the  Plaza.  "  Now," 
said  he,  in  a  message  to  the  captain-general,  ' '  hang  my  soldier 
when  you  please ;  but  at  the  same  time  that  he  is  swung  off  in 
the  square,  look  up  to  see  your  Escribano  dangling  against  the 
sky." 

The  captain-general  was  inflexible ;  troops  were  paraded  in 
the  square ;  the  drums  beat ;  the  bell  tolled ;  an  immense  mul 
titude  of  amateurs  had  collected  to  behold  the  execution;  on 
the  other  hand,  the  governor  paraded  his  garrison  on  the  bas 
tion,  and  tolled  the  funeral  dirge  of  the  notary  from  the  Torre 
de  la  Campana,  or  tower  of  the  bell. 

The  notary's  wife  pressed  through  the  crowd  with  a  whole 
progeny  of  little  embryo  Escribanoes  at  her  heels,  and  throw- 
ing  herself  at  the  feet  of  the  captain-general,  implored  him  not 
to  sacrifice  the  life  of  her  husband,  and  the  welfare  of  herself 
and  her  numerous,  little  ones  to  a  point  of  pride;  "for  you 


GOVERNOR  MANGO  AND   THE  SOLDIER.  175 

know  the  old  governor  too  well,"  said  she,  "to  doubt  that  he 
will  put  his  threat  in  execution  if  you  hang  the  soldier." 

The  captain-general  was  overpowered  by  her  tears  and  lam 
entations,  and  the  clamours  of  her  callow  brood.  The  corporal 
was  sent  up  to  the  Alhambra  under  a  guard,  in  his  gallows 
garb,  like  a  hooded  friar ;  but  with  head  erect  and  a  face  of 
iron.  The  Escribano  was  demanded  in  exchange,  according  to 
the  cartel.  The  once  bustling  and  self-sufficient  man  of  the 
law  was  drawn  forth  from  his  dungeon,  more  dead  than  alive. 
All  his  flippancy  and  conceit  had  evaporated ;  his  hair,  it  is 
said,  had  nearly  turned  gray  with  affright,  and  he  had  a  down 
cast,  dogged  look,  as  if  he  still  felt  the  halter  round  his  neck. 

The  old  governor  stuck  his  one  arm  a-kimbo,  and  for  a  mo 
ment  surveyed  him  with  an  iron  smile.  "Henceforth,  my 
friend,"  said  he,  "moderate  your  zeal  in  hurrying  others  to 
the  gallows;  be  not  too  certain  of  your  own  safety,  even 
though  you  should  have  the  law  on  your  side ;  and,  above  all, 
take  care  how  you  play  off  your  schoolcraft  another  time  upon 
an  old  soldier." 


GOVERNOR  MANGO  AND  THE  SOLDIER. 

WHEN  Governor  Manco,  or  the  one-armed,  kept  up  a  show  of 
military  state  in  the  Alhambra,  he  became  nettled  at  the  re 
proaches  continually  cast  upon  his  fortress  of  being  a  nestling 
place  of  rogues  and  contrabandistas.  On  a  sudden,  the  old 
potentate  determined  on  reform,  and  setting  vigorously  to 
work,  ejected  whole  nests  of  vagabonds  out  of  the  fortress, 
and  the  gypsy  caves  with  which  the  surrounding  hills  are 
honey-combed.  He  sent  out  soldiers,  also,  to  patrol  the 
avenues  and  footpaths,  with  orders  to  take  up  all  suspicious 
persons. 

One  bright  summer  morning,  a  patrol  consisting  of  the  testy 
old  corporal  who  had  distinguished  himself  in  the  affair  of 
the  notary,  a  trumpeter  and  two  privates  were  seated  under 
the  garden  wall  of  the  Generaliffe,  beside  the  road  which  leads 
down  from  the  mountain  of  the  Sun,  when  they  heard  the 
tramp  of  a  horse,  and  a  male  voice  singing  in  rough,  though 
not  unmusical  tones,  an  old  Castilian  campaigning  song. 

Presently  they  beheld  a  sturdy,  sun-burnt  fellow  clad  in  the 


176  THE  AL1IAMBRA. 

ragged  garb  of  a  foot-soldier,   leading  a  powerful  Arabian 
horse  caparisoned  in  the  ancient  Morisco  fashion. 

Astonished  at  the  sight  of  a  strange  soldier,  descending, 
steed  in   hand,   from    that   solitary  mountain,   the   corporal 
stepped  forth  and  challenged  him. 
"Who  goes  there?" 
"  A  friend.  " 

"  Who,  and  what  are  you?" 

"A  poor  soldier,  just  from  the  wars,  with  a  cracked  crown 
and  empty  purse  for  a  reward." 

By  this  time  they  were  enabled  to  view  him  more  narrowly. 
He  had  a  black  patch  across  his  forehead,  which,  with  a  griz 
zled  beard,  added  to  a  certain  dare-devil  cast  of  countenance, 
while  a  slight  squint  threw  into  the  whole  an  occasional  gleam 
of  roguish  good-humour. 

Having  answered  the  questions  of  the  patrol,  the  soldier 
seemed  to  consider  himself  entitled  to  make  others  in  return. 
"May  I  ask,"  said  he,  "  what  city  is  this  which  I  see  at  the 
foot  of  the  hill?" 

"What  city!"  cried  the  trumpeter;  "come,  that's  too  bad. 
Here's  a  fellow  lurking  about  the  mountain  of  the  Sun,  and 
demands  the  name  of  the  great  city  of  Granada." 
"Granada!  Madre  de  Dios!  can  it  be  possible!" 
"Perhaps  not!"  rejoined  the  trumpeter,  "and  perhaps  you 
have  no  idea  that  yonder  are  the  towers  of  the  Alhambra?" 

"  Son  of  a  trumpet,"  replied  the  stranger,  "do  not  trifle  with 
me ;  if  this  be  indeed  the  Alhambra,  I  have  some  strange  mat 
ters  to  reveal  to  the  governor. " 

"You  will  have  an  opportunity,"  said  the  corporal,  "  for  we 
mean  to  take  you  before  him." 

By  this  time  the  trumpeter  had  seized  the  bridle  of  the  steed, 
the  two  privates  had  each  secured  an  arm  of  the  soldier,  the 
corporal  put  himself  in  front,  gave  the  word,  "forward, 
march !"  and  away  they  marched  for  the  Alhambra. 

The  sight  of  a  ragged  foot-soldier  and  a  fine  Arabian  horse 
brought  in  captive  by  the  patrol,  attracted  the  attention  of  all 
the  idlers  of  the  fortress,  and  of  those  gossip  groups  that  gen 
erally  assemble  about  wells  and  fountains  at  enrly  dawn.  The 
wheel  of  the  cistern  paused  in  its  rotations;  fho  plipshod  ser 
vant-maid  stood  gaping  with  pitcher  in  hand,  as  the  corporal 
passed  by  with  his  prize.  A  motley  train  gradually  gathered 
in  thefjear  of  the  escort.  Knowing  nods,  and  winks,  and  con 
jectures  passed  from  one  to  another.  It  is  a  deserter,  said 


GOVERNOR  MANGO  AND   THE  SOLDIER.  377 

one;  a  contrabandist^  said  another;  a  bandalero,  said  a  third, 
until  it  was  affirmed  that  a  captain  of  a  desperate  band  of 
robbers  had  been  captured  by  the  prowess  of  the  corporal  and 
his  patrol.  ' '  Well,  well, "  said  the  old  crones  one  to  another 
"  captain  or  not,  let  him  get  out  of  the  grasp  of  old  Governor 
Manco  if  he  can,  though  he  is  but  one-handed. " 

Governor  Manco  was  seated  in  one  of  the  inner  halls  of  the 
Alhambra,  taking  his  morning's  cup  of  chocolate  in  company 
with  his  confessor,  a  fat  Franciscan  friar  from  the  neighbour 
ing  convent.  A  demure,  dark-eyed  damsel  of  Malaga,  the 
daughter  of  his  housekeeper,  wa,s  attending  upon  him. 

The  world  hinted  that  the  damsel,  who,  with  all  her  demure- 
ness,  was  a  sly,  buxom  baggage,  had  found  out  a  soft  spot 
in  the  iron  heart  of  the  old  governor,  and  held  complete  con 
trol  over  him,— but  let  that  pass;  the  domestic  affairs  of  these 
mighty  potentates  of  the  earth  should  not  be  too  narrowly 
scrutinized. 

When  word  was  brought  that;  a   suspicious   stranger  had 
been  taken  lurking  about  the  fortress,  and  was  actually  in  the 
outer  court,  in  durance  of  the  corporal,  waiting  the  pleasure 
of  his  excellency,  the  pride  and  stateliness  of  office  swelled  the 
bosom  of  the  governor.     Giving  back  his  chocolate  cup  into 
the  hands  of  the  demure  damsel,  he  called  for  his  basket-hilted 
sword,  girded  it  to  his  side,  twirled  up  his  mustachios,  took 
his  seat  in  a  large  high-backed  chair,  assumed  a  bitter  and  for 
bidding  aspect,  and  ordered  the  prisoner  into  his  presence 
The  soldier  was  brought  in,  still  closely  pinioned  by  his  cap 
tors,  and  guarded  by  the  corporal.     He  maintained,  however 
a  resolute,  self-confident  air,  and  returned  the  sharp,  scruti 
nizing  look  of  the  governor  with  an  easy  squint,  which  by  no 
means  pleased  the  punctilious  old  potentate. 

"Well,  culprit!"  said  the  governor,  after  he  had  regarded 
him  for  a  moment  in  silence,  "  what  have  you  to  say  for  your 
self?  who  are  you?" 

"A  soldier,  just  from  the  wars,  who  has  brought  away 
nothing  but  scars  and  bruises." 

"A  soldier?  humph!  a  foot-soldier  by  your  garb.  I  under 
stand  you  have  a  fine  Arabian  horse.  I  presume  you  brought 
him  too  from  the  wars,  beside  your  scars  and  bruises." 

May  it  please  your  excellency,  I  have  something  strange 
11  about  that  horse.     Indeed,  I  have  one  of  the  most  won 
derful  things  to  relate— something  too  that  concerns  the  secu 
rity  of  this  fortress,  indeed,  of  all  Granada.     But  it  is  a  malic  • 


178  T1IE  ALI1AMBRA. 

to  be  imparted  only  to  your  private  ear,  or  in  presence  of  such 
only  as  are  in  your  confidence." 

The  governor  considered  for  a  moment,  and  then  directed  the 
corporal  and  his  men  to  withdraw,  but  to  post  themselves  out 
side  of  the  door,  and  be  ready  at  call.  "  This  holy  friar,"  said 
he,  "  is  my  confessor,  you  may  say  anything  in  his  presence- 
and  this  damsel,"  nodding  towards  the  handmaid,  who  had 
loitered  with  an  air  of  great  curiosity,  "  this  damsel  is  of  great 
secrecy  and  discretion,  and  to  be  trusted  with  any  thing." 

The  soldier  gave  a  glance  between  a  squint  and  a  leer  at  the 
demure  handmaid.  "lam  perfectly  willing,"  said  he,  "that 
the  damsel  should  remain." 

When  all  the  rest  had  withdrawn,  the  soldier  commenced 
his  story.  He  was  a  fluent,  smooth-tongued  varlet,  and  had  a 
command  of  language  above  his  apparent  rank. 

"May  it  please  your  excellency,"  said  he,  ' '  I  am,  as  I  before 
observed,  a  soldier,  and  have  seen  some  hard  service,  but  my 
term  of  enlistment  being  expired,  I  was  discharged  not  long 
since  from  the  army  at  Valladolid,  and  set  out  ontfoot  for  my 
native  village  in  Andalusia.  Yesterday  evening  the  sun  went 
down  as  I  was  traversing  a  great  dry  plain  of  old  Castile." 

"Hold!"  cried  the  governor,  "what  is  this  you  say?  Old 
Castile  is  some  two  or  three  hundred  miles  from  this." 

"Even  so,"  replied  the  soldier,  coolly,  "I  told  your  excel- 
lency  I  had  strange  things  to  relate— but  not  more  strange 
than  true— as  your  excellency  will  find,  if  you  will  deign  me  a 
patient  hearing. " 

"Proceed,  culprit,"  said  the  governor,  twirling  up  his  mus- 
tachios. 

"As  the  sun  went  down,"  continued  the  soldier,  "  I  cast  my 
eyes  about  in  search  of  some  quarters  for  the  night,  but  far  as 
my  sight  could  reach,  there  were  no  signs  of  habitation.  I  saw 
that  I  should  have  to  make  my  bed  on  the  naked  plain,  with 
my  knapsack  for  a  pillow ;  but  your  excellency  is  an  old  sol 
dier,  and  knows  that  to  one  who  has  been  in  the  wars,  such  a 
night's  lodging  is  no  great  hardship." 

The  governor  nodded  assent,  as  he  drew  his  pocket-handker 
chief  out  of  the  basket-hilt  of  his  sword,  to  drive  away  a  fly 
that  buzzed  about  his  nose. 

"Well,  to  make  a  long  story  short,"  continued  the  soldier, 
"  I  trudged  forward  for  several  miles,  until  I  came  to  a  bridge 
o^er  n  deep  ravine,  through  which  ran  a  little  thread  of  water, 
almost  dried  up  by  the  summer  heat.  At  one  end  of  the  bridge 


GOVERNOR  MANGO  AND  THE  SOLDIER.          179 

a  Moorish  tower,  the  upper  part  all  in  ruins,  but  a  vault 
iis  the  foundations  quite  entire.  Here,  thinks  I,  is  a  good  place 
to  make  a  halt.  So  I  went  down  to  the  stream,  took  a  hearty 
drinfc,  for  the  water  was  pure  and  sweet,  and  I  was  parched 
with  thirst,  then  opening  my  wallet,  I  took  out  an  onion  and 
a  few  crusts,  which  were  all  my  provisions,  and  seating  myself 
on  a  stone  on  the  margin  of  the  stream,  began  to  make  my 
supper ;  intending  afterwards  to  quarter  myself  for  the  night 
in  the  vault  of  the  tower,  and  capital  quarters  they  would  have 
been  ror  a  campaigner  just  from  the  wars,  as  your  excellency, 
who  is  an  old  soldier,  may  suppose." 

"I  have  put  up  gladly  with  worse  in  my  time,"  said  the 
governor,  returning  his  pocket-handkerchief  into  the  hilt  of 
his  sword. 

"While  I  was  quietly  crunching  my  crust,"  pursued  the 
soldier,  '; I  heard  something  stir  within  the  vault;  I  listened: 
it  was  the  tramp  of  a  horse.  By  and  by  a  man  came  forth 
from  a  door  in  the  foundation  of  the  tower,  close  by  the 
water's  edge,  leading  a  powerful  horse  by  the  bridle.  I  could 
not  well  make  out  what  he  was  by  the  starlight.  It  had  a 
suspicious  looK  to  be  lurking  among  the  ruins  of  a  tower  in 
that  wild  solitary  place.  He  might  be  a  mere  wayfarer  like 
myself ;  he  might  be  a  contrabandista ;  he  might  be  a  banda- 
lero!  What  of  that,—  thank  heaven  and  my  poverty,  I  had 
nothing  to  lose, — so  I  sat  still  and  crunched  my  crusts. 

"He  led  his  horse  to  the  water  close  by  where  I  was  sitting, 
so  that  I  had  a  fair  opportunity  of  reconnoitring  him.  To  my 
surprise,  he  was  dressed  in  a  Moorish  garb,  with  a  cuirass  of 
steel,  and  a  polished  skullcap,  that  I  distinguished  by  the  re 
flection  of  the  stars  upon  it.  His  horse,  too,  was  harnessed  in 
the  Morisco  fashion,  with  great  shovel  stirrups.  He  led  him, 
as  I  said,  to  the  side  of  the  stream,  into  which  the  animal 
plunged  his  head  almost  to  the  eyes,  and  drank  until  I  thought 
he  would  have  burst. 

u  '  Comrade,'  said  I,  *  your  steed  drinks  well;  it's  a  good  sign 
when  a  horse  plunges  his  muzzle  bravely  into  the  water. ' 

"  'He  may  well  drink,'  said  the  stranger,  speaking  with  a 
Moorish  accent;  'it  is  a  good  year  since  he  had  his  last 
draught.' 

"  'By  Santiago,'  said  I,  'that  beats  even  the  camels  that  I 
have  seen  in  Africa.  But  come,  you  seem  to  be  something  of 
a  soldier,  won't  you  sit  down,  and  take  part  of  a  soldier's  fare? ' 
— In  fact,  I  felt  the  want  of  a  companion  in  this  lonely  place, 


180  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

and  was  willing  to  put  up  with  an  infidel.  Besides,  as  your 
excellency  well  knows,  a  soldier  is  never  very  particular  about 
the  faith  of  Ins  company,  and  soldiers  of  all  countries  are  com 
rades  on  peaceable  ground." 

The  governor  again  nodded  assent. 

' '  Well,  as  I  was  saying,  I  invited  him  to  share  my  supper, 
such  as  it  was,  for  I  could  not  do  less  in  common  hospitality. 

k'  'I  have  no  time  to  pause  for  meat  or  drink,'  said  he,  '1 
have  a  long  journey  to  make  before  morning.' 

"  '  In  which  direction? '  said  I. 

' ' '  Andalusia, '  said  he. 

"  '  Exactly  my  route, '  said  I.  '  So  as  you  won't  stop  and  eat 
with  me,  perhaps  you'll  let  me  mount  and  ride  with  you.  I 
see  your  horse  is  of  a  powerful  frame :  I'll  warrant  he'll  carry 
double. ' 

"Agreed,'  said  the  trooper;  and  it  would  not  have  been 
civil  and  soldierlike  to  refuse,  especially  as  I  had  offered  to 
share  my  supper  with  him.  So  up  he  mounted,  and  up  I 
mounted  behind  him. 

"  ' Hold  fast,'  said  he,  'my  steed  goes  like  the  wind.' 

"  *  Never  fear  me,'  said  I,  and  so  off  we  set. 

' '  From  a  walk  the  horse  soon  passed  to  a  trot,  from  a  trot  to 
a  gallop,  and  from  a  gallop  to  a  harum-scarum  scamper.  It 
seemed  as  if  rocks,  trees,  houses,  everything,  flew  hurry-scurry 
behind  us. 

"  '  What  town  is  this? '  said  I. 

"  '  Segovia,'  said  he;  and  before  the  words  were  out  of  his 
mouth,  the  towers  of  Segovia  were  out  of  sight.  We  swept  up 
the  Guadarama  mountains,  and  down  by  the  Escurial ;  and  we 
skirted  the  walls  of  Madrid,  and  we  scoured  away  across  the 
plains  of  La  Mancha.  In  this  way  we  went  up  hill  and  down 
dale,  by  towns  and  cities  all  buried  in  deep  sleep,  and  across 
mountains,  and  plains,  and  rivers,  just  glimmering  in  the  star 
light. 

•' '  To  make  a  long  story  short,  and  not  to  fatigue  your  excel 
lency,  the  trooper  suddenly  pulled  up  on  the  side  of  a  moun 
tain.  '  Here  we  are, '  said  he,  '  at  the  end  of  our  journey. ' 

"I  looked  about  but  could  see  no  signs  of  habitation:  noth 
ing  but  the  mouth  of  a  cavern :  while  I  looked,  I  saw  multitudes 
of  people  in  Moorish  dresses,  some  on  horseback,  some  on  foot, 
arriving  as  if  borne  by  the  wind  from  all  points  of  the  compass, 
and  hurrying  into  the  mouth  of  the  cavern  like  bees  into  a 
hive.  Before  I  could  ask  a  question,  the  trooper  struck  hia 


GOVERNOR  MANGO  AND   THE  SOLDIER. 

long  Moorish  spurs  into  the  horse's  flanks,  and  dashed  in  with 
the  throng.  We  passed  along  a  steep  winding  way  that  de 
scended  into  the  very  bowels  of  the  mountain.  As  we  pushed 
on,  a  light  began  to  glimmer  up  by  little  and  little,  like  the 
first  glimmerings  of  day,  but  what  caused  it,  1  could  not  dis 
cover.  It  grew  stronger  and  stronger,  and  enabled  me  to  see 
everything  around.  I  now  noticed  as  we  passed  along,  great 
caverns  opening  to  the  right  and  left,  like  halls  in  an  arsenal. 
In  some  there  were  shields,  and  helmets,  and  cuirasses,  and 
lances,  and  scimitars  hanging  against  the  walls;  in  others, 
there  were  great  heaps  of  warlike  munitions  and  camp  equi 
page  lying  upon  the  ground. 

"  It  would  have  done  your  excellency's  heart  good,  being  an 
old  soldier,  to  have  seen  such  grand  provision  for  war.  Then 
in  other  caverns  there  were  long  rows  of  horsemen,  armed  to 
the  teeth,  with  lances  raised  and  banners  unfurled,  aU  ready 
for  the  field ;  but  they  all  sat  motionless  in  their  saddles  like 
so  many  statues.  In  other  halls,  were  warriors  sleeping  on  the 
ground  beside  their  horses,  and  foot  soldiers  in  groups,  ready 
to  fall  into  the  ranks.  All  were  in  old-fashioned  Moorish 
dresses  and  armour. 

"Well,  your  excellency,  to  cut  a  long  story  short,  we  at 
length  entered  an  immense  cavern,  or  I  might  say  palace,  of 
grotto  work,  the  walls  of  which  seemed  to  be  veined  with  gold 
and  silver,  and  to  sparkle  with  diamonds  and  sapphires,  and 
all  kinds  of  precious  stones.  At  the  upper  end  sat  a  Moorish 
king  on  a  golden  throne,  with  his  nobles  on  each  side,  and  a 
guard  of  African  blacks  with  drawn  scimitars.  All  the  crowd 
that  continued  to  flock  in,  and  amounted  to  thousands  and 
thousands,  passed  one  by  one  before  his  throne,  each  paying 
homage  as  he  passed.  Some  of  the  multitude  were  dressed  in 
magnificent  robes,  without  stain  or  blemish,  and  sparkling 
with  jewels ;  others  in  burnished  and  enamelled  armour ;  while 
others  were  in  mouldered  and  mildewed  garments,  and  in 
armour  all  battered  and  dinted,  and  covered  with  rust. 

"I.  had  hitherto  held  my  tongue,  for  your  excellency  well 
knows,  it  is  not  for  a  soldier  to  ask  many  questions  when  on 
duty,  but  I  could  keep  silence  no  longer. 

'"Pr'ythee,  comrade,'  said  I,  'what  is  the  meaning  of  all 
this?' 

'This,'  said  the  trooper,  '  is  a  great  and  powerful  mystery. 
Know,  O  Christian,  that  you  see  before  you  the  court  and 
army  of  Boabdil,  the  last  king  of  Granada T 


182  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

"  'What  is  this  you  teU  me!'  cried  I.  'Boabdil  and  his 
court  were  exiled  from  the  land  hundreds  of  years  agone,  and 
all  died  in  Africa. ' 

"  'So  it  is  recorded  in  your  lying  chronicles,'  replied  the 
Moor,  'but  know  that  Boabdil  and  the  warriors  who  made 
the  last  struggle  for  Granada  were  all  shut  up  in  this  moun* 
tain  by  powerful  enchantment.  As  to  the  king  and  army  that 
marched  forth  from  Granada  at  the  time  of  the  surrender, 
they  were  a  mere  phantom  train,  or  spirits  and  demons  per 
mitted  to  assume  those  shapes  to  deceive  the  Christian  sove 
reigns.  And  furthermore  let  me  tell  you,  friend,  that  all  Spain 
is  a  country  under  the  power  of  enchantment.  There  is  not  a 
mountain-cave,  not  a  lonely  watch-tower  in  the  plains,  nor 
ruined  castle  on  the  hills,  but  has  some  spell-bound  warriors 
sleeping  from  age  to  age  within  its  vaults,  until  the  sins  are 
expiated  for  which  Allah  permitted  the  dominion  to  pass  for  a 
time  out  of  the  hands  of  the  faithful.  Once  every  year,  on  the 
eve  of  St.  John,  they  are  released  from  enchantment  from  sun 
set  to  sunrise,  and  permitted  to  repair  here  to  pay  homage  to 
their  sovereign ;  and  the  crowds  which  you  beheld  swarming 
into  the  cavern  are  Moslem  warriors  from  their  haunts  in  all 
parts  of  Spain ;  for  my  own  part,  you  saw  the  ruined  tower  of 
the  bridge  in  old  Castile,  where  I  have  now  wintered  and  sum 
mered  for  many  hundred  years,  and  where  I  must  be  back 
again  by  day -break.  As  to  the  battalions  of  horse  and  foot 
which  you  beheld  drawn  up  in  array  in  the  neighbouring  cav 
erns,  they  are  the  spell-bound  warriors  of  Granada.  It  is 
written  in  the  book  of  fate,  that  when  the  enchantment  is 
broken,  Boabdil  will  descend  from  the  mountains  at  the  head 
of  this  army,  resume  his  throne  in  the  Alhambra  and  his  sway 
of  Granada,  and  gathering  together  the  enchanted  warriors 
from  all  parts  of  Spain,  will  reconquer  the  peninsula,  and  re 
store  it  to  Moslem  rule. ' 

"  '  And  when  shall  this  happen?'  said  I. 

* '  '  Allah  alone  knows.  We  had  hoped  the  day  of  deliver 
ance  was  at  hand ;  but  there  reigns  at  present  a  vigilant  gov 
ernor  in  Alhambra,  a  staunch  old  soldier,  the  same  called 
Governor  Manco ;  while  such  a  warrior  holds  command  of  the 
very  outpost,  and  stands  ready  to  check  the  first  irruption 
from  the  mountain,  I  fear  Boabdil  and  his  soldiery  must  be 
content  to  rest  upon  their  arms. ' " 

Here  the  governor  raised  himself  somewhat  perpendicularly, 
adjusted  his  sword,  and  twirled  up  his  mustachios. 


GOVERNOR  MANGO  AND  THE  SOLDIER.          183 

"  To  make  a  long  story  short,  and  not  to  fatigue  your  excel 
lency,  the  trooper  having  given  me  this  account,  dismounted 
from  his  steed. 

"  '  Tarry  here,'  said  he,  *  and  guard  my  steed,  while  I  go  and 
bow  the  knee  to  Boabdil.'  So  saying,  he  strode  away  among 
the  throng  that  pressed  forward  to  the  throne. 

"What's  to  be  done?  thought  I,  when  thus  left  to  myself. 
Shall  I  wait  here  until  this  infidel  returns  to  whisk  me  off  on 
his  goblin  steed,  the  Lord  knows  where?  or  shall  I  make  the 
most  of  my  time,  and  beat  a  retreat  from  this  hobgoblin  com 
munity?— A  soldier's  mind  is  soon  made  up,  as  your  excellency 
well  knows.  As  to  the  horse,  he  belonged  to  an  avowed  enemy 
of  the  faith  and  the  realm,  and  was  a  fair  prize  according  to 
the  rules  of  war.  So  hoisting  myself  from  the  crupper  into 
the  saddle,  I  turned  the  reins,  struck  the  Moorish  stirrups 
into  the  sides  of  the  steed,  and  put  him  to  make  the  best  of  his 
way  out  of  tfre  passage  by  which  we  had  entered.  As  we 
scoured  by  the  halls  where  the  Moslem  horsemen  sat  in 
motionless  battalions,  I  thought  I  heard  the  clang  of  armour, 
and  a  hollow  murmur  of  voices.  I  gave  the  steed  another 
taste  of  the  stirrups,  and  doubled  my  speed.  There  was  now  a 
sound  behind  me  like  a  rushing  blast ;  I  heard  the  clatter  of  a 
thousand  hoofs ;  a  countless  throng  overtook  me ;  I  was  borne 
along  in  the  press,  and  hurled  forth  from  the  mouth  of  the 
cavern,  while  thousands  of  shadowy  forms  were  swept  off  in 
every  direction  by  the  four  winds  of  heaven. 

"In  the  whirl  and  confusion  of  the  scene,  I  was  thrown 
from  the  saddle,  and  fell  senseless  to  the  earth.  When  I  came 
to  myself  I  was  lying  on  the  brow  of  a  hill,  with  the  Arabian 
steed  standing  beside  me,  for  in  falling  my  arm  had  slipped 
within  the  bridle,  which,  I  presume,  prevented  his  whisking 
off  to  old  Castile. 

' '  Your  excellency  may  easily  judge  of  my  surprise  on  look 
ing  round,  to  behold  hedges  of  aloes  and  Indian  figs,  and  other 
proofs  of  a  southern  climate,  and  see  a  great  city  below  me 
with  towers  and  palaces,  and  a  grand  cathedral.  I  descended 
the  hill  cautiously,  leading  my  steed,  for  I  was  afraid  to 
mount  him  again,  lest  he  should  play  me  some  slippery  trick. 
As  I  descended,  I  met  with  your  patrol,  who  let  me  into  the 
secret  that  it  was  Granada  that  lay  before  me :  and  that  I  was 
actually  under  the  walls  of  the  Alhambra,  the  fortress  of  the 
redoubted  Governor  Manco,  the  terror  of  all  enchanted  Mos 
lems.  Wlien  I  heard  this,  I  determined  at  once  to  seek  your 


184  THE  ALHAMBfiA. 

excellency,  to  inform  you  of  all  that  I  had  seen,  and  to  warn 
you  of  the  perils  that  surround  and  under  line  you,  that  you 
may  take  measures  in  time  to  guard  your  fortress,  and  the 
kingdom  itself,  from  this  intestine  army  chat  lurks  in  the  very 
bowels  of  the  land. " 

"And  pr'ythee,  friend,  you  who  are  a  veteran  campaigner, 
and  have  seen  so  much  service,"  said  the  governor,  "how 
would  you  advise  me  to  go  about  to  prevent  this  evil?" 

"It  is  not  for  an  humble  private  of  the  ranks,"  said  the 
soldier  modestly,  "to  pretend  to  instruct  a  commander  of 
your  excellency's  sagacity;  but  it  appears  to  me  that  your 
excellency  might  cause  all  the  caves  and  entrances  into  the 
mountain  to  be  walled  up  with  solid  mason-work,  so  that 
Boabdil  and  his  army  might  be  completely  corked  up  in  their 
subterranean  habitation.  If  the  good  father  too, "  added  the 
soldier,  reverently  bowing  to  the  friar,  and  devoutly  crossing 
himself,  "would  consecrate  the  barricadoes  with  his  blessing, 
and  put  up  a  few  crosses  and  reliques,  and  images  of  saints,  I 
think  they  might  withstand  all  the  power  of  infidel  enchant 
ments.  " 

"  They  doubtless  would  be  of  great  avail,"  said  the  friar. 

The  governor  now  placed  his  arm  a-kimbo,  with  his  hand 
resting  on  the  hilt  of  his  toledo,  fixed  his  eye  upon  the  soldier, 
and  gently  wagging  his  head  from  one  side  to  the  other : 

"So,  friend,"  said  he,  "  then  you  really  suppose  I  am  to  be 
gulled  with  this  cock-and-bull  story  about  enchanted  moun 
tains,  and  enchanted  Moors.  Hark  ye,  culprit !— not  another 
word.— An  old  soldier  you  may  be,  but  you'll  find  you  have 
an  old  soldier  to  deal  with;  and  one  not  easily  outgeneralled. 
Ho!  guard  there!— put  this  fellow  in  irons." 

The  demure  handmaid  would  have  put  in  a  word  in  favour 
of  the  prisoner,  but  the  governor  silenced  her  with  a  look. 

As  they  were  pinioning  the  soldier,  one  of  the  guards  felt 
something  of  bulk  in  his  pocket,  and  drawing  it  forth,  found  a 
long  leathern  purse  that  appeared  to  be  well  filled.  Holding  it 
by  one  corner,  he  turned  out  the  contents  on  the  table  before 
the  governor,  and  never  dia  freebooter's  bag  make  more  gor 
geous  delivery.  Out  tumbled  rings  and  jewels,  and  rosaries  of 
pearls,  and  sparkling  diamond  crosses,  and  a  profusion  of  an 
cient  golden  coin,  some  of  which  fell  jingling  to  the  floor,  and 
rolled  away  to  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  chamber. 

Fora  time  the  functions  of  justice  were  suspended:  there 
was  a  universal  scramble  after  the  glittering  fugitives.  The 


GOVERNOR  MANGO  AND   THE  SOLDIER. 

governor  alone,  who  was  imbued  with  true  Spanish  pride, 
maintained  his  stately  decorum,  though  his  eye  betrayed  a 
little  anxiety  until  the  last  coin  and  jewel  was  restored  to  the 
sack. 

The  friar  was  not  so  calm;  his  whole  face  glowed  like  a  fur 
nace,  and  his  eyes  twinkled  and  flashed  at  sight  of  the  rosaries 
and  crosses. 

"  Sacrilegious  wretch  that  thou  art,"  exclaimed  he,  "what 
church,  or  sanctuary  hast  thou  been  plundering  of  these  sacred 
reliques?" 

"Neither  one  nor  the  other,  holy  father.  If  they  be  sacrile 
gious  spoils,  they  must  have  been  taken  in  times  long  past  by 
the  infidel  trooper  I  have  mentioned.  I  was  just  going  to  tell 
his  excellency,  when  he  interrupted  me,  that,  on  taking  pos 
session  of  the  trooper's  horse,  I  unhooked  a  leathern  sack  which 
hung  at  the  saddle  bow,  and  which,  I  presume,  contained  the 
plunder  of  his  campaignings  in  days  of  old,  when  the  Moors 
overran  the  country." 

"  Mighty  well,— at  present  you  will  make  up  your  mind  to 
take  up  your  quarters  in  a  chamber  of  the  Vermilion  towers, 
which,  though  not  under  a  magic  spell,  will  hold  you  as  safe  as 
any  cave  of  your  enchanted  Moors." 

"  Your  exceUency  will  do  as  you  think  proper,"  said  the  pri 
soner  coolly.  "  I  shall  be  thankful  to  your  excellency  for  any 
accommodation  in  the  fortress.  A  soldier  who  has  been  in  the 
wars,  as  your  excellency  well  knows,  is  not  particular  about 
Ms  lodgings;  and  provided  I  have  a  snug  dungeon  and  regular 
rations,  I  shall  manage  to  make  myself  comfortable.  I  would 
only  entreat,  that  while  your  excellency  is  so  careful  about  me, 
you  would  have  an  eye  to  your  fortress,  and  think  on  the  hint 
I  dropped  about  stopping  up  the  entrances  to  the  moun 
tain." 

Here  ended  the  scene.  The  prisoner  was  conducted  to  a 
strong  dungeon  in  the  Vermilion  towers,  the  Arabian  steed 
was  led  to  his  excellency's  stable,  and  the  trooper's  sack  was 
deposited  in  his  excellency's  strong  box.  To  the  latter,  it  is 
true,  the  friar  made  some  demur,  questioning  whether  the 
sacred  reliques,  which  were  evidently  sacrilegious  spoils,  should 
not  be  placed  in  custody  of  the  church;  but  as  the  governor 
was  peremptory  on  the  subject,  and  was  absolute  lord  in  the 
Alhambra,  the  friar  discreetly  dropped  the  discussion,  but  de 
termined  to  convey  intelligence  of  the  fact  to  the  church  dig 
nitaries  in  Granada. 


186 

To  explain  these  prompt  and  rigid  measures  on  the  part  of 
old  Governor  Manco,  it  is  proper  to  observe,  that  about  this 
time  the  Alpuxarra  mountains  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Gra 
nada  were  terribly  infected  by  a  gang  of  robbers,  under  the 
command  of  a  daring  chief  named  Manuel  Borasco,  who  were 
accustomed  to  prowl  about  the  country,  and  even  to  enter  the 
city  in  various  disguises  to  gain  intelligence  of  the  departure 
of  convoys  of  merchandise,  or  travellers  with  well-lined  purses, 
whom  they  took  care  to  waylay  in  distant  and  solitary  passe? 
of  their  road.  These  repeated  and  daring  outrages  had  awak- 
ened  the  attention  of  government,  and  the  commanders  of  the 
various  posts  had  received  instructions  to  be  on  the  alert,  and 
to  take  up  all  suspicious  stragglers.  Governor  Manco  was  par 
ticularly  zealous,  in  consequence  of  the  various  stigmas  that 
had  been  cast  upon  his  fortress,  and  he  now  doubted  not  that 
he  had  entrapped  some  formidable  desperado  of  this  gang. 

In  the  mean  time  the  story  took  wind,  and  became  the  talk 
not  merely  of  the  fortress,  but  of  the  whole  city  of  Granada. 
It  was  said  that  the  noted  robber,  Manuel  Borasco ,  the  terror 
of  the  Alpuxarras,  had  fallen  into  the  clutches  of  old  Governor 
Manco,  and  been  cooped  up  by  him  in  a  dungeon  of  the  Ver 
milion  towers,  and  every  one  who  had  been  robbed  by  him 
flocked  to  recognize  the  marauder.  The  Vermilion  towers,  as 
is  well  known,  stand  apart  from  the  Alhambra,  on  a  sister  hill 
separated  from  the  main  fortress  by  the  ravine,  down  which 
passes  the  main  avenue.  There  were  no  outer  walls,  but  a  sen 
tinel  patrolled  before  the  tower.  The  window  of  the  chamber 
in  which  the  soldier  was  confined  was  strongly  grated,  and 
looked  upon  a  small  esplanade.  Here  the  good  folks  of  Gra 
nada  repaired  to  gaze  at  him,  as  they  would  at  a  laughing 
hyena  grinning  through  the  cage. of  a  menagerie.  Nobody, 
however,  recognized  him  for  Manuel  Borasco,  for  that  terrible 
robber  was  noted  for  a  ferocious  physiognomy,  and  had  by  no 
means  the  good-humoured  squint  of  the  prisoner.  Visitors 
came  not  merely  from  the  city,  but  from  all  parts  of  the  coun 
try,  but  nobody  knew  him,  and  there  began  to  be  doubts  in  the 
minds  of  the  common  people,  whether  there  might  not  be  some 
truth  in  his  story.  That  Boabdil  and  his  army  were  shut  up  in 
the  mountain,  was  an  old  tradition  which  many  of  the  ancient 
inhabitants  had  heard  from  their  fathers.  Numbers  went  up 
tp  the  mountain  of  the  Sun,  or  rather  of  St.  Elena,  in  search  of 
the  cave  mentioned  by  the  soldier ;  and  saw  and  peeped  into 
the  deep  dark  pit,  descending,  no  one  knows  how  far,  into  the 


GOVERNOR  MANGO  AND   TEE  SOLDIER.  187 

mountain,  and  which  remains  there  to  this  day,  the  fabled  en 
trance  to  the  subterranean  abode  of  Boabdil. 

By  degrees,  the  soldier  became  popular  with  the  common 
people.  A  freebooter  of  the  mountains  is  by  no  means  the  op 
probrious  character  in  Spain  that  a  robber  is  in  any  other  coun 
try  ;  on  the  contrary,  he  is  a  kind  of  chivalrous  personage  in 
the  eyes  of  the  lower  classes.  There  is  always  a  disposition, 
also,  to  cavil  at  the  conduct  of  those  in  command,  and  many 
began  to  murmur  at  the  high-handed  measures  of  old  Governor 
Manco,  and  to  look  upon  the  prisoner  in  the  light  of  a  martyr. 

The  soldier,  moreover,  was  a  merry,  waggish  fellow,  that 
had  a  joke  for  every  one  who  came  near  his  window,  and  a 
soft  speech  for  every  female.  He  had  procured  an  old  gui 
tar  also,  and  would  sit  by  his  window  and  sing  ballads  and 
love-ditties  to  the  delight  of  the  women  of  the  neighbour 
hood,  who  would  assemble  on  the  esplanade  in  the  evenings, 
and  dance  boleros  to  his  music.  Having  trimmed  off  his 
rough  beard,  his  sunburnt  face  found  favour  in  the  eyes  of 
the  fair,  and  the  demure  handmaid  of  the  governor  declared 
that  his  squint  was  perfectly  irresistible.  This  kind-hearted 
damsel  had,  from  the  first,  evinced  a  deep  sympathy  in  his 
fortunes,  and  having  in  vain  tried  to  mollify  the  governor, 
had  set  to  work  privately  to  mitigate  the  rigour  of  his  dis 
pensations.  Every  day  she  brought  the  prisoner  some  crumbs 
of  comfort  which  had  fallen  from  the  governor's  table,  or 
been  abstracted  from  his  larder,  together  with,  now  and  then, 
a  consoling  bottle  of  choice  Val  de  Penas,  or  rich  Malaga. 

While  this  petty  treason  was  going  on  in  the  very  centre  of 
the  old  governor's  citadel,  a  storm  of  open  war  was  brewing  up 
among  his  external  foes.  The  circumstance  of  a  bag  of  gold 
and  jewels  having  been  found  upon  the  person  of  the  supposed 
robber,  had  been  reported  with  many  exaggerations  in  Gra 
nada.  A  question  of  territorial  jurisdiction  was  immediately 
started  by  the  governor's  inveterate  rival,  the  captain-general. 
He  insisted  that  the  prisoner  had  been  captured  without  the  pre 
cincts  of  the  Alhambra,  and  within  the  rules  of  his  authority. 
He  demanded  his  body,  therefore,  and  the  spolia  opima  taken 
with  him.  Due  information  having  been  carried  likewise  by 
the  friar  to  the  grand  Inquisitor,  of  the  crosses,  and  the  rosa 
ries,  and  other  reliques  contained  in  the  bag,  he  claimed  the  cul 
prit,  as  having  been  guilty  of  sacrilege,  and  insisted  that  his 
plunder  was  due  to  the  church,  and  his  body  to  the  next  Auto 
da  Fe.  The  feuds  ran  high;  the  governor  was  furious,  an<l 


188  THE  ALIIAMBRA. 

swore,  rather  than  surrender  his  captive,  he  would  hang  him 
up  within  the  Alhambra,  as  a  spy  caught  within  the  purlieus 
of  the  fortress. 

The  captain-general  threatened  to  send  a  body  of  soldiers  to 
transfer  the  prisoner  from  the  Vermilion  towers  to  the  city. 
The  grand  Inquisitor  was  equally  bent  upon  despatching  a 
number  of  the  familiars  of  the  holy  office.  Word  was  brought 
late  at  night  to  the  governor,  of  these  machinations.  "Let 
them  come,"  said  he,  "they'll  find  me  beforehand  with  them. 
He  must  rise  bright  and  early  who  would  take  in  an  old  sol 
dier."  He  accordingly  issued  orders  to  have  the  prisoner  re 
moved  at  daybreak  to  the  Donjon  Keep  within  the  walls  of  the 
Alhambra:  "And  d'ye  hear,  child,"  said  he  to  his  demure 
handmaid,  ' '  tap  at  my  door,  and  wake  me  before  cock-crow 
ing,  that  I  may  see  to  the  matter  myself." 

The  day  dawned,  the  cock  crowed,  but  nobody  tapped  at  the 
door  of  the  governor.  The  sun  rose  high  above  the  mountain- 
tops,  and  glittered  in  at  his  casement  ere  the  governor  was 
awakened  from  his  morning  dreams  by  his  veteran  corporal, 
who  stood  before  him  with  terror  stamped  upon  his  iron 
visage. 

"He's  off!  he's  gone!"  cried  the  corporal,  gasping  for  breath. 

"Who's  om-who's  gone?" 

' '  The  soldier — the  robber — the  devil,  for  aught  I  know.  His 
dungeon  is  empty,  but  the  door  locked.  No  one  knows  how 
he  has  escaped  out  of  it. " 

"Who  saw  him  last?" 

"Your  handmaid, — she  brought  him  his  supper." 

"Let  her  be  called  instantly." 

Here  was  new  matter  of  confusion.  The  chamber  of  the 
demure  damsel  was  likewise  empty;  her  bed  had  not  been 
slept  in ;  she  had  doubtless  gone  off  with  the  culprit,  as  she 
had  appeared,  for  some  days  past,  to  have  frequent  conversa 
tions  with  him. 

This  was  wounding  the  old  governor  in.  a  tender  part,  but  he 
had  scarce  time  to  wince  at  it,  when  new  misfortunes  broke 
upon  his  view.  On  going  into  his  cabinet,  he  found  his  strong 
box  open,  the  leathern  purse  of  the  trooper  extracted,  and  with 
it  a  couple  of  corpulent  bags  of  doubloons. 

But  how,  and  which  way  had  the  fugitives  escaped?  A 
peasant  who  lived  in  a  cottage  by  the  road-side  leading  up 
into  the  Sierra,  declared  that  he  had  heard  the  tramp  of  a 
powerful  steed,  just  before  daybreak,  passing  up  into  the 


LEGEND   OF  THE  TWO  DISCRKET  STATUES.       189 

mountains.  He  had  looked  out  at  his  casement,  and  could 
just  distinguish  a  horseman,  with  a  female  seated  before  him. 
"Search  the  stables,"  cried  Governor  Manco.  The  stables 
were  searched;  all  the  horses  were  in  their  stalls,  excepting 
the  Arabian  steed.  In  his  place  was  a  stout  cudgel  tied  to 
the  manger,  and  on  it  a  label  bearing  these  words,  "  A  gift  to 
Governor  Manco,  from  an  old  soldier." 


LEGEND   OF  THE  TWO  DISCREET  STATUES. 

THERE  lived  once,  in  a  waste  apartment  of  the  Alhambra,  a 
merry  little  fellow  named  Lope  Sanchez,  who  worked  in  the 
gardens,  and  was  as  brisk  and  blithe  as  a  grasshopper,  singing 
all  day  long.  He  was  the  life  and  soul  of  the  fortress ;  when 
his  work  was  over,  he  would  sit  on  one  of  the  stone  benches  of 
the  esplanade  and  strum  his  guitar,  and  sing  long  ditties  about 
the  Cid,  and  Bernardo  del  Carpio,  and  Fernando  del  Pulgar, 
and  other  Spanish  heroes,  for  the  amusement  of  the  old  sol 
diers  of  the  fortress,  or  would  strike  up  a  merrier  tune,  and  set 
the  girls  dancing  boleros  and  fandangos. 

Like  most  little  men,  Lope  Sanchez  had  a  strapping  buxom 
dame  for  a  wife,  who  could  almost  have  put  him  in  her  pocket ; 
but  he  lacked  the  usual  poor  man's  lot, — instead  of  ten  chil 
dren  he  had  but  one.  This  was  a  little  black-eyed  girl,  about 
twelve  years  of  age,  named  Sanchica,  who  was  as  merry  as 
himself,  and  the  delight  of  his  heart.  She  played  about  him 
as  he  worked  in  the  gardens,  danced  to  his  guitar  as  he  sat  in 
the  shade,  and  ran  as  wild  as  a  young  fawn  about  the  groves, 
and  alleys,  and  ruined  halls  of  the  Alhambra. 

It  was  now  the  eve  of  the  blessed  St.  John,  and  the  holyday- 
loving  gossips  of  the  Alhambra,  men,  women,  and  children, 
went  up  at  night  to  the  mountain  of  the  Sun,  'which  rises 
above  the  Generaliffe,  to  keep  their  midsummer  vigil  on  its 
level  summit.  It  was  a  bright  moonlight  night,  and  all  the 
mountains  were  gray  and  silvery,  and  the  city,  with  its  domes 
and  spires,  lay  in  shadows  below,  and  the  Vega  was  like  a 
fairy  land,  with  haunted  streams  gleaming  among  its  dusky 
groves.  On  the  highest  part  of  the  mountain  they  lit  up  a 
bale  fire,  according  to  an  old  custom  of  the  country  handed 
down  from  the  Moors.  The  inhabitants  of  the  surrounding 


190  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

country  were  keeping  a  similar  vigil,  and  bale  fires  here  and 
there  in  the  Vega,  and  along  the  folds  of  the  mountains,  blazed 
up  palely  in  the  moonlight. 

The  evening  was  gaily  passed  in  dancing  to  the  guitar  of 
Lope  Sanchez,  who  was  never  so  joyous  as  when  on  a  holiday 
revel  of  the  kind.  While  the  dance  was  going  on,  the  little 
Sanchica  with  some  of  her  playmates  sported  among  the  ruins 
of  an  old  Moorish  fort  that  crowns  the  mountain,  when,  in 
gathering  pebbles  in  the  fosse,  she  found  a  small  hand,  curi 
ously  carved  of  jet,  the  fingers  closed,  and  the  thumb  firmly 
clasped  upon  them.  Overjoyed  with  her  good  fortune,  she 
ran  to  her  mother  with  her  prize.  It  immediately  became  a 
subject  of  sage  speculation,  and  was  eyed  by  some  with  super 
stitious  distrust.  "Throw  it  away,"  said  one,  "it  is  Moorish, 
— depend  upon  it  there's  mischief  and  witchcraft  in  it."  "  By 
no  means,"  said  another,  "you  may  sell  it  for  something  to 
the  jewellej  •>€  the  Zacatin."  In  the  midst  of  this  discussion 
an  old  tawny  soldier  drew  near,  who  had  served  in  Africa,  and 
was  as  swarthy  as  a  Moor.  He  examined  the  hand  with  a 
knowing  look.  "I  have  seen  things  of  this  kind,"  said  he, 
"  among  the  Moors  of  Barbary.  It  is  of  great  value  to  guard 
against  the  evil  eye,  and  all  kinds  of  spells  and  enchantments. 
I  give  you  joy,  friend  Lope,  this  bodes  good  luck  to  your 
child." 

Upon  hearing  this,  the  wife  of  Lope  Sanchez  tied  the  little 
hand  of  jet  to  a  riband,  and  hung  it  round  the  neck  of  her 
daughter. 

The  sight  of  this  talisman  called  up  all  the  favourite  super 
stitions  about  the  Moors.  The  dance  was  neglected,  and  they 
sat  in  groups  on  the  ground,  telling  old  legendary  tales  handed 
down  from  their  ancestors.  Some  of  their  stories  turned  upon 
the  wonders  of  the  very  mountain  upon  which  they  were 
seated,  which  is  a  famous  hobgoblin  region. 

One  ancient  crone  gave  a  long  account  of  the  subterranean 
palace  in  the  bowels  of  that  mountain,  where  Boabdil  and  all 
his  Moslem  court  are  said  to  remain  enchanted.  "Among 
yonder  ruins,"  said  she,  pointing  to  some  crumbling  walls  and 
mounds  of  earth  on  a  distant  part  of  the  mountain,  "  there  is 
a  deep  black  pit  that  goes  down,  down  into  the  very  heart  of 
the  mountain.  For  all  the  money  in  Granada,  I  would  not 
look  down  into  it.  Once  upon  a  time,  a  poor  man  of  the  Al- 
hambra,  who  tended  goats  upon  this  mountain,  scrambled 
down  into  that  pit  after  a  kid  that  had  fallen  in.  He  came  out 


LEGEND  OF  THE  TWO  DISCREET  STATUES.       191 

again,  all  wild  and  staring,  and  told  such  things  of  what  he 
had  seen,  that  every  one  thought  his  brain  was  turned.  He 
raved  for  a  day  or  two  about  hobgoblin  Moors  that  had  pur 
sued  him  in  the  cavern,  and  could  hardly  be  persuaded  to 
drive  his  goats  up  again  to  the  mountain.  He  did  so  at  last, 
but,  poor  man,  he  never  came  down  again.  The  neighbours 
found  his  goats  browsing  about  the  Moorish  ruins,  and  his  hax 
and  mantle  lying  near  the  mouth  of  the  pit,  but  he  was  never 
more  heard  of." 

The  little  Sanchica  listened  with  breathless  attention  to  this 
story.  She  was  of  a  curious  nature,  and  felt  immediately  a 
great  hankering  to  peep  into  this  dangerous  pit.  Stealing 
away  from  her  companions,  she  sought  the  distant  ruins,  and 
after  groping  for  some  time  among  them,  came  to  a  small 
hollow  or  basin,  near  the  brow  of  the  mountain,  where  it 
swept  steeply  down  into  the  valley  of  the  Darro.  In  the 
centre  of  this  basin  yawned  the  mouth  of  the  pit.  Sanchica 
ventured  to  the  verge  and  peeped  in.  All  was  black  as  pitch, 
and  gave  an  idea  of  immeasurable  depth.  Her  blood  ran  cold 
— she  drew  back — then  peeped  again — then  would  have  run 
away— then  took  another  peep— the  very  horror  of  the  thing 
was  delightful  to  her.  At  length  she  rolled  a  large  stone,  and 
pushed  it  over  the  brink.  For  some  time  it  fell  in  silence; 
then  struck  some  rocky  projection  with  a  violent  crash,  then 
rebounded  from  side  to  side,  rumbling  and  tumbling,  with  a 
noise  like  thunder,  then  made  a  final  splash  into  water,  far, 
far  below,  and  all  was  again  silent. 

The  silence,  however,  did  not  long  continue.  It  seemed  as 
if  something  had  been  awakened  within  this  dreary  abyss.  A 
murmuring  sound  gradually  rose  out  of  the  pit  like  the  hum 
and  buzz  of  a  bee-hive.  It  grew  louder  and  louder ;  there  was 
the  confusion  of  voices  as  of  a  distant  multitude,  together  with 
the  faint  din  of  arms,  clash  of  cymbals,  and  clangour  of  trum 
pets,  as  if  some  army  were  marshalling  for  battle  in  the  very 
bowels  of  the  mountain. 

The  child  drew  off  with  silent  awe,  and  hastened  back  to 
the  place  where  she  had  left  her  parents  and  their  companions. 
All  were  gone.  The  bale  fire  was  expiring,  and  its  last  wreath 
of  smoke  curling  up  in  the  moonshine.  The  distant  fires  that 
had  blazed  along  the  mountains  and  in  the  Vega  were  all  ex 
tinguished  ;  every  thing  seemed  to  have  sunk  to  repose.  San 
chica  called  her  parents  and  some  of  her  companions  by  name, 
but  received  no  reply.  She  ran  down  the  side  of  the  mountain, 


192  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

and  by  the  gardens  of  the  Generalise,  until  she  arrived  in  the 
alley  of  trees  leading  to  the  Alhambra,  where  she  seated  herself 
on  a  bench  of  a  woody  recess  to  recover  breath.  The  bell  from 
the  watch-tower  of  the  Alhambra  told  midnight.  There  was 
a  deep  tranquillity,  as  if  all  nature  slept ;  excepting  the  low 
tinkling  sound  of  an  unseen  stream  that  ran  under  the  covert 
of  the  bushes.  The  breathing  sweetness  of  the  atmosphere 
was  lulling  her  to  sleep,  when  her  eye  was  caught  by  some 
thing  glittering  at  a  distance,  and  to  her  surprise,  she  beheld  a 
long  cavalcade  of  Moorish  warriors  pouring  down  the  moun 
tain  side,  and  along  the  leafy  avenues.  Some  were  armed 
with  lances  and  shields ;  others  with  scimitars  and  battle-axes, 
and  with  polished  cuirasses  that  flashed  in  the  moon-beams. 
Their  horses  pranced  proudly,  and  champed  upon  the  bit.  but 
their  tramp  caused  no  more  sound  than  if  they  had  been  shod 
with  felt,  and  the  riders  were  aU  as  pale  as  death.  Among 
them  rode  a  beautiful  lady  with  a  crowned  head  and  long 
golden  locks  entwined  with  pearls.  The  housings  of  her 
palfrey  were  of  crimson  velvet  embroidered  with  gold,  and 
swept  the  earth-  but  she  rode  all  disconsolate,  with  eyes  ever 
fixed  upon  the  ground. 

Then  succeeded  a  train  of  courtiers  magnificently  arrayed  in 
robes  and  turbans  of  divers  colours,  and  amidst  these,  on  a 
cream-coloured  charger,  rode  king  Boabdil  el  Chico,  in  a  royal 
mantle  covered  with  jewels,  and  a  crown  sparkling  with 
diamonds.  The  little  Sanchica  knew  him  by  his  yellow  beard, 
and  his  resemblance  to  his  portrait,  which  she  had  often  seen 
in  the  picture  gallery  of  the  Generaliffe.  She  gazed  in  wonder 
and  admiration  at  this  royal  pageant  as  it  passed  glistening 
among  the  trees,  but  though  she  knew  these  monarchs,  and 
courtiers,  and  warriors,  so  pale  and  silent,  were  out  of  the 
common  course  of  nature,  and  things  of  magic  or  enchant 
ment,  yet  she  looked  on  with  a  bold  heart,  such  courage  did 
she  derive  from  the  mystic  talisman  of  the  hand  which  was 
suspended  about  her  neck. 

The  cavalcade  having  passed  by,  she  rose  and  followed.  It 
continued  on  to  the  great  gate  of  Justice,  which  stood  wide 
open;  the  old  invalid  sentinels  on  duty,  lay  on  the  stone 
benches  of  the  Barbican,  buried  in  profound  and  apparently 
charmed  sleep,  and  the  phantom  pageant  swept  noiselessly  by 
them  with  flaunting  banner  and  triumphant  state.  Sanchica 
would  have  followed,  but,  to  her  surprise,  she  beheld  an  open 
ing  in  the  earth  within  the  Barbican,  leading  down  beneath 


LEGEND  OF  THE  TWO  DISCREET  STATUES.       193 

the  foundations  of  the  tower.  She  entered  for  a  little  distance, 
and  was  encouraged  to  proceed  by  finding  steps  rudely  hewn 
in  the  rock,  and  a  vaulted  passage  here  and  there  lit  up  by  a 
silver  lamp,  which,  while  it  gave  light,  diffused  likewise  a 
grateful  fragrance.  Venturing  on,  she  came  at  last  to  a  great 
hail  wrought  out  of  the  heart  of  the  mountain,  magnificently 
furnished  in  the  Moorish  style,  and  lighted  up  by  silver  and 
crystal  lanlps.  Here  on  an  ottoman  sat  an  old  man  in  Moorish 
dress,  with  a  long  white  beard,  nodding  and  dozing,  with  a 
staff  in  his  hand,  which  seemed  ever  to  be  slipping  from  his 
grasp ;  while  at  a  little  distance,  sat  a  beautiful  lady  in  ancient 
Spanish  dress,  with  a  coronet  all  sparkling  with  diamonds, 
and  her  hair  entwined  with  pearls,  who  was  softly  playing  on 
a  silver  lyre.  The  little  Sanchica  now  recollected  a  story  she 
had  heard  among  the  old  people  of  the  Alhambra,  concerning 
a  Gothic  princess  confined  in  the  centre  of  the  mountain  by 
an  old  Arabian  magician,  whom  she  kept  bound  up  in  magic 
sleep  by. the  power  of  music. 

The  lady  paused  with  surprise,  at  seeing  a  mortal  in  that 
enchanted  hall.  "Is  it  the  eve  of  the  blessed  St.  John?"  said 
she. 

"  It  is,"  replied  Sanchica. 

"  Then  for  one  night  the  magic  charm  is  suspended.  Come 
hither,  child,  and  fear  not,  I  am  a  Christian  like  thyself, 
though  bound  here  by  enchantment.  Touch  my  fetters  with 
the  talisman  that  hangs  about  thy  neck,  and  for  this  night  I 
shall  be  free." 

So  saying,  she  opened  her  robes  and  displayed  a  broad 
golden  band  round  her  waist,  and  a  golden  chain  that  fastened 
lier  to  the  ground.  The  child  hesitated  not  to  apply  the  little 
hand  of  jet  to  the  golden  band,  and  immediately  the  chain  feU 
to  the  earth.  At  the  sound  the  old  man  awoke,  and  began  to 
rub  his  eyes,  but  the  lady  ran  her  fingers  over  the  chords  of 
the  lyre,  and  again  he  fell  into  a  slumber  and  began  to  nod,  and 
his  staff  to  falter  in  his  hand.  "Now,"  said  the  lady,  "  touch 
his  staff  with  the  talismanic  hand  of  jet."  The  child  did  so,  and 
it  fell  from  his  grasp,  and  he  sank  in  a  deep  sleep  on  the  otto 
man.  The  lady  gently  laid  the  silver  lyre  on  the  ottoman  lean 
ing  it  against  the  head  of  the  sleeping  magician,  then  touching 
the  chords  until  they  vibrated  in  his  ear,  "O  potent  spirit 
of  harmony,"  said  she,  "continue  thus  to  hold  his  senses 
in  thraldom  till  the  return  of  day."  "Now  follow  me,  my 
child,"  continued  she,  "and  thou  shalt  behold  the  Alhambra  as 


194  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

it  was  in  the  days  of  its  glory,  for  thou  hast  a  magic  talisman 
that  reveals  all  enchantments."  Sanchica  followed  the  lady  in 
silence.  They  passed  up  through  the  entrance  of  the  cavern 
into  the  Barbican  of  the  gate  of  Justice,  and  thence  to  the 
Plaza  de  las  Algibes,  or  esplanade  within  the  fortress.  This 
was  all  filled  with  Moorish  soldiery,  horse  and  foot,  marshalled 
in  squadrons,  with  banners  displayed.  There  were  royal 
guards  also  at  the  portal,  and  rows  of  African  blacks  with 
drawn  scimitars.  No  one  spoke  a  word,  and  Sanchica  passed 
on  fearlessly  after  her  conductor.  Her  astonishment  increased 
on  entering  the  royal  palace,  in  which  she  had  been  reared. 
The  broad  moonshine  lit  up  all  the  halls,  and  courts,  and 
gardens,  almost  as  brightly  as  if  it  were  day ;  but  revealed  a 
far  different  scene  from  that  to  which  she  was  accustomed. 
The  walls  of  the  apartments  were  no  longer  stained  and  rent  by 
time.  Instead  of  cobwebs,  they  were  now  hung  with  rich  silks 
of  Damascus,  and  the  gildings  and  arabesque  paintings  were 
restored  to  their  original  brilliancy  and  freshness.  The  halls, 
instead  of  being  naked  and  unfurnished,  were  set  out  with 
divans  and  ottomans  of  the  rarest  stuffs,  embroidered  with 
pearls,  and  studded  with  precious  gems,  and  all  the  fountains 
in  the  courts  and  gardens  were  playing. 

The  kitchens  were  again  in  full  operation ;  cooks  were  busied 
preparing  shadowy  dishes,  and  roasting  and  boiling  the  phan 
toms  of  pullets  and  partridges ;  servants  were  hurrying  to  and 
fro  with  silver  dishes  heaped  up  with  dainties,  and  arranging 
a  delicious  banquet.  The  Court  of  Lions  was  thronged  with 
guards,  and  courtiers,  and  alfaquis,  as  in  the  old  times  of  the 
Moors ;  and  at  the  upper  end  in  the  saloon  of  judgment,  sat 
Boabdil  on  his  throne,  surrounded  by  his  court,  and  swaying  a 
shadowy  sceptre  for  the  night. 

Notwithstanding  all  this  throng  and  seeming  bustle,  not  a 
voice  or  footstep  was  to  be  heard ;  nothing  interrupted  the  mid 
night  silence  but  the  plashing  of  the  fountains.  The  little 
Sanchica  followed  her  conductress  in  mute  amazement  about 
the  palace,  until  they  came  to  a  portal  opening  to  the  vaulted 
passages  beneath  the  great  tower  of  Comares.  On  each  side  of 
the  portal  sat  the  figure  of  a  nymph,  wrought  out  of  alabaster. 
Their  heads  were  turned  aside,  and  their  regards  fixed  upon  the 
same  spot  within  the  vault.  The  enchanted  lady  paused,  and 
beckoned  the  child  to  her.  "  Here,"  said  she,  "is  a  great  se 
cret,  which  I  will  reveal  to  thee  in  reward  for  thy  faith  and 
courage.  These  discreet  statues  watch  over  a  mighty  treasure 


LEGEND   OF  THE  TWO  DISCREET  STATUtfS,       195 

hidden  in  old  times  by  a  Moorish  king.  Tell  thy  father  to 
search  the  spot  on  which  their  eyes  are  fixed,  and  he  will  find 
what  will  make  him  richer  than  any  man  in  Granada.  Thy 
innocent  hands  alone,  however,  gifted  as  thoti  art  also  with  the 
talisman,  can  remove  the  treasure.  Bid  thy  father  use  it 
discreetly,  and  devote  a  part  of  it  to  the  performance  of 
daily  masses  for  my  deliverance  from  this  unholy  enchant 
ment." 

When  the  lady  had  spoken  these  words,  she  led  the  child 
onward  to  the  little  garden  of  Lindaraxa,  which  is  hard  by  the 
vault  of  the  statues.  The  moon  trembled  upon  the  waters  of 
the  solitary  fountain  in  the  centre  of  the  garden,  and  shed  a 
tender  light  upon  the  orange  and  citron  trees.  The  beautiful 
lady  plucked  a  branch  of  myrtle  and  wreathed  it  round  the 
head  of  the  child.  "Let  this  be  a  memento,"  said  she,  "of 
what  I  have  revealed  to  thee,  and  a  testimonial  of  its  truth. 
My  hour  is  come. — I  must  return  to  the  enchanted  hall;  follow 
me  not,  lest  evil  befall  thee ;  farewell,  remember  what  I  have 
said,  and  have  masses  performed  for  my  deliverance."  So  say 
ing,  the  lady  entered  a  dark  passage  leading  beneath  the  tow 
ers  of  Comares,  and  was  no  longer  to  be  seen. 

The  faint  crowing  of  a  cock  was  now  heard  from  the  cottages 
below  the  Alhambra,  in  the  valley  of  the  Darro,  and  a  pale 
streak  of  light  began  to  appear  above  the  eastern  mountains. 
A  slight  wind  arose ;  there  was  a  sound  like  the  rustling  of  dry 
leaves  through  the  courts  and  corridors,  and  door  after  door 
shut  to  with  a  jarring  sound.  Sanchica  returned  to  the  scenes 
she  had  so  lately  beheld  thronged  with  the  shadowy  multitude, 
but  Boabdil  and  his  phantom  court  were  gone. 

The  moon  shone  into  empty  halls  and  galleries,  stripped  of 
their  transient  splendour,  stained  and  dilapidated  by  time,  and 
hung  with  cobwebs;  the  bat  flitted  about  in  the  uncertain 
light,  and  the  frog  croaked  from  the  fish-pond. 

Sanchica  now  made  the  best  of  her  way  to  a  remote  staircase 
that  led  up  to  the  humble  apartment  occupied  by  her  family. 
The  door  as  usual  was  open,  for  Lope  Sanchez  was  too  poor  to 
need  bolt  or  bar :  she  crept  quietly  to  her  pallet,  and,  putting 
the  myrtle  wreath  beneath  her  pillow,  soon  fell  asleep. 

In  the  morning  she  related  all  that  had  befallen  her  to  her 
father.  Lope  Sanchez,  however,  treated  the  whole  as  a  mere 
dream,  and  laughed  at  the  child  for  her  credulity.  He  went 
forth  to  his  customary  labours  in  the  garden,  but  had  not  been 
there  long  when  his  little  daughter  came  running  to  him  almost 


196  TIIE  ALIIAMBRA. 

breathless.  "Father!  father!"  cried  she,  "behold  the  myrtle 
wreath  which  the  Moorish  lady  bound  round  my  head." 

Lope  Sanchez  gazed  with  astonishment,  for  the  stalk  of  the 
myrtle  was  of  pure  gold,  and  every  leaf  was  a  sparkling  emer 
ald  !  Being  not  much  accustomed  to  precious  stones,  he  was 
ignorant  of  the  real  value  of  the  wreath,  but  he  saw  enough  to 
convince  him  that  it  was  something  more  substantial  than  the 
stuff  that  dreams  are  generally  made  of,  and  that  at  any  rate 
the  child  had  dreamt  to  some  purpose.  His  first  care  was  to 
enjoin  the  most  absolute  secrecy  upon  his  daughter;  in  this 
respect,  however,  he  was  secure,  for  she  had  discretion  far  be 
yond  her  years  or  sex.  He  then  repaired  to  the  vault  where 
stood  the  statues  of  the  two  alabaster  nymphs.  He  remarked 
that  their  heads  were  turned  from  the  portal,  and  that  the  re 
gards  of  each  were  fixed  upon  the  same  point  in  the  interior  of 
the  building.  Lope  Sanchez  could  not  but  admire  this  most 
discreet  contrivance  for  guarding  a  secret.  He  drew  a  line 
from  the  eyes  of  the  statues  to  the  point  of  regard,  made  a  pri 
vate  mark  on  the  wall,  and  then  retired. 

All  day,  however,  the  mind  of  Lope  Sanchez  was  distracted 
with  a  thousand  cares.  He  could  not  help  hovering  within 
distant  view  of  the  two  statues,  and  became  nervous  from  the 
dread  that  the  golden  secret  might  be  discovered.  Every  foot 
step  that  approached  the  place,  made  him  tremble.  He  would 
have  given  any  thing  could  he  but  turn  the  heads  of  the  statues, 
forgetting  that  they  had  looked  precisely  in  the  same  direction 
for  some  hundreds  of  years,  without  any  person  being  the 
wiser.  "A  plague  upon  them,"  he  would  say  to  himself, 
"they'll  betray  all.  Did  ever  mortal  hear  of  such  a  mode 
of  guarding  a  secret !"  Then,  on  hearing  any  one  advance,  he 
would  steal  off,  as  though  his  very  lurking  near  the  pla--e 
would  awaken  suspicions.  Then  he  would  return  cautiously, 
and  peep  from  a  distance  to  see  if  every  thing  was  secure,  but 
the  sight  of  the  statues  would  again  call  forth  his  indigna 
tion.  "Aye,  there  they  stand,"  would  he  say,  "always  look 
ing,  and  looking,  and  looking,  just  where  they  should  not. 
Confound  them !  they  are  just  like  all  their  sex ;  if  they  have 
not  tongues  to  tattle  with,  they'll  be  sure  to  do  it  with  their 
eyes !" 

At  length,  to  his  relief,  the  long  anxious  day  drew  to  a  close. 
The  sound  of  footsteps  was  no  longer  heard  in  the  echoing 
halls  of  the  Alhambra ;  the  last  stranger  passed  the  threshold, 
the  great  portal  was  barred  and  bolted,  and  the  bat,  and  thQ 


LEGEND  OF  THE  TWO  DISCREET  STATUES.       197 

frog,  and  the  hooting  owl  gradually  resumed  their  nightly 
vocations  in  the  deserted  palace. 

Lope  Sanchez  waited,  however,  until  the  night  was  far  ad 
vanced,  before  he  ventured  with  his  little  daughter  to  the  hall- 
of  the  two  nymphs.  He  found  them  looking  as  knowingly  and 
mysteriously  as  ever,  at  the  secret  place  of  deposit.  "By  your 
leaves,  gentle  ladies,"  thought  Lope  Sanchez  as  he  passed  be 
tween  them,  "I  will  relieve  you  from  this  charge  that  must 
have  set  so  heavy  in  your  minds  for  the  last  two  or  three  cen 
turies."  He  accordingly  went  to  work  at  the  part  of  the  wall 
which  he  had  marked,  and  in  a  little  while  laid  open  a  con 
cealed  recess,  in  which  stood  two  great  jars  of  porcelain.  He 
attempted  to  draw  them  forth,  but  they  were  immovable  until 
touched  by  the  innocent  hand  of  his  little  daughter.  With  her 
aid  he  dislodged  them  from  their  niche,  and  found  to  his  great 
joy,  that  they  were  filled  with  pieces  of  Moorish  gold,  mingled 
with  jewels  and  precious  stones.  Before  daylight  he  managed 
to  convey  them  to  his  chamber,  and  left  the  two  guardian 
statues  with  their  eyes  still  fixed  on  the  vacant  waU. 

Lope  Sanchez  had  thus  on  a  sudden  become  a  rich  man,  but 
riches,  as  usual,  brought  a  world  of  cares,  to  which  he  had 
hitherto  been  a  stranger.  How  was  he  to  convey  away  his 
wealth  with  safety?  How  was  he  even  to  enter  upon  the  en 
joyment  of  it  without  awakening  suspicion?  Now  too,  for  the 
first  time  in  his  life,  the  dread  of  robbers  entered  into  his  mind. 
He  looked  with  terror  at  the  insecurity  of  his  habitation, 
and  went  to  work  to  barricade  the  doors  and  windows;  yet 
after  all  his  precautions,  he  could  not  sleep  soundly.  His 
usual  gaiety  was  at  an  end ;  he  had  no  longer  a  joke  or  a  song 
for  his  neighbours,  and,  in  short,  became  the  most  miserable 
animal  in  the  Alhambra.  His  old  comrades  remarked  this 
alteration;  pitied  him  heartily,  and  began  to  desert  him, 
thinking  he  must  be  falling  into  want,  and  in  danger  of  look 
ing  to  them  for  assistance ;  little  did  they  suspect  that  his  only 
calamity  was  riches. 

The  wife  of  Lope  Sanchez  shared  his  anxiety ;  but  then  she 
had  ghostly  comfort.  "We  ought  before  this  to  have  men 
tioned,  that  Lope  being  rather  a  light,  inconsiderate  little  man, 
his  wife  was  accustomed,  in  all  grave  matters,  to  seek  the 
counsel  and  ministry  of  her  confessor,  Fray  Simon,  a  sturdy, 
broad-shouldered,  blue-bearded,  bullet-headed  friar  of  the 
neighbouring  convent  of  San  Francisco,  who  was,  in  fact,  the 
spiritual  comforter  of  half  the  good  wives  of  the  neighbour- 


198  THE  ALIIAMBKA. 

hood.  He  was,  moreover,  in  great  esteem  among  divers 
sisterhoods  of  nuns,  who  requited  him  for  his  ghostly  services 
by  frequent  presents  of  those  little  dainties  and  nicknacks 
manufactured  in  convents,  such  as  delicate  confections,  sweet 
biscuits,  and  bottles  of  spiced  cordials,  found  to  be  marvellous 
restoratives  after  fasts  and  vigils. 

Fray  Simon  thrived  in  the  exercise  of  his  functions.  His 
oily  skin  glistened  in  the  sunshine  as  he  toiled  up  the  hill  of  the 
Alhambra  on  a  sultry  day.  Yet  notwithstanding  his  sleek 
condition,  the  knotted  rope  round  his  waist  showed  the  au 
sterity  of  his  self -discipline;  the  multitude  doffed  their  caps  to 
him  as  a  mirror  of  piety,  and  even  the  dogs  scented  the  odour 
of  sanctity  that  exhaled  from  his  garments,  and  howled  from 
their  kennels  as  he  passed. 

Such  was  Fray  Simon,  the  spiritual  counsellor  of  the  comely 
wife  of  Lope  Sanchez,  and  as  the  father -confessor  is  the 
domestic  confidant  of  women  in  humble  life  in  Spain,  he  was 
soon  made  acquainted,  in  great  secrecy,  with  the  story  of  the 
hidden  treasure. 

The  friar  opened  eyes  and  mouth,  and  crossed  himself  a 
dozen  times  at  the  news.  After  a  moment's  pause,  "  Daughter 
of  my  soul  I"  said  he,  "  know  that  thy  husband  has  committed 
a  double  sin,  a  sin  against  both  state  and  church !  The  trea 
sure  he  has  thus  seized  upon  for  himself,  being  found  in  the 
royal  domains,  belongs  of  course  to  the  crown ;  but  being  in 
fidel  wealth,  rescued,  as  it  were,  from  the  very  fangs  of  Satan, 
should  be  devoted  to  the  church.  Still,  however,  the  matter 
may  be  accommodated.  Bring  hither  the  myrtle  wreath." 

When  the  good  father  beheld  it,  his  eyes  twinkled  more  than 
ever,  with  admiration  of  the  size  and  beauty  of  the  emeralds. 
"This,"  said  he,  "being  the  first  fruits  of  this  discovery, 
should  be  dedicated  to  pious  purposes.  I  will  hang  it  up  as 
a  votive  offering  before  the  image  of  San  Francisco  in  our 
chapel,  and  will  earnestly  pray  to  him,  this  very  night,  that 
your  husband  be  permitted  to  remain  in  quiet  possession  of 
your  wealth." 

The  good  dame  was  delighted  to  make  her  peace  with 
heaven  at  so  cheap  a  rate,  and  the  friar,  putting  the  wreath 
under  his  mantle,  departed  with  saintly  steps  towards  his  con 
vent. 

When  Lope  Sanchez  came  home,  his  wife  told  him  what  had 
passed.  He  was  excessively  provoked,  for  he  lacked  his  wife's 
devotion,  and  had  for  some  time  groaned  in  secret  at  the 


LEGEND   OF  THE  TWO  DISCREET  STATUES.       190 

domestic  visitations  of  the  friar.  "Woman,"  said  he,  "what 
hast  thou  done!  Thou  hast  put  every  thing  at  hazard  bv  thv 
tattling." 

"What!"  cried  the  good  woman,  "would  you  forbid  my 
disburdening  my  conscience  to  my  confessor?" 

"  No,  wife!  confess  as  many  of  your  own  sins  as  you  please; 
but  as  to  this  money-digging,  it  is  a  sin  of  my  own,  and  my 
conscience  is  very  easy  under  the  weight  of  it." 

There  was  no  use,  however,  in  complaining;  the  secret  was 
told,  and,  like  water  spilled  on  the  sand,  was  not  again  to  be 
gathered.  Their  only  chance  was,  that  the  friar  would  be  dis 
creet. 

The  next  day,  while  Lope  Sanchez  was  abroad,  there  was  an 
humble  knocking  at  the  door,  and  Fray  Simon  entered  with 
meek  and  demure  countenance. 

"Daughter,"  said  he,  "I  have  prayed  earnestly  to  San 
Francisco,  and  he  has  heard  my  prayer.  In  the  dead  of  the 
night  the  saint  appeared  to  me  in  a  dream,  but  with  a  frowning 
aspect.  "Why,"  said  he,  "dost  thou  pray  to  me  to  dispense 
with  this  treasure  of  the  Gentiles,  when  thou  seest  the  pov 
erty  of  my  chapel?  Go  to  the  house  of  Lope  Sanchez,  crave 
in  my  name  a  portion  of  the  Moorish  gold  to  furnish  two 
candlesticks  for  the  main  altar,  and  let  him  possess  the  residue 


in  peace.' " 


When  the  good  woman  heard  of  tin's  vision,  she  crossed  her 
self  with  awe,  and  going  to  the  secret  place  where  Lope  had 
hid  the  treasure,  she  filled  a  great  leathern  purse  with  pieces 
of  Moorish  gold,  and  gave  it  to  the  friar.  The  pious  monk  be 
stowed  upon  her  in  return,  benedictions  enough,  if  paid  by 
heaven,  to  enrich  her  race  to  the  latest  posterity;  then  slip 
ping  the  purse  into  the  sleeve  of  his  habit,  he  folded  his  hands 
upon  his  breast,  and  departed  with  an  air  of  humble  thankful 
ness. 

When  Lope  Sanchez  heard  of  this  second  donation  to  tl*> 
church,  he  had  well  nigh  lost  his  senses.  "  Unfortunate  man.'" 
cried  he,  "what  will  become  of  me?  I  shall  be  robbed  by 
piecemeal ;  I  shall  be  ruined  and  brought  to  beggary !" 

It  was  with  the  utmost  difficulty  that  his  wife  could  pacify 
him  by  reminding  him  of  the  countless  wealth  that  yet  re 
mained;  and  how  considerate  it  was  for  San  Francisco  to  rest 
contented  with  so  very  small  a  portion. 

Unluckily,  Fray  Simon  had  a  number  of  poor  relations  to  be 
provided  for,  not  to  mention  some  half  dozen  sturdy,  bullet- 


200  THE  ALttAMBRA. 

headed  orphan  children  and  destitute  foundlings,  that  he  had 
taken  under  his  care.  He  repeated  his  visits,  therefore,  from 
day  to  day,  with  salutations  on  behalf  of  Saint  Dominick,  Saint 
Andrew,  Saint  James,  until  poor  Lope  was  driven  to  despair, 
and  found  that,  unless  he  got  out  of  the  reach  of  this  holy  friar, 
he  should  have  to  make  peace  offerings  to  every  saint  in  the 
kalendar.  He  determined,  therefore,  to  pack  up  his  remaining 
wealth,  beat  a  secret  retreat  in  the  night,  and  make  off  to 
another  part  of  the  kingdom. 

Full  of  his  project,  he  bought  a  stout  mule  for  the  purpose, 
and  tethered  it  in  a  gloomy  vault,  underneath  the  tower  of  the 
Seven  Floors.  The  very  place  from  whence  the  Bellado,  or 
goblin  horse  without  a  head,  is  said  to  issue  forth  at  midnight 
and  to  scour  the  streets  of  Granada,  pursued  by  a  pack  of  hell 
hounds.  Lope  Sanchez  had  little  faith  in  the  story,  but  availed 
himself  of  the  dread  occasioned  by  it,  knowing  that  no  one 
would  be  likely  to  pry  into  the  subterranean  stable  of  the  phan 
tom  steed.  He  sent  off  his  family  in  the  course  of  the  day,  with 
orders  to  wait  for  him  at  a  distant  village  of  the  Vega.  As  the 
night  advanced,  he  conveyed  his  treasure  to  the  vault  under 
the  tower,  and  having  loaded  his  mule,  he  led  it  forth,  and 
cautiously  descended  the  dusky  avenue. 

Honest  Lope  had  taken  his  measures  with  the  utmost  secrecy, 
imparting  them  to  no  one  but  the  faithful  wife  of  his  bosom. 
By  some  miraculous  revelation,  however,  they  became  known 
to  Fray  Simon ;  the  zealous  friar  beheld  these  infidel  treasures 
on  the  point  of  slipping  for  ever  out  of  his  grasp,  and  deter 
mined  to  have  one  more  dash  at  them  for  the  benefit  of  the 
church  and  San  Francisco.  Accordingly,  when  the  bells  had 
rung  for  animas,  and  all  the  Alhambra  was  quiet,  he  stole  out 
of  his  convent,  and,  descending  through  the  gate  of  Justice, 
concealed  himself  among  the  thickets  of  roses  and  laurels  that 
border  the  great  avenue.  Here  he  remained,  counting  the 
quarters  of  hours  as  they  were  sounded  on  the  bell  of  the 
watch-tower,  and  listening  to  the  dreary  hootings  of  owls,  and 
the  distant  barking  of  dogs  from  the  gipsy  caverns. 

At  length,  he  heard  the  tramp  of  hoofs,  and,  through  the 
gloom  of  the  overshadowing  trees,  imperfectly  beheld  a  steed 
descending  the  avenue.  The  sturdy  friar  chuckled  at  the  idea 
of  the  knowing  turn  he  was  about  to  serve  honest  Lope.  Tuck 
ing  up  the  skirts  of  his  habit,  and  wriggling  like  a  cat  watching 
a  mouso,  he  waited  until  his  prey  was  directly  before  him, 
when  darting  forth  from  his  leafy  covert,  and  putting  one  hand 


LEO  END  OF  THE  TWO  plSCREET  STATUES.       201 

on  the  shoulder,  and  the  other  on  the  crupper,  he  made  a  vault 
that  would  not  have  disgraced  the  most  experienced  master  of 
equitation,  and  alighted  well  forked  astride  the  steed.  "Aha !" 
said  the  sturdy  friar,  "we  shall  now  see  who  best  understands 
the  game." 

He  had  scarce  uttered  the  words,  when  the  mule  began  to 
kick  and  rear  and  plunge,  and  then  set  off  at  full  speed  down 
the  hill.  The  friar  attempted  to  check  him,  but  in  vain.  He 
bounded  from  rock  to  rock,  and  bush  to  bush ;  the  friar's  habit 
was  torn  to  ribands,  and  fluttered  in  the  wind ;  his  shaven  poll 
received  many  a  hard  knock  from  the  branches  of  the  trees, 
and  many  a  scratch  from  the 'brambles.  To  add  to  his  terror 
and  distress,  he  found  a  pack  of  seven  hounds  in  full  cry  at  his 
hoels,  and  perceived,  too  late,  that  he  was  actually  mounted 
upon  the  terrible  Bellado ! 

Away  they  went,  according  to  the  ancient  phrase,  "pull 
devil,  pull  friar,"  down  the  great  avenue,  across  the  Plaza 
Nueva,  along  the  Zacatin,  around  the  Vivarambla, — never  did 
huntsman  and  hound  make  a  more  furious  run,  or  more  infer 
nal  uproar. 

In  vain  did  the  friar  invoke  every  saint  in  the  kalendar,  and 
the  holy  virgin  into  the  bargain ;  every  time  he  mentioned  a 
name  of  the  kind,  it  was  like  a  fresh  application  of  the  spur, 
and  made  the  Bellado  bound  as  high  as  a  house.  Through  the 
remainder  of  the  night  was  the  unlucky  Fray  Simon  carried 
hither  and  thither  and  whither  he  would  not,  until  every  bone 
in  his  body  ached,  and  he  suffered  a  loss  of  leather  too  grievous 
to  be  mentioned.  At  length,  the  crowing  of  a  cock  gave  the 
signal  of  returning  day.  At  the  sound,  the  goblin  steed  wheeled 
about,  and  galloped  back  for  his  tower.  Again  he  scoured  the 
Vivarambla,  the  Zacatin,  the  Plaza  Nueva,  and  the  avenue  of 
fountains,  the  seven  dogs  yelling  and  barking,  and  leaping  up, 
and  snapping  at  the  heels  of  the  terrified  friar.  The  first  stream 
of  day  had  just  appeared  as  they  reached  the  tower ;  here  the 
goblin  steed  kicked  up  his  heels,  sent  the  friar  a  somerset 
through  the  air,  plunged  into  the  dark  vault  followed  by  the 
infernal  pack,  and  a  profound  silence  succeeded  to  the  late 
deafening  clamour. 

Was  ever  so  diabolical  a  trick  played  off  upon  holy  friar? 
A  peasant  going  to  his  labours  at  early  dawn,  found  the  unfor 
tunate  Fray  Simon  lying  under  a  fig-tree  at  the  foot  of  the 
tower,  but  so  bruised  and  bedeviled,  that  he  could  neither 
speak  nor  move.  He  was  conveyed  with  all  care  and  tender- 


202  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

ness  bo  his  cell,  and  the  story  went  that  he  had  been  waylaid 
and  maltreated  by  robbers.  A  day  or  two  elapsed  before  he 
recovered  the  use  of  his  limbs :  he  consoled  himself  in  the  mean 
time,  with  the  thoughts  that  though  the  mule  with  the  treasure 
had  escaped  him,  he  had  previously  had  some  rare  pickings  at 
the  infidel  spoils.  His  first  care  on  being  able  to  use  his  limbb, 
was  to  search  beneath  his  pallet,  where  he  had  secreted  the 
myrtle  wreath  and  the  leathern  pouches  of  gold,  extracted  from 
the  piety  of  dame  Sanchez.  What  was  his  dismay  at  finding 
the  wreath,  in  effect,  but  a  withered  branch  of  myrtle,  and  the 
leathern  pouches  filled  with  sand  and  gravel ! 

Fray  Simon,  with  all  his  chagrin,  had  the  discretion  to  hold 
his  tongue,  for  to  betray  the  secret  might  draw  on  him  the 
ridicule  of  the  public,  and  the  punishment  of  his  superior ;  it 
was  not  until  many  years  afterwards,  on  his  death-bed,  that  he 
revealed  to  his  confessor  his  nocturnal  ride  on  the  Bellado. 

Nothing  was  heard  of  Lope  Sanchez  for  a  long  time  after  his 
disappearance  from  the  Alhambra.  His  memory  was  always 
cherished  as  that  of  a  merry  companion,  though  it  was  feared, 
from  the  care  and  melancholy  showed  in  his  conduct  shortly 
before  his  mysterious  departure,  that  poverty  and  distress  had 
driven  him  to  some  extremity.  Some  years  afterwards,  one  of 
his  old  companions,  an  invalid  soldier,  being  at  Malaga,  was 
knocked  down  and  nearly  run  over  by  a  coach  and  six.  The 
carriage  stopped;  an  old  gentleman,  magnificently  dressed, 
with  a  bag- wig  and  sword,  stepped  out  to  assist  the  poor  in 
valid.  What  was  the  astonishment  of  the  latter  to  behold  in 
this  grand  cavalier,  his  old  friend  Lope  Sanchez,  who  was  actu 
ally  celebrating  the  marriage  of  his  daughter  Sanchica,  with 
one  of  the  first  grandees  in  the  land. 

The  carriage  contained  the  bridal  party.  There  was  dame 
Sanchez  now  grown  as  round  as  a  barrel,  and  dressed  out  with 
feathers  and  jewels,  and  necklaces  of  pearls,  and  necklaces  of 
diamonds,  and  rings  on  every  finger,  and  altogether  a  finery  of 
apparel  that  had  not  been  seen  since  the  days  of  Queen  Sheba. 
The  little  Sanchica  had  now  grown  to  be  a  woman,  and  for 
grace  and  beauty  might  have  been  mistaken  for  a  duchess,  if 
not  a  princess  outright.  The  bridegroom  sat  beside  her,  rather 
a  withered,  spindle-shanked  little  man,  but  this  only  proved 
him  to  be  of  the  true  blue  blood,  a  legitimate  Spanish  grandee 
being  rarely  above  three  cubits  in  stature.  The  match  had  been 
of  the  mother's  making.  . 

Biches  had  not  spoiled  the  heart  of  honest  Lope,    He  kept 


MAHAMAD  ABEN  ALAHMAR.         203 

his  old  comrade  with  him  for  several  days;  feasted  him  like 
a  king,  took  him  to  plays  and  bull-fights,  and  at  length  sent 
him  away  rejoicing,  with  a  big  bag  of  money  for  himself,  and 
another  to  be  distributed  among  his  ancient  messmates  of  the 
Alhambra. 

Lope  always  gave  out  that  a  rich  brother  had  died  in 
America,  and  left  him  heir  to  a  copper  mine,  but  the  shrewd 
gossips  of  the  Alhambra  insist  that  his  wealth  was  all  derived 
from  his  having  discovered  the  secret  guarded  by  the  two 
marble  nymphs  of  the  Alhambra.  It  is  remarked,  that  these 
very  discreet  statues  continue  even  unto  the  present  day  with 
their  eyes  fixed  most  significantly  on  the  same  part  of  the 
wall,  which  leads  many  to  suppose  there  is  still  some  hidden 
treasure  remaining  there,  weU  worthy  the  attention  of  the 
enterprising  traveller.  Though  others,  and  particularly  all 
female  visitors,  regard  them  with  great  complacency,  as  last 
ing  monuments  of  the  fact,  that  women  can  keep  a  secret. 


MAHAMAD   ABEN   ALAHMAR: 

THE  FOUNDER  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

HAVING  dealt  so  freely  in  the  marvellous  legends  of  the 
Alhambra,  I  feel  as  if  bound  to  give  the  reader  a  few  facts 
concerning  its  sober  history,  or  rather  the  history  of  those 
magnificent  princes,  its  founder  and  finisher,  to  whom  Eu 
rope  is  indebted  for  so  beautiful  and  romantic  an  oriental 
monument.  To  attain  these  facts,  I  descended  from  this  re 
gion  of  fancy  and  fiction,  where  everything  is  liable  to  take  an 
imaginative  tint,  and  carried  my  researches  among  the  dusty 
tomes  of  the  old  Jesuit's  library  in  the  university.  This  once 
boasted  repository  of  erudition  is  now  a  mere  shadow  of  its 
former  self,  having  been  stripped  of  its  manuscripts  and  rarest 
works  by  the  French,  while  masters  of  Granada.  Still  it  con 
tains,  among  many  ponderous  tomes  of  polemics  of  the  Jesuit 
fathers,  several  curious  tracts  of  Spanish  literature,  and  above 
all,  a  number  of  those  antiquated,  dusty,  parchment-bound 
chronicles,  for  which  I  have  a  peculiar  veneration. 

In  this  old  library  I  have  passed  many  delightful  hours  of 
quiet,  undisturbed,  literary  foraging,  for  the  keys  of  the  doors 


204  THE  ALUAMBRA. 

and  bookcases  were  kindly  entrusted  to  me,  and  I  was  left 
alone  to  rummage  at  my  leisure — a  rare  indulgence  in  those 
sanctuaries  of  learning,  which  too  often  tantalize  the  thirsty 
student  with  the  sight  of  sealed  fountains  of  knowledge. 

In  the  course  of  these  visits  I  gleaned  the  following  particu 
lars  concerning  the  historical  characters  in  question. 

The  Moors  of  Granada  regarded  the  Alhambra  as  a  miracle 
of  art,  and  had  a  tradition  that  the  king  who  founded  it  dealt 
in  magic,  or  at  least  was  deeply  versed  in  alchymy,  by  means 
of  which,  he  procured  the  immense  sums  of  gold  expended  in 
its  erection.  A  brief  view  of  his  reign  will  show  the  real  secret 
of  his  wealth. 

The  name  of  this  monarch,  as  inscribed  on  the  walls  of.  some 
of  the  apartments,  was  Aben  Abd'allah  (i.e.  the  father  of 
Abdallah),  but  he  is  commonly  known  in  Moorish  history  as 
Mahamad  Aben  Alahmar  (or  Mahamad  son  of  Alahmar),  or 
simply  Aben  Alahmar,  for  the  sake  of  brevity. 

He  was  born 'in  Arjona,  in  the  year  of  the  Hegira,  591,  of  the 
Christian  era,  1195,  of  the  noble  family  of  the  Beni  Nasar,  or 
children  of  Nasar,  and  no  expense  was  spared  "by  his  parents 
to  fit  him  for  the  high  station  to  which  the  opulence  and 
dignity  of  his  family  entitled  him.  The  Saracens  of  Spain 
were  greatly  advanced  in  civilization.  Every  principal  city 
was  a  seat  of  learning  and  the  arts,  so  that  it  was  easy  to  com 
mand  the  most  enlightened  instructors  for  a  youth  of  rank 
and  fortune.  Aben  Alahmar,  when  he  arrived  at  manly  years, 
was  appointed  Alcayde  or  governor  of  Arjona  and  Jaen,  and 
gained  great  popularity  by  his  benignity  and  justice.  Some 
years  afterwards,  on  the  death  of  Aben  Hud,  the  Moorish 
power  of  Spain  was  broken  into  factions,  and  many  places 
declared  for  Mahamad  Aben  Alahmar.  Being  of  a  sanguine 
spirit  and  lofty  ambition,  he  seized  upon  the  occasion,  made  a 
circuit  through  the  country,  and  was  every  where  received 
with  acclamation.  It  was  in  the  year  1238  that  he  entered 
Granada  amidst  the  enthusiastic  shouts  of  the  multitude.  He 
was  proclaimed  king  with  every  demonstration  of  joy,  and 
soon  became  the  head  of  the  Moslems  in  Spain,  being  the  first 
of  the  illustrious  line  of  Beni  Nasar  that  had  sat  upon  the 
throne. 

His  reign  was  such  as  to  render  him  a  blessing  to  his  sub 
jects.  He  gave  the  command  of  his  various  cities  to  such  as 
had  distinguished  themselves  by  valour  and  prudence,  and 
who  seemed  most  acceptable  to  the  people.  He  organized  a 


MAHAMAD  ABEN  ALAEMAR.  ,    205 

vigilant  police,  and  established  rigid  rules  for  the  administra 
tion  of  justice.  The  poor  and  the  distressed  always  found 
ready  admission  to  his  presence,  and  he  attended  personally 
to  their  assistance  and  redress.  He  erected  hospitals  for  the 
blind,  the  aged,  and  infirm,  and  all  those  incapable  of  labour, 
and  visited  them  frequently,  not  on  set  days,  with  pomp  and 
form,  so  as  to  give  time  for  every  thing  to  be  put  in  order  and 
every  abuse  concealed,  but  suddenly  and  unexpectedly,  in 
forming  himself  by  actual  observation  and  close  inquiry  of  the 
treatment  of  the  sick,  and  the  conduct  of  those  appointed  to 
administer  to  their  relief. 

He  founded  schools  and  coUeges,  which  he  visited  in  the 
same  manner,  inspecting  personally  the  instruction  of  the 
youth.  He  established  butcheries  and  public  ovens,  that  the 
people  might  be  furnished  with  wholesome  provisions  at  just 
and  regular  prices.  He  introduced  abundant  streams  of  water 
into  the  city,  erecting  baths  and  fountains,  and  constructing 
aqueducts  and  canals  to  irrigate  and  fertilize  the  Vega.  By 
these  means,  prosperity  and  abundance  prevailed  in  this  beau 
tiful  city,  its  gates  were  thronged  with  commerce,  and  its 
warehouses  filled  with  the  luxuries  and  merchandize  of  every 
clime  and  country. 

While  Mahamad  Aben  Alahmar  was  ruling  his  fair  domains 
thus  wisely  and  prosperously,  he  was  suddenly  menaced  by 
the  horrors  of  war.  The  Christians  at  that  time,  profiting 
by  the  dismemberment  of  the  Moslem  power,  were  rapidly 
regaining  their  ancient  territories.  James  the  Conqueror  had 
subjected  all  Valentia,  and  Ferdinand  the  Saint  was  carrying 
his  victorious  armies  into  Andalusia.  The  latter  invested  the 
city  of  Jaen,  and  swore  not  to  raise  his  camp  until  he  had 
gained  possession  of  the  place.  Mahamad  Aben  Alahmar  was 
conscious  of  the  insufficiency  of  his  means  to  carry  on  a  war 
with  the  potent  sovereign  of  Castile.  Taking  a  sudden  resolu 
tion,  therefore,  he  repaired  privately  to  the  Christian  camp, 
and  made  his  unexpected  appearance  in  the  presence  of  king 
Ferdinand.  "In  me,"  said  he,  "you  behold  Mahamad,  king 
of  Granada.  I  confide  in  your  good  faith,  and  put  myself 
under  your  protection.  Take  aU  I  possess,  and  receive  me  as 
your  vassal."  So  saying,  he  knelt  and  kissed  the  king's  hand 
in  token  of  submission. 

King  Ferdinand  was  touched  by  this  instance  of  confiding 
faith,  and  determined  not  to  be  outdone  in  generosity.  He 
raised  his  late  rival  from  the  earth  and  embraced  him  as  a, 


206  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

friend,  nor  would  he  accept  the  wealth  he  offered,  but  received 
him  as  a  vassal,  leaving  him  sovereign  of  his  dominions,  on 
condition  of  paying  a  yearly  tribute,  attending  the  cortes  as 
one  of  the  nobles  of  the  empire,  and  serving  him  in  war  with 
a  certain  number  of  horsemen. 

It  was  not  long  after  this  that  Mahamad  was  called  upon  for 
his  military  services,  to  aid  king  Ferdinand  in  his  famous  siege 
of  Seville.  The  Moorish  king  sallied  forth  with  five  hundred 
chosen  horsemen  of  Granada,  than  whom  none  in  the  world 
knew  better  how  to  manage  the  steed  or  wield  the  lance.  Tt 
was  a  melancholy  and  humiliating  service,  however,  for  they 
had  to  draw  the  sword  against  their  brethren  of  the  faith. 
Mahamad  gained  a  melancholy  distinction  by  his  prowess  in  this 
renowned  conquest,  but  more  true  honour  by  the  humanity 
which  he  prevailed  upon  Ferdinand  to  introduce  into  the  usages 
of  war.  When  in  1248,  the  famous  city  of.  Seville  surrendered  to 
the  Castilian  monarch,  Mahamad  returned  sad  and  full  of  care 
to  his  dominions.  He  saw  the  gathering  ills  that  menaced  the 
Moslem  cause,  and  uttered  an  ejaculation  often  used  by  him 
in  moments  of  anxiety  and  trouble:  "How  straitened  and 
wretched  would  be  our  life,  if  our  hope  were  not  so  spacious 
and  extensive."  * 

When  the  melancholy  conqueror  approached  his  beloved 
Granada,  the  people  thronged  forth  to  see  him  with  impatient 
joy,  for  they  loved  him  as  a  benefactor.  They  had  erected 
arches  of  triumph  in  honour  of  his  martial  exploits,  and  wher 
ever  he  passed  he  was  hailed  with  acclamations,  as  El  GaHb, 
or  the  conqueror;  Mahamad  shook  his  head  when  he  heard  the 
appellation,  " Wa  le  Galib  He  Aid,"  exclaimed  he:  (there  is  no 
conqueror  but  God !)  From  that  time  forward,  he  adopted  this 
exclamation  as  a  motto.  He  inscribed  it  on  an  oblique  band 
across  his  escutcheon,  and  it  continued  to  be  the  motto  of  his 
descendants. 

Mahamad  had  purchased  peace  by  submission  to  the  Chris 
tian  yoke,  but  he  knew  that  where  the  elements  were  so  dis 
cordant,  and  the  motives  for  hostility  so  deep  and  ancient,  it 
could  not  be  secure  or  permanent.  Acting  therefore  upon  an 
old  maxim,  "  arm  thyself  in  peace;  and  clothe  thyself  in  sum 
mer,  "  he  improved  the  present  interval  of  tranquillity  by  for 
tifying  his  dominions  and  replenishing  his  arsenals,  and  by 


*  "  Que  angoste  y  miserabile  seria  nuestra  vida,  sino  fuera  tan  dilatada  y  espaciosa 
Buestra  esperanza!" 


MARA  M AD  ABEN  ALA  TIM AR.  207 

promoting  those  useful  arts  which  give  wealth  and  real  power 
to  an  empire.  He  gave  premiums  and  privileges  to  the  best 
artisans;  improved  the  breed  of  horses  and  other  domestic 
animals;  encouraged  husbandry;  and  increased  the  natural 
fertility  of  the  soil  twofold  by  his  protection,  making  the  lonely 
valleys  of  his  kingdom  to  bloom  like  gardens.  He  fostered  also 
the  growth  and  fabrication  of  silk,  until  the  looms  of  Granada 
suroassed  even  those  of  Syria  in  the  fineness  and  beauty  of 
their  productions.  He,  moreover,  caused  the  mines  of  gold 
and  silver,  and  other  metals  found  in  the  mountainous  regions 
of  his  dominions,  to  be  diligently  worked,  and  was  the  first 
king  of  Granada  who  struck  money  of  gold  and  silver  with  his 
name,  taking  great  care  that  the  coins  should  be  skillfully  exe 
cuted. 

It  was  about  this  time,  towards  the  middle  of  the  thirteenth 
century,  and  just  after  his  return  from  the  siege  of  Seville, 
that  he  commenced  the  splendid  palace  of  the  Alhambra: 
superintending  the  building  of  it  in  person,  mingling  f  requently 
among  the  artists  and  workmen,  and  directing  their  labours. 

Though  thus  magnificent  in  his  works,  and  great  in  his  enter 
prises,  he  was  simple  in  his  person,  and  moderate  in  his  enjoy 
ments.  His  dress  was  not  merely  void  of  splendour,  but  so 
plain  as  not  to  distinguish  him  from  his  subjects.  His  harem 
boasted  but  few  beauties,  and  these  he  visited  but  seldom, 
though  they  were  entertained  with  great  magnificence.  His 
wives  were  daughters  of  the  principal  nobles,  and  were  treated 
by  him  as  friends  and  rational  companions ;  what  is  more,  he 
managed  to  make  them  live  as  friends  with  one  Another. 

He  passed  much  of  his  time  in  his  gardens ;  especially  in 
those  of  the  Alhambra,  which  he  had  stored  with  the  rarest; 
plants,  and  the  most  beautiful  and  aromatic  flowers.  Here  ho 
delighted  himself  in  reading  histories,  or  in  causing  them  to  be 
read  and  related  to  him ;  and  sometimes,  in  intervals  of  leisure, 
employed  himself  in  the  instruction  of  his  three  sons,  for  whom 
he  had  provided  the  most  learned  and  virtuous  masters. 

As  he  had  frankly  and  voluntarily  offered  himself  a  tributary 
vassal  to  Ferdinand,  so  he  always  remained  loyal  to  his  word, 
giving  him  repeated  proofs  of  fidelity  and  attachment.  When 
that  renowned  monarch  died  in  Seville,  in  1254,  Mahamad  Aben 
Alalimar  sent  ambassadors  to  condole  with  his  successor, 
Alonzo  X. ,  and  with  them  a  gallant  train  of  a  hundred  Moorish 
cavaliers  of  distinguished  rank,  who  were  to  attend,  each  bear 
ing  a  lighted  taper  round  the  royal  bier,  during  the  funeral 


208       •  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

ceremonies.  This  grand  testimonial  of  respect  was  repeated 
by  the  Moslem  monarch  during  the  remainder  of  his  life,  on 
each  anniversary  of  the  death  of  King  Fernando  el  Santo,  when 
the  hundred  Moorish  knights  repaired  from  Granada  to  Seville, 
and  took  their  stations  with  lighted  tapers  in  the  centre  of  the 
sumptuous  cathedral  round  the  cenotaph  of  the  illustrious  de 
ceased. 

Mahamad  Aben  Alahmar  retained  his  faculties  and  vigour 
to  an  advanced  age.  In  his  seventy-ninth  year  he  took  the 
field  on  horseback,  accompanied  by  the  flower  of  his  chivalry, 
to  resist  an  invasion  of  his  territories.  As  the  army  sallied 
forth  from  Granada,  one  of  the  principal  adalides  or  guides, 
who  rode  in  the  advance,  accidentally  broke  his  lance  against 
the  arch  of  the  gate.  The  counsellors  of  the  king,  alarmed  by 
this  circumstance,  which  was  considered  an  evil  omen,  en 
treated  him  to  return.  Their  supplications  were  in  vain.  The 
king  persisted,  and  at  noon-tide  the  omen,  say  the  Moorish 
chroniclers,  was  fatally  fulfilled.  Mahamad  was  suddenly 
struck  with  illness,  and  had  nearly  fallen  from  his  horse.  He 
was  placed  on  a  litter,  and  borne  back  towards  Granada,  but 
his  illness  increased  to  such  a  degree,  that  they  were  obliged  to 
pitch  his  tent  in  the  Vega.  His  physicians  were  filled  with 
consternation,  not  knowing  what  remedy  to  prescribe.  In  a 
few  hours  he  died  vomiting  blood,  and  in  violent  convulsions. 
The  Castilian  prince,  Don  Philip,  brother  of  Alonzo  X. ,  was  by 
his  side  when  he  expired.  His  body  was  embalmed,  enclosed 
in  a  silver  coffin,  and  buried  in  the  Alhambra,  in  a  sepulchre 
of  precious  marble,  amidst  the  unfeigned  lamentations  of  his 
subjects,  who  bewailed  him  as  a  parent. 

Such  was  the  enlightened  patriot  prince,  who  founded  the 
Alhambra,  whose  name  remains  emblazoned  among  its  most 
delicate  and  graceful  ornaments,  and  whose  memory  is  calcu 
lated  to  inspire  the  loftiest  associations  in  those  who  tread  these 
fading  scenes  of  his  magnificence  and  glory.  Though  his  un~ 
dertakings  were  vast,  and  his  expenditures  immense,  yet  his 
treasury  was  always  full ;  and  this  seeming  contradiction  gave 
rise  to  the  story  that  he  was  versed  in  magic  art  and  possessed 
of  the  secret  for  transmuting  baser  metals  into  gold. 

Those  who  have  attended  to  his  domestic  policy,  as  here  set 
forth,  will  easily  understand  the  natural  magic  and  simple 
alchymy  which  made  his  ample  treasury  to  overflow. 


JUSEF  ABUL  IIAGIAS.  209 


JUSEF  ABUL  HAGIAS: 

THE  FINISHER  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

BENEATH  the  governor's  apartment  in  the  Alhambra  is  the 
royal  Mosque,  where  the  Moorish  monarchs  performed  their 
private  devotions.  Though  consecrated  as  a  Catholic  chapel, 
it  still  bears  traces  of  its  Moslem  origin ;  the  Saracenic  columns 
with  their  gilded  capitals,  and  the  latticed  gallery  for  the 
females  of  the  harem,  may  yet  be  seen,  and  the  escutcheons  of 
the  Moorish  kings  are  mingled  on  the  walls  with  those  of  the 
Castilian  sovereigns. 

In  this  consecrated  place  perished  the  illustrious  Juscf  Abul 
Hagias,  the  high-minded  prince  who  completed  the  Alhambra, 
and  who,  for  his  virtues  and  endowments,  deserves  almost 
equal  renown  with  its  magnanimous  founder.  It  is  with  pleas 
ure  I  draw  forth  from  the  obscurity  in  which  it  has  too  long 
remained,  the  name  of  another  of  those  princes  of  a  departed 
and  almost  forgotten  race,  who  reigned  in  elegance  and  splen 
dour  in  Andalusia,  when  all  Europe  was  in  comparative  bar 
barism. 

Jusef  Abul  Hagias  (or,  as  it  is  sometimes  written,  Haxis) 
ascended  the  throne  of  ^Jranada  in  the  year  1333,  and  his  per 
sonal  appearance  and  mental  qualities  were  such  as  to  win  all 
hearts,  and  to  awaken  anticipations  of  a  beneficent  and  pros 
perous  reign.  He  was  of  a  noble  presence  and  great  bodily 
strength,  united  to  manly  beauty.  His  complexion  was  ex 
ceeding  fair,  and,  according  to  the  Arabian  chroniclers,  he 
heightened  the  gravity  and  majesty  of  his  appearance  by  suf 
fering  his  beard  to  grow  to  a  dignified  length,  and  dyeing  it 
black.  He  had  an  excellent  memory,  well  stored  with  science 
and  erudition;  he  was  of  a  lively  genius,  and  accounted  the 
best  post  of  his  time,  and  his  manners  were  gentle,  affable,  and 
urbane. 

Jusef  possessed  the  courage  common  to  all  generous  spirits, 
but  his  genius  was  more  calculated  for  peace  than  war,  and, 
though  obliged  to  take  up  arms  repeatedly  in  his  time,  he  was 
generally  unfortunate.  He  carried  the  benignity  of  his  nature 
into  warfare,  prohibiting  all  wanton  cruelty,  and,  enjoining 
mercy  and  protection  towards  women  and  children,  tite  aged 


210  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

and  infirm,  and  all  friars  and  persons  of  holy  and  recluse  life. 
Among  other  ill-starred  enterprises,  he  undertook  a  great  cam 
paign  in  conjunction  with  the  king  of  Morocco,  against  the 
kings  of  Castile  and  Portugal,  but  was  defeated  in  the  memor 
able  battle  of  Salado ;  a  disastrous  reverse  which  had  nearly 
proved  a  death  blow  to  the  Moslem  power  in  Spain. 

Juscf  obtained  a  long  truce  after  this  defeat,  during  which 
time  he  devoted  himself  to  the  instruction  of  his  people  and  the 
improvement  of  their  morals  and  manners.  For  this  purpose 
he  established  schools  in  all  the  villages,  with  simple  and  uni 
form  systems  of  education ;  he  obliged  every  hamlet  of  more 
than  twelve  houses  to  have  a  Mosque,  and  prohibited  various 
abuses  and  indecorums,  that  had  been  introduced  into  the  cere 
monies  of  religion,  and  the  festivals  and  public  amusements  of 
the  people.  He  attended  vigilantly  to  the  police  of  the  city, 
establishing  nocturnal  guards  and  patrols,  and  superintending 
all  municipal  concerns. 

His  attention  was  also  directed  towards  finishing  the  great 
architectural  works  commenced  by  his  predecessors,  and  erect 
ing  others  on  his  own  plans.  The  Alhambra,  which  had  been 
founded  by  the  good  Aben  Alahmar,  was  now  completed. 
Jusef  constructed  the  beautiful  gate  of  Justice,  forming  the 
grand  entrance  to  the  fortress,  which  he  finished  in  1348.  He 
likewise  adorned  many  of  the  courts  and  halls  of  the  palace,  as 
maybe  seen  by  the  inscriptions  on  the  walls,  in  which  his  name 
repeatedly  occurs.  He  built  also  the  noble  Alcazar,  or  citadel 
of  Malaga ;  now  unfortunately  a  mere  iftass  of  crumbling  ruins, 
but  which  probably  exhibited  in  its  interior  similar  elegance 
and  magnificence  with  the  Alhambra. 

The  genius  of  a  sovereign  stamps  a  character  upon  his  time. 
The  nobles  of  Granada,  imitating  the  elegant  and  graceful  taste 
of  Jusef,  soon  filled  the  city  of  Granada  with  magnificent  pal 
aces  ;  the  halls  of  which  were  paved  in  Mosaic,  the  walls  and 
ceilings  wrought  in  fret-work,  and  delicately  gilded  and  painted 
with  azure,  vermilion,  and  other  brilliant  colours,  or  minutely 
inlaid  with  cedar  and  other  precious  woods ;  specimens  of  which 
have  survived  in  all  their  lustre  the  lapse  of  several  centuries. 

Many  of  the  houses  had  fountains,  which  threw  up  jets  of 
water  to  refresh  and  cool  the  air.  They  had  lofty  towers  also, 
of  wood  or  stone,  curiously  carved  and  ornamented,  and  cov 
ered  with  plates  of  metal  that  glittered  in  the  sun.  Such  was 
the  refined  and  delicate  taste  in  architecture  that  prevailed 
among  this*  elegant  people ;  insomuch,  that  to  use  the  beautiful 


JUSEF  ABUL  HAOIA8.  211 

simile  of  an  Arabian  writer,  "Granada,  in  the  days  of  Jusef, 
was  as  a  silver  vase  filled  with  emeralds  and  jacinths." 

One  anecdote  will  be  sufficient  to  show  the  magnanimity  of 
this  generous  prince.  The  long  truce  which  had  succeeded  the 
battle  of  Salado  was  at  an  end,  and  every  effort  of  Jusef  to 
renew  it  was  in  vain.  His  deadly  foe,  Alfonso  XI.  of  Castile, 
took  the  field  with  great  force,  and  laid  siege  to  Gibraltar. 
Jusef  reluctantly  took  up  arms,  and  sent  troops  to  the  relief  of 
the  place ;  when,  in  the  midst  of  his  anxiety,  he  received  tidings 
that  his  dreaded  foe  had  suddenly  fallen  a  victim  to  the  plague. 
Instead  of  manifesting  exultation  on  the  occasion,  Jusef  called 
to  mind  the  great  qualities  of  the  deceased,  and  was  touched 
with  a  noble  sorrow.  "Alas!"  cried  he,  "the  world  has  lost 
one  of  its  most  excellent  princes ;  a  sovereign  who  knew  how 
to  honour  merit,  whether  in  friend  or  foe  I" 

The  Spanish  chroniclers  themselves  bear  witness  to  this  mag 
nanimity.  According  to  their  accounts,  the  Moorish  cavaliers 
partook  of  the  sentiment  of  their  king,  and  put  on  mourning 
for  the  death  of  Alfonso.  Even  those  of  Gibraltar,  who  had 
been  so  closely  invested,  when  they  knew  that  the  hostile  mon 
arch  lay  dead  in  his  camp,  determined  among  themselves  that 
no  hostile  movement  should  be  made  against  the  Christians. 

The  day  on  which  the  camp  was  broken  up,  and  the  army 
departed,  bearing  the  corpse  of  Alfonso,  the  Moors  issued  in 
multitudes  from  Gibraltar,  and  stood  mute  and  melancholy, 
watching  the  mournful  pageant.  The  same  reverence  for  the 
deceased  was  observed  by  all  the  Moorish  commanders  on  the 
frontiers,  who  suffered  the  lunerai  train  to  pass  in  safety, 
bearing  the  corpse  of  the  Christian  sovereign  from  Gibraltar  to 
Seville.* 

Jusef  did  not  long  survive  the  enemy  he  had  so  generously 
deplored.  In  the  year  1354,  as  he  was  one  day  praying  in  the 
royal  mosque  of  the  Alhambra,  a  maniac  rushed  suddenly 
from  behind,  and  plunged  a  dagger  in  his  side.  The  cries  of 
the  king  brought  his  guards  and  courtiers  to  his  assistance. 
They  found  him  weltering  in  his  blood,  and  in  convulsions. 
He  was  borne  to  the  royal  apartments,  but  expired  almost  im- 


*  "  Y  los  Moros  que  estaban  en  la  villa  y  Castillo  de  Gibraltar  despues  que  sopieron 
que  el  Key  Don  Alonzo  era  muerto,  ordenaron  entresi  que  ninguno  non  fuesse 
osado  de  fazer  ningun  movimiento  contra  los  Christianos,  nin  mover  pelear  contra 
ellos,  estovieron  todos  quedos  y  dezian  entre  ellos  que  aquel  dia  muriera  un  noble 
fey  y  gran  principe  del  mundo!" 


THE  ALUAMmiA. 

mediately.  The  murderer  was  cut  to  pieces,  and  his  limbs 
burnt  in  public,  to  gratify  the  fury  of  the  populace. 

The  body  of  the  king  was  interred  in  a  superb  sepulchre  of 
white  marble ;  a  long  epitaph  in  letters  of  gold  upon  an  azure 
ground  recorded  his  virtues.  "  Here  lies  a  king  and  martyr  of 
an  illustrious  line,  gentle,  learned  and  virtuous ;  renowned  for 
the  graces  of  his  person  and  his  manners;  whose  clemency, 
piety  and  benevolence  were  extolled  throughout  the  kingdom 
of  Granada.  He  was  a  great  prince,  an  illustrious  captain ;  a 
sharp  sword  of  the  Moslems ;  a  valiant  standard-bearer  among 
the  most  potent  monarchs,"  etc. 

The  mosque  still  remains,  which  once  resounded  with  the 
dying  cries  of  Jusef,  but  the  monument  which  recorded  his 
virtues  has  long  since  disappeared.  His  name,  however,  re 
mains  inscribed  among  the  ornaments  of  the  Alhambra,  and 
will  be  perpetuated  in  connection  with  this  renowned  pile, 
which  it  was  his  pride  and  delight  to  beautify. 


THE  KID. 


THE 


CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA, 


WASHINGTON    IRVING. 


CHICAGO,    NEW  YORK,    AND    SAN   FRANCISCO  s 

BELFORD,    CLARKE   &  CO., 
PUBLISHERS. 


THE   CONQUEST   OF   GRANADA. 


CONTENTS. 


VOLUME  I. 

CHAPTER  PAOE 

Introduction 3 

I.  Of  the  Kingdom  of  Granada,  and  the  Tribute  which  it  paid  to  the 

Castilian  Crown 7 

II.  How  the  Catholic  Sovereigns  sent  t  o  demand  Arrears  of  Tribute  of 

the  Moor,  and  how  the  Moor  replied 10 

III.  How  the  Moor  determined  to  strike  the  First  Blow  in  War 13 

IV.  Expedition  of  Muley  Aben  Hassan,  against  the  Fortress  of  Zahara. . .  15 
V.  Expedition  of  the  Marques  of  Cadiz  against  Alhama 18 

VI.  How  the  People  of  Granada  were  affected  on  hearing  of  the  Capture 

of  Alhama,  and  how  the  Moorish  King  sallied  forth  to  regain  it 25 

VH.  How  the  Duke  of  Medina  Sidonia,  and  the  Chivalry  of  Andalusia, 

hastened  to  the  Relief  of  Alhama '  31 

VHI.  Sequel  of  the  Events  at  Alhama 34 

IX.  Events  at  Granada,  and  Rise  of  the  Moorish  King  Boabdil  el  Chico. . .  38 

X.  Royal  Expedition  against  Loxa  42 

XI.  How  Muley  Aben  Hassan  made  a  Foray  into  the  Lands  of  Medina 

Sidonia,  and  how  he  was  received 48 

XH.  Foray  of  Spanish  Cavaliers  among  the  Mountains  of  Malaga 53 

XIH.  Effects  of  the  Disasters  among  the  Mountains  of  Malaga 63 

XIV.  How  King  Boabdil  el  Chico  marched  over  the  Border 66 

XV.  How  the  Count  de  Cabra  sallied  forth  from  his  Castle  in  quest  of 

King  Boabdil 69 

XVI.  The  Battle  of  Lucena 73 

XVH.  Lamentations  of  the  Moors  for  the  Battle  of  Lucena 78 

XVHI.  How  Muley  Aben  Hassan  profited  by  the  Misfortunes  of  his  Son 

Boabdil 81 

XJX,  Captivity  of  Boabdil  el  Chico..,,,..,,., , ,,,  g? 


2  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  pAGB. 

XX.  Treatment  of  Boabdil  by  the  Castilian  Sovereigns 8^ 

XXI.  Return  of  Boabdil  from  Captivity gg 

XXII.  Foray  of  the  Moorish  Alcaydes,  and  the  Battle  of  Lopera 92 

XXIII.  Retreat  of  Hamet  el  Zegri,  Alcayde  of  Ronda 99 

XXIV.  Of  the  Reception  at  Court  of  the  Count  de  Cabra  and  the  Alcayde  de 

los  Donzeles 102 

XXV.  How  the  Marquis  of  Cadiz  concerted  to  surprise  Zahara  and  the 

Result  of  his  Enterprise 105 

XXVI.  Of  the  Fortress  of  Alhama,  and  how  wisely  it  was  governed  by  the 

Count  de  Tendilla 109 

XXVII.  Foray  of  Christian  Knights  into  the  Territory  of  the  Moors 114 

XXVIII.  Attempt  of  El  Zagal  to  surprise  Boabdil  in  Almeria 118 

XXIX.  How  Ferdinand  commenced  another  Campaign  against  the  Moors, 

and  how  he  laid  Siege  to  Coinann  Cartama '  121 

XXX.  Siege  of  Ronda 125 

XXXI.  How  the  People  of  Granada  invited  El  Zagal  to  the  Throne,  and  how 

he  marched  to  the  Capital 129 

XXXII.  How  the  Count  de  Cabra  attempted  to  capture  another  King,  and  how 

he  fared  in  his  Attempt 133 

XXXIII.  Expedition  against  the  Castles  of  Cambil  and  Albahar 138 

XXXIV.  Enterprise  of  the  Knights  of  Calatrava  against  Zalea 144 

XXXV.  Death  of  Muley  Aben  Hassan 147 

XXXVI.  Of  the  Christian  Army  which  assembled  at  the  City  of  Cordova 150 

XXXVII.  How  fresh  Commotions  broke  out  in  Granada,  and  how  the  People 

undertook  to  allay  them 155 

XXXVIII.  How  King  Ferdinand  held  a  Council  of  War,  at  the  Rock  of  the 

Lovers 157 

XXXIX.  How  the  Royal  Army  appeared  before  the  City  of  Loxa,  and  how  it 

was  received,  and  of  the  doughty  Achievements  of  the  English  Earl  160 

XL.  Conclusion  of  the  Siege  of  Loxa 164 

XLI.  Capture  of  Illora 166 

XLII.  Of  the  Arrival  of  Queen  Isabella  at  the  Camp  before  Moclin,  and  of 

the'pleasant  Sayings  of  the  English  Earl 168 

XLIII.  How  King  Ferdinand  attacked  Moclin,  and  of  the  strange  Events 

that  attended  its  Capture 172 

XLIV.  How  King  Ferdinand  foraged  the  Vega,  and  of  the*  Battle  of  the 

Bridge  of  Pinos,  and  the  Fate  of  the  two  Moorish  Brothers 175 

XLV.  Attempt  of  El  Zagal  upon  the  Life  of  Boabdil,  and  how  the  Latter 

was  roused  to  Action '. 180 


CONTENTS. 


VOLUME  II. 

CHAPTHR  PAGE 

I.  How  Boabdil  returned  secretly  to  Granada,  and  how  he  was  received  183 
II.  How  King  Ferdinand  laid  Siege  to  Velez  Malaga 185 

III.  How  King  Ferdinand  and  his  Army  were  exposed  to  imminent  Peril 

before  the  Velez  Malaga   192 

IV.  Result  of  the  Stratagem  of  El  Zagal  to  surprise  King  Ferdinand 196 

V.  How  the  People  of  Granada  rewarded  the  Valor  of  El  Zagal 199 

VI.  Surrender  of  Velez  Malaga  and  other  Places 201 

VII.  Of  the  City  of  Malaga,  and  its  Inhabitants.    Mission  of  Hernando  del 

Pulgar 204 

VIII.  Advance  of  Kiug  Ferdinand  against  Malaga 208 

IX.  Siege  of  Malaga 211 

X.  Siege  of  Malaga,  continued.    Obstinacy  of  Hamet  el  Zegri 213 

XI.  Attack  of  the  Marquis  of  Cadiz  upon  Gibralfaro 216 

XII.  Siege  of  Malaga,  continued.    Stratagems  of  various  kinds  218 

XIII.  Sufferings  of  the  People  of  Malaga 221 

XIV.  How  a  Moorish  Santon  undertook  to  deliver  the  City  of  Malaga  from 

the  Power  of  its  Enemies  224 

XV.  How  Hamet  el  Zegri  was  hardened  in  his  Obstinacy  by  the  Arts  of  a 

Moorish  Astrologer 227 

XVI.  Siege  of  Malaga,  continued.    Destruction  of  a  Tower,  by  Francisco 

Ramirez  de  Madrid 2SO 

XVII.  How  the  People  of  Malaga  expostulated  with  Hamet  el  Zegri 231 

XVIII.  How  Hamet  el  Zegri  sallied  forth  with  the  Sacred  Banner,  to  attack 

the  Christian  Camp 234 

XIX.  How  the  City  of  Malaga  capitulated 237 

XX.  Fulfillment  of  the  Prophecy  of  the  Dervise.    Fate  of  Hamet  el  Zegri.  241 

XXI.  How  the  Castilian  Sovereigns  took  Possession  of  the  City  of  Malaga, 
and  how  King  Ferdinand  signalized  himself  by  his  Skill  in  bargain 
ing  with  the  Inhabitants  for  their  Ransom 243 

XXII.  How  King  Ferdinand  prepared  to  carry  the  War  into  a  different  Part 

of  the  Territories  of  the  Moors 248 

XXIII.  How  King  Ferdinand  invaded  the  Eastern  Side  of  the  Kingdom  of 

Granada,  and  how  he  was  received  by  El  Zagal 252 

XXIV.  How  the  Moors  made  various  Enterprises  against  the  Christians 255 

XXV.  How  King  Ferdinand  prepared  to  besiege  the  City  of  Baza,  and  how 

the  City  prepared  for  Defence 257 

XXVI.  The  Battle  of  the  Gardens  before  Baza 261 

XXVII.  Siege  of  Baza.    Embarrassments  of  the  Army 265 

XXVm.  Siege  of  Baza,  continued.  "How  King  Ferdinand  completely  invested 

the  City 268 


4  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXIX.  Exploit  of  Hernando  Perez  del  Pulgar,  and  other  Cavaliers. 270 

XXX.  Continuation  of  the  Siege  of  Baza 273 

XXXI.  How  two  Friars  arrived  at  the  Camp,  and  how  they  came  from  the 

Holy  Land 275 

XXXII.  How  Queen  Isabella  devised  Means  to  supply  the  Army  with  provi 
sions 280 

XXXIII.  Of  the  Disasters  which  befell  the  Camp 282 

XXXIV.  Encounters  between  the  Christians  and  Moors  before  Baza,  and  the 

Devotion  of  the  Inhabitants  to  the  Defence  of  their  City 285 

XXXV.  How  Queen  Isabella  arrived  at  the  Camp,  and  the  Consequences  of 

her  Arrival 287 

XXXVI.  Surrender  of  Baza 290 

XXXVII.  Submission  of  El  Zagal  to  the  Castilian  Sovereigns 295 

XXXVIII.  Events  of  Granada,  subsequent  to  the  Submission  of  El  Zagal 298 

XXXIX.  How  King  Ferdinand  turned    his   Hostilities  against  the  City  of 

Granada 302 

XL.  The  Fate  of  the  Castle  of  Roma 306 

XLI.  How  Boabdil  el  Chico  took  the  Field,  and  his  Expedition  against 

Alhendin 309 

XLII.  Exploit  of  the  Count  de  Tendilla 311 

XLIII.  Expedition  of  Boabdil  el  Chico  against  Salobrefia.    Exploit  of  Her 
nando  Perez  del  Pulgar 314 

XLIV.  How  King  Ferdinand  treated  the  People  of  Guadix,  and  how  El 

Zagal  finished  his  Regal  Career 319 

XLV.  Preparations  of  Granada  for  a  Desperate  Defence 322 

XLVI.  How  King  Ferdinand  conducted  the  Siege  cautiously,  and  how  Queen 

Isabella  arrived  at  the  Camp 826 

XLVII.  Of  the  Insolent  Defiance  of  Yarfe  the  Moor,  and  the  Daring  Exploit 

of  Hernando  Perez  del  Pulgar 328 

XLVHI.  How  Queen  Isabella  took  a  View  of  the  City  of  Granada,  and  how 

her  Curiosity  cost  the  Lives  of  many  Christians  and  Moors 329 

XLIX.  Conflagration  of  the  Christian  Camp 335 

L.  The  last  Ravage  before  Granada 337 

LI.  Building  of  the  City  of  Santa  F6.    Despair  of  the  Moors 340 

LH.  Capitulation  of  Granada 343 

LIII.  Commotions  in  Granada 346 

LIV.  Surrender  of  Granada • 349 

LV.  How  the  Castilian  Sovereigns  took  Possession  of  Granada 352 

APPENDIX: 

Fate  of  Boabdil  el  Chico 355 

Death  of  the  Marquis  of  Cadiz 358 

Legend  of  the  Death  of  Don  Alonzo  de  Aguilar . .  861 


INTRODUCTION. 


ALTHOUGH  the  following  Chronicle  bears  the  name  of  the 
venerable  Fray  Antonio  Agapida,  it  is  rather  a  superstructure 
reared  upon  the  fragmants  which  remain  of  his  work.  It  may 
be  asked,  Who  is  this  same  Agapida,  who  is  cited  with  such 
deference,  yet  whose  name  is  not  to  be  found  in  any  of  the 
catalogues  of  Spanish  authors?  The  question  is  hard  to  an 
swer  :  he  appears  to  have  been  one  of  the  many  indefatigable 
authors  of  Spain,  who  have  filled  the  libraries  of  convents  and 
cathedrals  with  their  tomes,  without  ever  dreaming  of  bring 
ing  their  labors  to  the  press.  He  evidently  was  deeply  and 
accurately  informed  of  the  particulars  of  the  wars  between  his 
countrymen  and  the  Moors— a  tract  of  History  but  too  much 
overgrown  with  the  weeds  of  fable.  His  glowing  zeal,  also,  in 
the  cause  of  the  Catholic  faith,  entitles  him  to  be  held  up  as  a 
model  of  the  good  old  orthodox  chroniclers,  who  recorded  with 
such  pious  exultation  the  united  triumphs  of  the  cross  and  the 
sword.  It  is  deeply  to  be  regretted,  therefore,  that  his  manu 
scripts,  deposited  in  the  libraries  of  various  convents,  have 
been  dispersed  during  the  late  convulsions  in  Spain,  so  that 
nothing  is  now  to  be  met  of  them  but  disjointed  fragments. 
These,  however,  are  too  precious  to  be  suffered  to  fall  into 
oblivion,  as  they  contain  many  curious  facts,  not  to  be  found 
in  any  other  historian.  In  the  following  work,  therefore,  the 
manuscript  of  the  worthy  Fray  Antonio  will  be  adopted, 
wherever  it  exists  entire ;  but  will  be  filled  up,  extended,  illus 
trated,  and  corroborated,  by  citations  from  various  authors, 
both  Spanish  and  Arabian,  who  have  treated  of  the  subject. 
Those  who  may  wish  to  know  how  far  the  work  is  indebted  to 
the  chronicle  of  Fray  Antonio  Agapida,  may  readily  satisfy 
their  curiosity  by  referring  to  his  manuscript  fragments,  which 
are  carefully  preserved  in  the  library  of  the  Escurial. 

Before  entering  upon  the  history,  it  may  be  as  well  to  noticQ 


4  INTRODUCTION. 

the  opinions  of  certain  of  the  most  learned  and  devout  histori 
ographers  of  former  times,  relative  to  this  war. 

Marinus  Siculus,  historian  to  Charles  V.,  pronounces  it  a 
war  to  avenge  the  ancient  injuries  received  by  the  Christians 
from  the  Moors,  to  recover  the  kingdom  of  Granada,  and  to 
extend  the  name  and  honor  of  the  Christian  religion.* 

Estevan  de  Garibay,  one  of  the  most  distinguished  among 
the  Spanish  historians,  regards  the  war  as  a  special  act  of 
divine  clemency  towards  the  Moors;  to  the  end  that  those 
barbarians  and  infidels,  who  had  dragged  out  so  many  centu 
ries  under  the  diabolical  oppression  of  the  absurd  sect  of  Ma 
homet,  should  at  length  be  reduced  to  the  Christian  faith,  t 

Padre  Mariana,  also,  a  venerable  Jesuit,  and  the  most  re 
nowned  historian  of  Spain,  considers  the  past  domination  of  the 
Moors  as  a  scourge  inflicted  on  the  Spanish  nation,  for  its  ini 
quities  ;  but  the  triumphant  war  with  Granada,  as  the  reward 
of  Heaven  for  its  great  act  of  propitiation  in  establishing  the 
glorious  tribunal  of  the  Inquisition!  No  sooner  (says  the 
worthy  father)  was  this  holy  office  opened  in  Spain,  than  there 
instantly  shone  forth  a  resplendent  light.  Then  it  was,  that, 
through  divine  favor,  the  nation  increased  in  power,  and  be 
came  competent  to  mrerthrow  and  trample  down  the  Moorish 
domination.  I 

Having  thus  cited  high  and  venerable  authority  for  consid 
ering  this  war  in  the  light  of  one  of  those  pious  enterprises 
denominated  crusades,  we  trust  we  have  said  enough  to  en 
gage  the  Christian  reader  to  follow  us  into  the  field,  and  to 
stand  by  us  to  the  very  issue  of  the  encounter. 


*  Lucio  Marino  Siculo.     Cosas  Memorabiles  de  Espafia,  lib.  20. 
t  Garibay.    Corapend.  Hist.  Espafia,  lib.  18,  a  22. 
t  Mariana.    Hist.  Espafia,  lib.  25,  i.  1. 


A   CHRONICLE 

OF 

THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 


CHAPTER  I. 

OF  THE  KINGDOM  OF  GRANADA,    AND  THE  TRIBUTE   WHICH  IT 
PAID  TO  THE  CASTILIAN  CROWN. 

THE  history  of  those  bloody  and  disastrous  wars,  which  have 
caused  the  downfall  of  mighty  empires,  (observes  Fray  Anto 
nio  Agapida,)  has  ever  been  considered  a  study  highly  delecta 
ble,  and  full  of  precious  edification.  What  then  must  be  the 
history  of  a  pious  crusade,  waged  by  the  most  Catholic  of 
sovereigns,  to  rescue  from  the  power  of  the  Infidels  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  but  benighted  regions  of  the  globe?  Listen 
then,  while,  from  the  solitude  of  my  cell,  I  relate  the  events 
of  the  conquest  of  Granada,  where  Christian  knight  and  tur- 
baned  Infidel  disputed,  inch  jy  inch,  the  fair  land  of  Andalu 
sia,  until  the  crescent,  that  symbol  of  heathenish  abomination, 
was  cast  down,  and  the  blessed  cross,  the  tree  of  our  redemp 
tion,  erected  in  its  stead. 

Nc../ly  eight  hundred  years  were  past  and  gone,  since  the 
Arabian  invaders  had  sealed  the  perdition  of  Spain,  by  the 
defeat  01  Don  Roderick,  the  last  of  her  Gothic  kings.  Since 
that  disastrous  event,  kingdom  after  kingdom  had  been  gradu 
ally  recovered  by  the  Christian  princes,  until  the  single,  but 
powerful,  territory  of  ^ranada  alone  remained  under  domina 
tion  of  the  Moors. 

This  renowned  kingdom  was  situated  in  the  southern  part  of 
Spain,  bordering  on  the  Mediterranean  sea,  and  defended  on 
the  land  side  by  lofty  and  rugged  mountains,  locking  up  within 
their  embraces,  deep,  rich,  and  verdant  valleys,  where  the 


g  THE  CONQUEST -OF   IRAN  AD  A. 

Sterility  Of  the  surrounding  heights  was  repaid  by  prodigal 
fertility.  The  city  of  Granada  lay  in  the  centre  of  the  king 
dom,  sheltered  as  it  were  in  the  lap  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  or 
chain  of  snowy  mountains.  It  covered  two  lofty  hills,  and  a 
deep  valley  which  divides  thsm,  through  which  flows  the  river 
Darro.  One  of  these  hills  was  crowned  by  the  royal  palace 
and  fortress  of  the  Alhambra,  capable  of  containing  forty 
thousand  men  within  its  walls  and  towers.  There  is  a  Moor 
ish  tradition,  that  the  king  who  built  this  mighty  pile,  was 
skilled  in  the  occult  sciences,  and  furnished  himself  with  gold 
and  silver  for  the  purpose  by  means  of  alchemy.*  Certainly, 
never  was  there  an  edifice  accomplished  in  a  superior  style  of 
barbaric  magnificence;  and  the  stranger  who,  even  at  the 
present  day,  wanders  among  its  silent  and  deserted  courts  and 
ruined  halls,  gazes  with  astonishment  at  its  gilded  and  fretted 
domes  and  luxurious  decorations,  still  retaining  their  bril 
liancy  and  beauty  in  defiance  of  the  ravages  of  time. 

Opposite  to  the  hill  on  which  stood  the  Alhambra,  was  its 
rival  hill,  on  the  summit  of  which  was  a  spacious  plain, 
covered  with  houses  and  crowded  with  inhabitants.  It  was 
commanded  by  a  fortress  called  the  Alcazaba.  The  declivities 
and  skirts  of  these  hills  were  covered  with  houses  to  the  num 
ber  of  seventy  thousand,  separated  by  narrow  streets  and 
small  squares,  according  to  the  custom  of  Moorish  cities.  The 
houses  had  interior  courts  and  gardens,  refreshed  by  fountains 
and  running  streams,  and  set  out  with  oranges,  citrons,  and 
pomegranates,  so  that  as  the  edifices  of  the  city  rose  above  each 
other  on  the  sides  of  the  hill,  they  presented  a  mingled  appear 
ance  .of  city  and  grove,  delightful  to  the  eye.  The  whole  was 
surrounded  by  high  walls,  three  leagues  in  circuit,  with  twelve 
gates,  and  fortified  by  a  thousand  and  thirty  towers.  The  ele 
vation  of  the  city,  and  the  neighborhood  of  the  Sierra  Nevada 
crowned  with  perpetual  snows,  tempered  the  fervid  rays  of 
summer;  so  that,  while  other  cities  were  panting  with  the  sul 
try  and  stifling  heat  of  the  dog-days,  the  most  salubrious 
breezes  played  through  the  marble  halls  of  Granada. 

The  glory  of  the  city,  however,  was  its  vega  or  plain,  which 
spread  out  to  a  circumference  of  thirty-seven  leagues,  sur 
rounded  by  lofty  mountains.  It  was  a  vast  garden  of  delight, 
refreshed  by  numerous  fountains,  and  by  the  silver  windings 
of  the  Xenil.  The  labor  and  ingenuity  of  the  Moors  had 

*  Zurita,  lib.  20,  c.  43, 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  9 

diverted  the  waters  of  this  river  into  thousands  of  rills  and 
streams,  and  diffused  them  over  the  whole  surface  of  the 
plain.  Indeed,  they  had  wrought  up  this  happy  region  to  a 
degree  of  wonderful  prosperity,  and  took  a  pride 'in  decorating 
it,  as  if  it  had  been  a  favorite  mistress.  The  hills  were  clothed 
with  orchards  and  vineyards,  the  valleys  embroidered  with 
gardens,  and  the  wide  plains  covered  with  waving  grain. 
Here  were  seen  in  profusion  the  orange,  the  citron,  the  fig,  and 
pomegranate,  with  great  plantations  of  mulberry  trees,  from 
which  was  produced  the  finest  of  silk.  The  vine  clambered 
from  tree  to  tree ;  the  grapes  hung  in  rich  clusters  about  the 
peasant's  cottage,  and  the  groves  were  rejoiced  by  the  perpet 
ual  song  of  the  nightingale.  In  a  word,  so  beautiful  was  the 
earth,  so  pure  the  air,  and  so  sei  3ne  the  sky,  of  this  delicious 
region,  that  the  Moors  imagined  the  paradise  of  their  Prophet 
to  be  situated  in  that  part  of  the  heaven  which  overhung  the 
kingdom  of  Granada.* 

This  ricn  and  populous  territory  had  been  left  in  quiet  pos 
session  of  the  Infidels,  on  condition  of  an  annual  tribute  to 
the  sovereign  of  Castile  and  Leon,  of  two  thousand  doblas  or 
pistoles  of  gold,  and  sixteen  hundred  Christian  captives ;  or,  in 
default  of  captives,  an  equal  number  of  Moors  to  be  surrendered 
as  slaves;  all  to  be  delivered  in  the  city  of  Cordova. t 

At  the  era  at  which  this  chronicle  commences,  Ferdinand 
and  Isabella,  of  glorious  and  happy  memory,  reigned  over  the 
united  kingdoms  of  Castile,  Leon,  and  Arragon;  and  Muley 
Aben  Hassan  sat  on  the  throne  of  Granada.  This  Muley  Aben 
Hassan  had  succeeded  to  his  father  Ismael  in  1465,  while 
Henry  IV.,  brother  and  immediate  predecessor  of  queen  Isa 
bella,  was  king  of  Castile  and  Leon.  He  was  of  the  illustrious 
lineage  of  Mohammed  Aben  Alaman,  the  first  Moorish  king  of 
Granada,  and  was  the  most  potent  of  his  line.  He  had  in  fac,  t 
augmented  in  power,  in  consequence  of  the  fall  of  other  Moor 
ish  kingdoms,  which  had  been  conquered  by  the  Christians. 
Many  cities  and  strong  places  of  those  kingdoms,  which  lay 
contiguous  to  Granada,  had  refused  to  submit  to  Christian  vas 
salage,  and  had  sheltered  themselves  under  the  protection  of 
Muley  Aben  Hassan.  His  territories  had  thus  increased  in 
wealth,  extent,  and  population,  beyond  all  former  example,  and 
contained  fourteen  cities  and  ninety-seven  fortified  towns, 


*  Juan  Botero  Benes.    Relaeiones  Universales  del  Mundo. 
t  Garibay.    Compend.  lib.  4,  c.  25. 


10  THE  CONQUEST  OP  OR  AN  AD  A. 

besides  numerous  unwalled  towns  and  villages,  defended  by 
formidable  castles.  The  spirit  of  Muley  Aben  Hassan  swelled 
with  his  possessions. 

The  tribute1  of  money  and  captives  had  been  regularly  paid 
by  his  father  Ismael;  and  Muley  Aben  Hassan  had,  on  one 
occasion,  attended  personally  in  Cordova,  at  the  payment.  He 
had  witnessed  the  taunts  and  sneers  of  the  haughty  Castilians ; 
and  so  indignant  was  the  proud  son  of  Af  ric  at  what  he-consid 
ered  a  degradation  of  his  race,  that  his  blood  boiled  whenever 
he  recollected  the  humiliating  scene. 

When  he  came  to  the  throne,  he  ceased  all  payment  of  the 
tribute;  and  it  was  sufficient  to  put  him  in  a  transport  of  rage, 
only  to  mention  it.  ' '  He  was  a  fierce  and  warlike  Infidel, " 
says  the  Catholic  Fray  Antonio  Agapida;  "his  bitterness 
against  the  holy  Christian  faith  had  been  signalized  in  battle, 
during  the  life-time  of  his  father;  and  the  same  diabolical 
spirit  of  hostility  was  apparent  in  his  ceasing  to  pay  this  most 
righteous  tribute." 


CHAPTER  II. 

HOW  THE  CATHOLIC    SOVEREIGNS  SENT    TO    DEMAND  ARREARS  OP 
TRIBUTE  OF  THE  MOOR,   AND  HOW  THE  MOOR  REPLIED. 

IN  the  year  1478,  a  Spanish  courtier,  of  powerful  frame  and 
haughty  demeanor,  arrived  at  the  gates  of  Granada,  as  ambas 
sador  from  the  Catholic  monarchs,  to  demand  the  arrear  of 
tribute.  His  name  was  Don  Juan  de  Vera,  a  zealous  and  de 
vout  knight,  full  of  ardor  for  the  faith  and  loyalty  for  the 
crown.  He  was  gallantly  mounted,  armed  at  all  points,  and 
followed  by  a  moderate,  but  well-appointed  retinue. 

The  Moorish  inhabitants  looked  jealously  at  this  small  but 
proud  array  of  Spanish  chivalry,  as  it  paraded,  with  that 
stateliness  possessed  only  by  Spanish  cavaliers,  through  the 
renowned  gate  of  Elvira.  They  were  struck  with  the  stern 
and  lofty  demeanor  of  Don  Juan  de  Vera,  and  his  sinewy 
frame,  which  showed  him  formed  for  hardy  deeds  of  arms ; 
and  they  supposed  he  had  come  in  search  of  distinction,  by 
defying  the  Moorish  knights  in  open  tourney,  or  in  the  famous 
tilt  Avith  reeds,  for  which  they  were  so  renowned ;  for  it  was 
still  the  custom  of  the  knights  of  either  nation  to  mingle 
in  these  courteous  and  chivalrous  contests,  during  the  intervals 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  H 

of  war.  When  they  learnt,  however,  that  he  was  come  to 
demand  the  tribute  so  abhorrent  to  the  ears  of  the  fiery  mon 
arch,  they  observed  that  it  well  required  a  warrior  of  his 
apparent  nerve,  to  execute  such  an  embassy. 

Muley  Aben  Hassan  received  the  cavalier  in  state,  seated  on 
a  magnificent  divan,  and  surrounded  by  the  officers  of  his 
court,  in  the  hall  of  ambassadors,  one  of  the  most  sumptuous 
apartments  of  the  Alhambra.  When  De  Vera  had  delivered 
his  message,  a  haughty  and  bitter  smile  curled  the  lip  of  the 
fierce  monarch.  "Tell  your  sovereigns,"  said  he,  "that  the 
kings  of  Granada,  who  used  to  pay  tribute  in  money  to  the 
Castilian  crown,  are  dead.  Our  mint  at  present  coins  nothing 
but  blades  of  scimitars  and  heads  of  lances."* 

The  defiance  couched  in  this  proud  reply,  was  heard  with 
stern  and  lofty  courtesy  by  Don  Juan  de  Vera,  for  he  was  a 
bold  soldier,  and  a  devout  hater  of  the  Infidels ;  and  he  saw 
iron  war  in  the  words  of  the  Moorish  monarch.  He  retired 
from  the  audience  chamber  with  stately  and  ceremonious 
gravity,  being  master  of  all  points  of  etiquette.  As  he  passed 
through  the  Court  of  Lions,  and  paused  to  regard  its  celebrated 
fountain,  he  fell  into  a  discourse  with  the  Moorish  courtiers  on 
certain  mysteries  of  the  Christian  faith.  The  arguments  ad 
vanced  by  those  Infidels  (says  Fray  Antonio  Agapida)  awak 
ened  the  pious  indignation  of  this  most  Christian  knight  and 
discreet  ambassador ;  but  still  he  restrained  himself  within  the 
limits  of  lofty  gravity,  leaning  on  the  pommel  of  his  sword, 
and  looking  down  with  ineffable  scorn  upon  the  weak  casuists 
around  him.  The  quick  and  subtle  Arabian  witlings  redoubled 
their  light  attacks  upon  this  stately  Spaniard,  and  thought 
they  had  completely  foiled  him  in  the  contest ;  but  the  stern 
Juan  de  Vera  had  an  argument  in  reserve,  for  which  they 
were  but  little  prepared ;  for,  on  one  of  them,  of  the  race  of  the 
Abeucerrages,  daring  to  question,  with  a  sneer,  the  immacu 
late  conception  of  the  blessed  virgin,  the  Catholic  knight  could 
no  longer  restrain  his  ire.  Raising  his  voice  of  a  sudden,  he 
told  the  Infidel  he  lied ;  and,  raising  his  arm  at  the  same  time, 
he  smote  him  on  the  head  with  his  sheathed  sword. 

In  an  instant  the  Court  of  Lions  glistened  with  the  flash  of 
arms,  and. its  fountains  would  have  been  dyed  with  blood,  had 
not  Muley  Aben  Hassan  overheard  the  tumult,  and  forbade  all 
appeal  to  arms,  pronouncing  the  person  of  the  ambassador 

*  Garibay.    Oompend.  lib.  40,  c.  29.— Conde.     Hist,  de  les  Arabes,  p.  4,  c.  34. 


12  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

sacred  while  within  his  territories.  The  Abencerrage  trea* 
sured  up  the  remembrance  of  the  insult  until  an  hour  of  ven 
geance  should  arrive,  and  the  ambassador  prayed  our  blessed 
lady  to  grant  him  an  opportunity  of  proving  her  immaculate 
conception  on  the  head  of  this  turbaned  Infidel.* 

Notwithstanding  this  occcurrence,  Don  Juan  de  Vera  was 
treated  with  great  distinction  by  Muley  Aben  Hassan;  but 
nothing  could  make  him  unbend  from  his  stern  and  stately 
reserve.  Before  his  departure,  a  scimitar  was  sent  to  him  by 
the  king;  the  blade  of  the  finest  Damascas  steel,  the  hilt  of 
agate  enriched  with  precious  stones,  and  the  guard  of  gold. 
De  Vera  drew  it,  and  smiled  grimly  as  he  noticed  the  admirable 
temper  of  the  blade.  "  His  majesty  has  given  me  a  trenchant 
weapon, "  said  he ;  "I  trust  a  time  will  come  when  I  may  show 
him  that  I  know  how  to  use  his  royal  present. "  The  reply  was 
considered  as  a  compliment,  of  course;  the  bystanders  little 
knew  the  bitter  hostility  that  lay  couched  beneath. 

Don  Juan  de  Vera  and  his  companions,  during  their  brief 
sojourn  at  Granada,  learned  the  force,  and  situation  of  the 
Moor,  with  the  eyes  of  practiced  warriors.  They  saw  that  he 
was  well  prepared  for  hostilities.  His  walls  and  towers  were 
of  vast  strength,  in  complete  repair,  and  mounted  with  lom- 
bards  and  other  heavy  ordnance.  His  magazines  were  well 
stored  with  all  the  munitions  of  war :  he  had  a  mighty  host  of 
foot-soldiers,  together  with  squadrons  of  cavalry,  ready  to 
scour  the  country  and  carry  on  either  defensive  or  predatory 
warfare.  The  Christian  warriors  noted  these  things  without 
dismay;  their  hearts  rather  glowed  with  emulation,  at  the 
thoughts  of  encountering  so  worthy  a  foe.  As  they  slowly 
pranced  through  the  streets  of  Granada,  on  their  departure, 
they  looked  round  with  eagerness  on  its  stately  palaces  and 
sumptuous  mosques ;  on  its  alcayceria  or  bazar,  crowded  with 
silks  and  cloth  of  silver  and  gold,  with  jewels  and  precious 
stones,  and  other  rich  merchandise,  the  luxuries  of  every 
clime;  and  they  longed  for  the  time  when  all  this  wealth 
should  be  the  spoil  of  the  soldiers  of  the  faith,  and  when  each 
tramp  of  their  steeds  might  be  fetlock  deep  in  the  blood  and 
carnage  of  the  Infidels. 

Don  Juan  de  Vera  and  his  little  band  pursued  their  way 

*  The  Curate  of  Los  Palacios  also  records  this  anecdote,  but  mentions  it  as  hap 
pening  on  a  subsequent  occasion,  when  Don  Juan  de  Vera  was  sent  to  negotiate  for 
certain  Christian  captives.  There  appears  every  reason,  however,  to  consider  Fray 
Antonio  Agapida  most  correct  in  the  period  to  which  he  refers  it. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  13 

•slowly  through  the  country,  to  the  Christian  frontier.  Every 
town  was  strongly  fortified.  The  vega  was  studded  with  tow 
ers  of  refuge  for  the  peasantry ;  every  pass  of  the  mountain 
had  its  castle  of  defence,  every  lofty  height  its  watch-tower. 
As  the  Christian  cavaliers  passed  under  the  walls  of  the  for 
tresses,  lances  and  scimitars  flashed  from  their  battlements, 
and  the  turbaned  sentinels  seemed  to  dart  from  their  dark  eyes 
glances  of  hatred  and  defiance.  It  was  evident  that  a  war  with 
this  kingdom  must  be  one  of  doughty  peril  and  valiant  enter 
prise  ;  a  war  of  posts,  where  every  step  must  be  gained  by  toil 
and  bloodshed,  and  maintained  with  the  utmost  difficulty. 
The  warrior  spirit  of  the  cavaliers  kindled  at  the  thoughts, 
and  they  were  impatient  for  hostilities ;  "not,"  says  Antonio 
Agapida,  "  for  any  thirst  for  rapine  and  revenge,  but  from  that 
pure  and  holy  indignation  which  every  Spanish  knight  enter 
tained  at  beholding  this  beautiful  dominion  of  his  ancestors 
defiled  by  the  footsteps  of  Infidel  usurpers.  It  was  impossi 
ble,"  he  adds,  "  to  contemplate  this  delicious  country,  and  not 
long  to  see  it  restored  to  the  dominion  of  the  true  faith,  and 
the  sway  of  the  Christian  monarchs." 

When  Don  Juan  de  Vera  returned  to  the  Castilian  court, 
and  reported  the  particulars  of  his  mission,  and  all  that  he  had 
heard  and  seen  in  the  Moorish  territories,  he  was  highly  hon 
ored  and  rewarded  by  king-  Ferdinand ;  and  the  zeal  he  had 
shown  in  vindication  of  the  sinless  conception  of  the  blessed 
virgin,  w«-  ot  only  applauded  by  that  most  Catholic  of  sov 
ereigns,  but  gained  him  great  favor  and  renown  among  all 
pious  cavaliers  and  reverend  prelates. 


CHAPTEE  III. 

HOW  THE  MOOR  DETERMINED  TO  STRIKE  THE  FIRST  BLOW  IN 
THE  WAR. 

THE  defiance  thus  hurled  at  the  Castilian  sovereigns  by  the 
fiery  Moorish  king,  would  at  once  have  been  answered  by  the 
thunder  of  their  artillery ;  but  they  were  embroiled,  at  that 
time,  in  a  war  with  Portugal,  and  in  contests  with  their  own 
factious  nobles.  The  truce,  therefore,  which  had  existed  for 
many  years  between  the  nations,  was  suffered  to  continue ;  the 
wary  Ferdinand  reserving  the  refusal  to  pay  tribute  as  a  fair 


14  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

ground  for  war.  whenever  the  favorable  moment  to  wage  it 
should  arrive. 

In  the  course  of  three  year  ••,  the  war  with  Portugal  was  ter 
minated,  and  the  factions  of  the  Spanish  nobles  were,  for  the 
most  part,  quelled.  The  Castilian  sovereigns  now  turned  their 
thoughts  to  what,  from  the  time  of  the  union  of  their  crowns, 
had  been  the  great  object  of  their  ambition, — the  conquest  of 
Granada,  and  the  complete  extirpation  of  the  Moslem  power 
from  Spain.  Ferdinand,  whose  pious  zeal  was  quickened  by 
motives  of  temporal  policy,  looked  with  a  craving  eye  at  the 
rich  territory  of  the  Moor,  studded  with  innumerable  towns 
and  cities.  He  determined  to  carry  on  the  war  with  cautious 
and  persevering  patience,  taking  town  after  town  and  fortress 
after  fortress,  and  gradually  plucking  away  all  the  supports, 
before  he  attempted  the  Moorish  capital.  k '  I  will  pick  out  the 
seeds,  one  by  one,  of  this  pomegranate, "  said  the  wary  Fer 
dinand.* 

Muley  Aben  Hassan  was  aware  of  the  hostile  intentions  of 
the  Catholic  monarch,  but  felt  confident  in  his  means  of 
resisting  them.  He  had  amassed  great  wealth,  during  a  tran 
quil  reign ;  he  had  strengthened  the  defences  of  his  kingdom, 
and  had  drawn  large  bodies  of  auxiliary  troops  from  Barbary, 
besides  making  arrangements  with  the  African  princes  to 
assist  him  with  supplies,  in  case  of  emergency.  His  subjects 
were  fierce  of  spirit,  stout  of  heart,  and  valiant  of  hand.  In 
ured  to  the  exercises  of  war,  they  could  fight  skilfully  on  foot, 
but,  above  all,  were  dexterous  horsemen,  whether  heavily 
armed  and  fully  appointed,  or  lightly  mounted  a  la  geneta, 
with  simply  lance  and  target.  They  were  patient  of  fatigue, 
hunger,  thirst,  and  nakedness;  prompt  for  war,  at  the  first 
summons  of  their  king,  and  tenacious  in  defence  of  their  towns 
and  possessions. 

Thus  amply  provided  for  war,  Muley  Aben  Hassan  deter 
mined  to  be  beforehand  with  the  politic  Ferdinand,  and  to  be 
the  first  to  strike  a  blow.  In  the  truce  which  existed  between 
them,  there  was  a  singular  clause,  permitting  either  party  to 
make  sudden  inroads  and  assaults  upon  towns  and  fortresses, 
provided  they  were  done  furtively  and  by  stratagem,  without 
display  of  banners  or  sound  of  trumpet,  or  regular  encamp 
ment,  and  that  they  did  not  last  above  three  days.f  This  gave 


*  Granada  is  the  Spanish  term  for  pomegranate. 

t  Zurita.    Anales  de  Aragon,  1.  30,  c.  41.— Mariana.    Hist,  de  Espafia,  1.  25,  c. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  15 

rise  to  frequent  enterprises  of  a  hardy  and  adventurous  char 
acter,  in  which  castles  and  strongholds  were  taken  by  surprise, 
and  carried  sword  in  hand.  A  long  time  had  elapsed,  how 
ever,  without  any  outrage  of  the  kind  on  the  part  of  the 
Moors ;  and  the  Christian  towns  on  the  frontiers  had  all,  in 
consequence,  fallen  into  a  state  of  the  most  negligent  security. 

Muley  Aben  Hassan  cast  his  eyes  round  to  select  his  object 
of  attack,  when  information  was  brought  him  that  the  for 
tress  of  Zahara  was  but  feebly  garrisoned  and  scantily  sup 
plied,  and  that  its  alcayde  was  careless  of  his  charge.  This 
important  post  was  on  the  frontier,  between  Honda  and  Me 
dina  Sidonia,  and  was  built  on  the  crest  of  a  rocky  mountain, 
with  a  strong  castle  perched  above  it,  upon  a  cliff,  so  high  that 
it  was  said  to  be  above  the  flight  of  birds  or  drift  of  clouds. 
The  streets  and  many  of  the  houses  were  mere  excavations, 
wrought  out  of  the  living  rock.  The  town  had  but  one  gate, 
opening  to  the  west,  and  defended  by  towers  and  bulwarks. 
The  only  ascent  to  this  cragged  fortress  was  by  roads  cut  in 
the  rock,  and  so  rugged  as  in  many  places  to  resemble  broken 
stairs.  Such  was  the  situation  of  the  mountain  fortress  of 
Zahara,  which  seemed  to  set  all  attack  at  defiance,  insomuch 
that  it  had  become  so  proverbial  throughout  Spain,  that  a 
woman  of  forbidding  and  inaccessible  virtue  was  called  a 
Zaharena.  But  the  strongest  fortress  and  sternest  virtue  have 
weak  points,  and  require  unremitting  vigilance  to  guard 
them:  let  warrior  and  dame  take  warning  from  the  fate  of 
Zahara. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

EXPEDITION  OF  MULEY  ABEN  HASSAN  AGAINST  THE  FORTRESS  OF 

ZAHARA. 

IT  was  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  one  thousand  four  hundred 
and  eighty-one,  and  but  a  night  or  two  after  the  festival  of  the 
most  blessed  Nativity,  that  Muley  Aben  Hassan  made  his  fa 
mous  attack  upon  Zahara.  The  inhabitants  of  the  place  were 
sunk  in  profound  sleep;  the  very  sentinel  had  deserted  his 
post,  and  sought  shelter  from  a  tempest  which  had  raged  for 
three  nights  in  succession ;  for  it  appeared  but  little  probable 
that  an  enemy  would  be  abroad  during  such  an  uproar  of  the 
elements.  But  evil  spirits  work  best  during  a  storm,  (observe 


16          THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

the  worthy  Antonio  Agapida,)  and  Muley  Aben  Hassan  found 
such  a  season  most  suitable  for  his  diabolical  purposes.  In  the 
midst  of  the  night,  an  uproar  arose  within  the  walls  of  Zahara, 
more  awful  than  the  raging  of  the  storm.  A  fearful  alarm  cry 
— "  The  Moor!  the  Moor!"  resounded  through  the  streets,  min 
gled  with  the  clash  of  arms,  the  shriek  of  anguish,  and  the 
shout  of  victory.  Muley  Aben  Hassan,  at  the  head  of  a  power 
ful  force,  had  hurried  from  Granada,  and  passed  unobserved 
through  the  mountains  in  the  obscurity  of  the  tempest.  While 
the  storm  pelted  the  sentinel  from  his  post,  and  howled  round 
tower  and  battlement,  the  Moors  had  planted  their  scaling- 
ladders,  and  mounted  securely,  into  both  town  and  castle. 
The  garrison  was  unsuspicious  of  danger,  until  battle  and 
massacre  burst  forth  within  its  very  walls.  It  seemed  to 
the  affrighted  inhabitants,  as  if  the  fiends  of  the  air  had  come 
upon  the  wings  of  the  wind,  and  possessed  themselves  of  tower 
and  turret.  The  war  cry  resounded  on  every  side,  shout 
answering  shout,  above,  below,  on  the  battlements  of  the 
castle,  in  the  streets  of  the  town— the  foe  was  in  all  parts 
wrapped  in  obscurity,  but  acting  in  concert  by  the  aid  of 
preconcerted  signals.  Starting  from  sleep,  the  soldiers  were 
intercepted  and  cut  down  as  they  rushed  from  their  quarters ; 
or,  if  they  escaped,  they  knew  not  where  to  assemble,  or 
where  to  strike.  Wherever  lights  appeared,  the  flashing 
scimitar  was  at  its  deadly  work,  and  all  who  attempted  resist 
ance  fell  beneath  its  edge. 

In  a  little  while,  the  struggle  was  at  an  end.  Those  who 
were  not  slain  took  refuge  in  the  secret  places  of  their  houses, 
or  gave  themselves  up  as  captives.  The  clash  of  arms  ceased ; 
and  the  storm  continued  its  howling,  mingled  with  the  occa 
sional  shout  of  the  Moorish  soldiery,  roaming  in  search  of 
plunder.  While  the  inhabitants  were  trembling  for  their  fate, 
a  trumpet  resounded  through  the  streets,  summoning  them  all 
to  assemble,  unarmed,  in  the  public  square.  Here  they  were 
surrounded  by  soldiery,  and  strictly  guarded,  until  day-break. 
When  the  day  dawned,  it  was  piteous  to  behold  this  once  pros 
perous  community,  who  had  lain  down  to  rest  in  peaceful 
security  ^  now  crowded  together  without  distinction  of  age,  or 
rank,  or  sex,  and  almost  without  raiment,  during  the  severity 
of  a  wintry  storm.  The  fierce  Muley  Aben  Hassan  turned 
a  deaf  ear  to  all  their  prayers  and  remonstrances,  and  ordered 
them  to  be  conducted  captives  to  Granada.  Leaving  a  strong 
garrison  in  both  town  and  castle,  with  orders  to  put  them  in  a 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  17 

complete  state  of  defence,  he  returned,  flushed  with  victory, 
to  his  capital,  entering  it  at  the  head  of  his  troops,  laden  with 
spoil,  and  bearing  in  triumph  the  banners  and  pennons  taken 
at  Zahara. 

While  preparations  were  making  for  jousts  and  other  festi 
vities,  in  honour  of  this  victory  over  the  Christians,  the  cap 
tives  of  Zahara  arrived— a  wretched  train  of  men,  women,  and 
children,  worn  out  with  fatigue  and  haggard  with  despair,  and 
driven  like  cattle  into  the  city  gates,  by  a  detachment  of  Moor 
ish  soldiery. 

Deep  was  the  grief  and  indignation  of  the  people  of  Gra 
nada,  at  this  cruel  scene.  Old  men,  who  had  experienced  the 
calamities  of  warfare,  anticipated  coming  troubles.  Mothers 
clasped  their  infants  to  their  breasts,  as  they  beheld  the  hap 
less  females  of  Zahara,  with  their  children  expiring  in  their 
arms.  On  every  side,  the  accents  of  pity  for  the  sufferers 
were  mingled  with  execrations  of  the  barbarity  of  the  king. 
The  preparations  for  festivity  were  neglected ;  and  the  viands, 
which  were  to  have  feasted  the  conquerors,  were  distributed 
among  the  captives. 

The  nobles  and  alfaquis,  however,  repaired  to  the  Alhambra, 
to  congratulate  the  king;  for,  whatever  storms  may  rage  in 
the  lower  regions  of  society,  rarely  do  any  clouds,  but  clouds 
of  incense,  rise  to  the  awful  eminence  of  the  throne.  In  this 
instance,  however,  a  voice  rose  from  the  midst  of  the  obse 
quious  crowd,  that  burst  like  thunder  upon  the  ears  of  Aben 
Hassan.  "Wo!  wo!  wo!  to  Granada!"  exclaimed  the  voice ; 
"its  hour  of  desolation  approaches.  The  ruins  of  Zahara 
will  fall  upon  our  heads;  my  spirit  tells  me  that  the  end  of 
our  empire  is  at  hand!"  All  shrunk  back  aghast,  and  left 
the  denouncer  of  wo  standing  alone  in  the  centre  of  the  hall. 
He  was  an  ancient  and  hoary  man,  in  the  rude  attire  of  a 
dervise.  Age  had  withered  his  form  without  quenching  the 
fire  of  his  spirit,  which  glared  in  baleful  lustre  from  his  eyes. 
He  was  (say  the  Arabian  historians)  one  of  those  holy  men 
termed  santons,  who  pass  their  lives  in  hermitages,  in  fast 
ing,  meditation,  and  prayer,  until  they  attain  to  the  purity  of 
saints  and  the  foresight  of  prophets.  "He  was,"  says  the 
indignant  Fray  Antonio  Agapida,  "a  son  of  Belial,  one  of 
those  fanatic  infidels  possessed  by  the  devil,  who  are  some 
times  permitted  to  predict  the  truth  to  their  followers ;  but 
with  the  proviso,  that  their  predictions  shall  be  of  no  avail. " 

The  voice  of  the  santon  resounded  through  the  lofty  hall  of 


18  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

the  Alhambra,  and  struck  silence  and  awe  into  the  crowd  of 
courtly  sycophants.  Muley  Aben  Hassan  alone  was  unmoved ; 
he  eyed  the  hoary  anchorite  with  scorn  as  he  stood  dauntless 
before  him,  and  treated  his  predictions  as  the  ravings  of  a 
maniac.  The  santon  rushed  from  the  royal  presence,  and,  de 
scending  into  the  city,  hurried  through  its  streets  and  squares 
with  frantic  gesticulations.  His  voice  was  heard,  in  every 
part,  in  awful  denunciation.  "The  peace  is  broken!  the 
exterminating  war  is  commenced.  Wo !  wo !  wo  to  Granada ! 
its  fall  is  at  hand!  desolation  shall  dwell  in  its  palaces;  its 
strong  men  shall  fall  beneath  the  sword,  its  children  and 
maidens  shall  be  led  into  captivity.  Zahara  is  but  ft  type  of 
Granada !" 

Terror  seized  upon  the  populace,  for  they  considered  these 
ravings  as  the  inspirations  of  prophecy.  They  hid  themselves 
in  their  dwellings,  as  in  a  time  of  general  mourning;  or,  if 
they  went  abroad,  it  was  to  gather  together  in  knots  in  the 
streets  and  squares,  to  alarm  each  other  with  dismal  fore 
bodings,  and  to  curse  the  rashness  and  cruelty  of  the  fierce 
Aben  Hassan. 

The  Moorish  monarch  heeded  not  their  murmurs.  Knowing 
that  his  exploit  must  draw  upon  him  the  vengeance  of  the 
Christians,  he  now  threw  off  all  reserve,  and  made  attempts  to 
surprise  Castellan  and  Elvira,  though  without  success.  He 
sent  alfaquis,  also,  to  the  Barbary  powers,  informing  them 
that  the  sword  was  drawn,  and  inviting  them  to  aid  in  main 
taining  the  kingdom  of  Granada,  and  the  religion  of  Mahomet, 
against  the  violence  of  unbelievers. 


CHAPTER  V. 

EXPEDITION   OF  THE  MARQUES  OF  CADIZ  AGAINST  ALHAMA. 

GREAT  was  the  indignation  of  king  Ferdinand,  when  he 
heard  of  the  storming  of  Zahara— more  especially  as  it  had 
anticipated  his  intention  of  giving  the  first  blow  in  this  event 
ful  war.  He  valued  himself  upon  his  deep  and  prudent  policy ; 
and  there  is  nothing  which  politic  monarchs  can  less  forgive, 
than  thus  being  forestalled  by  an  adversary.  He  immediately 
issued  orders  to  all  the  adelantados  and  alcaydes  of  the  fron- 


THE  CONQEES'l    OP   GRANADA.  19 

tiers,  to  maintain  the  utmost  vigilance  at  their  several  posts, 
and  to  prepare  to  carry  fire  and  sword  into  the  territories  of 
the  Moors. 

Among  the  many  valiant  cavaliers  who  rallied  round  the 
throne  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  one  of  the  most  eminent  in 
rank  and  renowned  in  arms  was  Don  Roderigo  Ponce  de  Leon, 
marques  of  Cadiz.  As  he  was  the  distinguished  champion  of 
tin's  holy  war,  and  commanded  in  most  of  its  enterprises  and 
battles,  it  is  meet  that  some  particular  account  should  be  given 
of  him.  He  was  born  in  1443,  of  the  valiant  lineage  of  the 
Ponces,  and  from  his  earliest  youth  had  rendered  himself 
illustrious  in  the  field.  He  was  of  the  middle  stature,  with  a 
muscular  and  powerful  frame,  capable  of  great  exertion  and 
fatigue.  His  hair  and  beard  were  red  and  curled,  his  coun 
tenance  was  open  and  magnanimous,  of  a  ruddy  complexion, 
and  slightly  marked  with  the  small-pox.  He  was  temperate, 
chaste,  valiant,  vigilant;  a  just  and  generous  master  to  his 
vassals;  frank  and  noble  in  his  deportment  towards  his  equals; 
loving  and  faithful  to  his  friends;  fierce  and  terrible,  yet 
magnanimous,  to  his  enemies.  He  was  considered  the  mirror 
of  chivalry  of  his  times,  and  compared  by  contemporary  his 
torians  to  the  immortal  Cid. 

The  marques  of  Cadiz  had  vast  possessions  in  the  most 
fertile  parts  of  Andalusia,  including  many  towns  and  castles, 
and  could  lead  forth  an  army  into  the  field  from  his  own  vas 
sals  and  dependants.  On  receiving  the  orders  of  the  king,  he 
burned  to  signalize  himself  by  some  sudden  incursion  into 'the 
kingdom  of  Granada,  that  should  give  a  brilliant  commence 
ment  to  the  war,  and  should  console  the  sovereigns  for  the  in 
sult  they  had  received  in  the  capture  of  Zahara.  As  his  estates 
lay  near  to  the  Moorish  frontiers,  and  were  subject  to  sudden 
inroads,  he  had  always  in  his  pay  numbers  of  adalides,  or 
scouts  and  guides,  many  of  them  converted  Moors.  These  he 
sent  out  in  all  directions,  to  watch  the  movements  of  the 
enemy,  and  to  procure  all  kinds  of  information  important  to 
the  security  of  the  frontier.  One  of  these  spies  came  to  Mm 
one  day  in  his  town  of  Marchena,  and  informed  him  that  the 
Moorish  town  of  Alhama  was  slightly  garrisoned  and  negli 
gently  guarded,  and  might  be  taken  by  surprise.  This  was  a 
large,  wealthy,  and  populous  place  within  a  few  leagues  of 
Granada.  It  was  situated  on  a  rocky  height,  nearly  surround 
ed  by  a  river,  and  defended  by  a  fortress  to  which  there  was 
no  access  but  by  a  steep  and  cragged  ascent.  The  strength  of 


20  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

its  situation,  and  its  being  embosomed  in  the  centre  of  the 
kingdom,  had  produced  the  careless  security  which  now  in 
vited  attack. 

To  ascertain  fully  the  state  of  the  fortress,  the  marques  dis 
patched  secretly  a  veteran  soldier,  who  was  highly  in  his  con 
fidence.  His  name  was  Ortega  de  Prado,  a  man  of  great  ac 
tivity,  shrewdness,  and  valor,  and  captain  of  escaladors,  or 
those  employed  to  scale  the  walls  of  fortresses  in  time  of 
attack.  Ortega  approached  Alhama  one  moonless  night,  and 
paced  along  its  walls  with  noiseless  step,  laying  his  ear  occa 
sionally  to  the  ground  or  to  the  wall.  Every  time,  he  distin 
guished  the  measured  tread  of  a  sentinel,  and  now  and  then 
the  challenge  of  the  nightwatch  going  its  rounds.  Finding  the 
town  thus  guarded,  he  clambered  to  the  castle: — there  all 
was  silent.  As  he  ranged  its  lofty  battlements,  between  him 
and  the  sky  he  saw  no  sentinel  on  duty.  He  noticed  certain 
places  where  the  wall  might  be  ascended  by  scaling-ladders ; 
and,  having  marked  the  hour  of  relieving  guard,  and  made  all 
necessary  observations,  he  retired  without  being  discovered. 

Ortega  returned  to  Marchena,  and  assured  the  marques  of 
Cadiz  of  the  practicability  of  scaling  the  castle  of  Alhama,  and 
taking  it  by  surprise.  The  marques  had  a  secret  conference 
with  Don  Pedro  Henriquez,  adelantado  of  Andalusia;  Don 
Diego  de  Merlo,  commander  of  Seville ;  and  Sancho  de  Avila, 
alcayde  of  Carmona,  who  all  agreed  to  aid  him  with  their 
forces.  On  an  appointed  day,  the  several  commanders  assem 
bled  at  Marchena  with  their  troops  and  retainers.  None  but 
the  leaders  knew  the  object  or  destination  of  the  enterprise ; 
but  it  was  enough  to  rouse  the  Andalusian  spirit,  to  know  that 
a  foray  was  intended  into-  the  country  of  their  old  enemies,  the 
Moors.  Secrecy  and  celerity  were  necessary  for  success,  They 
set  out  promptly,  with  three  thousand  genetes,  or  light  caval 
ry,  and  four  thousand  infantry.  They  chose  a  route*  but  little 
travelled,  by  the  way  of  Antiquera,  passing  with  great  labor 
through  rugged  and  solitary  denies  of  the  Sierra  or  chain  of 
mountains  of  Alzerifa,  and  left  all  their  baggage  on  the  banks 
of  the  river  Yeguas,  to  be  brought  after  them.  Their  march 
was  principally  in  the  night ;  all  day  they  remained  quiet ;  no 
noise  was  suffered  in  their  camp,  and  no  fires  were  made,  lest 
the  smoke  should  betray  them.  On  the  third  day  they  resumed 
their  march  as  the  evening  darkened,  and  forcing  themselves 
forward  at  as  quick  a  pace  as  the  rugged  and  dangerous  moun 
tain  roads  would  permit,  they  descended  towards  midnight 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  21 

into  a  small  deep  valley,  only  half  a  league  from  Albania. 
Here  they  made  a  halt,  fatigued  by  this  forced  march,  during 
a  long  dark  evening  towards  the  end  of  February. 

The  marques  of  Cadiz  now  explained  to  the  troops  the  object 
of  the  expedition.  He  told  them  it  was  for  the  glory  of  the 
most  holy  faith,  and  to  avenge  the  wrongs  of  their  countrymen 
of  Zahara ;  and  that  the  rich  town  of  Albania,  full  of  wealthy 
spoil,  was  the  place  to  be  attacked.  The  troops  were  roused 
to  new  ardor  by  these  words,  and  desired  to  be  led  forthwith 
to  the  assault.  They  arrived  close  to  Albania  about  two  hours 
before  daybreak.  Here  the  army  remained  in  ambush,  while 
three  hundred  men  were  dispatched  to  scale  the  walls  and  get 
possession  of  the  castle.  They  were  picked  men,  many  of  them 
alcaydes  and  officers,  men  who  preferred  death  to  dishonor. 
This  gallant  band  was  guided  by  the  escalador  Ortega  de 
Prado,  at  the  head  of  thirty  men  with  scaling-ladders.  They 
clambered  the  ascent  to  the  castle  in  silence,  and  arrived  under 
the  dark  shadow  of  its  towers  without  being  discovered.  Not 
a  light  was  to  be  seen,  not  a  sound  to  be  heard ;  the  whole  place 
was  wrapped  in  profound  repose. 

Fixing  their  ladders,  they  ascended  cautiously  and  with 
noiseless  steps.  Ortega  was  the  first  that  mounted  upon  the 
battlements,  followed  by  one  Martin  Galindo,  a  youthful  es 
quire,  full  of  spirit  and  eager  for  distinction.  Moving  stealthily 
along  the  parapet  to  the  portal  of  the  citadel,  they  came  upon 
the  sentinel  by  surprise.  Ortega  seized  him  by  the  throat, 
brandished  a  dagger  before  his  eyes,  and  ordered  him  to  point 
the  way  to  the  guard-room.  The  infidel  obeyed,  and  was  in 
stantly  dispatched,  to  prevent  his  giving  an  alarm.  The  guard 
room  was  a  scene  rather  of  massacre  than  combat.  Some  of 
the  soldiery  were  killed  while  sleeping,  others  were  cut  down 
almost  without  resistance,  bewildered  by  so  unexpected  an  as 
sault  :  all  were  dispatched,  for  the  scaling  party  was  too  small 
to  make  prisoners  or  to  spare.  The  alarm  spread  throughout 
the  castle,  but  by  this  time  the  three  hundred  picked  men  had 
mounted  the  battlements.  The  garrison,  startled  from  sleep, 
found  the  enemy  already  masters  of  the  towers.  Some  of  the 
Moors  were  cut  down  at  once,  others  fought  desperately  from 
room  to  room,  and  the  whole  castle  resounded  with  the  clash 
of  arms,  the  cries  of  the  combatants,  and  the  groans  of  the 
wounded.  The  army  in  ambush,  finding  by  the  uproar  that 
the  castle  was  surprised,  now  rushed  from  their  concealment, 
and  approached  the  walls  with  loud  shouts,  and  sound  of  kefr 


22  TEE  CONQUEST   OF  GRANADA. 

tie-drums  and  trumpets,  to  increase  the  confusion  and  dismay 
of  the  garrison.  A  violent  conflict  took  place  in  the  court  of 
the  castle,  where  several  of  the  scaling  party  sought  to  throw 
open  the  gates  to  adnsit  their  countrymen.  Here  fell  two 
valiant  alcaydes,  Nicholas  de  Roja  and  Sancho  de  Avila ;  but 
they  fell  honorably,  upon  a  heap  of  slain.  At  length  Ortega 
de  Prado  succeeded  in  throwing  open  a  postern,  through  which 
the  marques  of  Cadiz,  the  adelantado  of  Andalusia,  and  Don 
Diego  de  Merlo,  entered  with  a  host  of  followers,  and  the  cita 
del  remained  in  full  possession  of  the  Christians. 

As  the  Spanish  cavaliers  were  ranging  from  room  to  room, 
the  marques  of  Cadiz,  entering  an  apartment  of  superior  rich 
ness  to  the  rest,  beheld,  by  the  light  of  a  silver  lamp,  a  beauti 
ful  Moorish  female,  the  wife  of  the  alcayde  of  the  castle,  whose 
husband  was  absent,  attending  a  wedding-feast  at  Velez  Mal 
aga.  She  would  have  fled  at  the  sight  of  a  Christian  warrior 
in  her  apartment,  but,  entangled  in  the  covering  of  the  bed, 
she  fell  at  the  feet  of  the  marques,  imploring  mercy.  The 
Christian  cavalier,  who  had  a  soul  full  of  honor  and  courtesy 
towards  the  sex,  raised  her  from  the  floor,  and  endeavored  to 
allay  her  fears ;  but  they  were  increased  at  the  sight  of  her 
female  attendants,  pursued  into  the  room  by  the  Spanish  sol 
diery.  The  marques  reproached  his  soldiers  with  their  un 
manly  conduct,  and  reminded  them  that  they  made  war  upon 
men,  not  on  defenceless  women.  Having  soothed  the  terrors 
of  the  females  by  the  promise  of  honorable  protection,  he  ap 
pointed  a  trusty  guard  to  watch  over  the  security  of  their 
apartment. 

The  castle  was  now  taken;  but  the  town  below  it  was  in 
arms.  It  was  broad  day,  and  the  people,  recovered  from  their 
panic,  were  enabled  to  see  and  estimate  the  force  of  the  enemy. 
The  inhabitants  were  chiefly  merchants  and  tradespeople ;  but 
the  Moors  all  possessed  a  knowledge  of  the  use  of  weapons,  and 
were  of  brave  and  warlike  spirit.  They  confided  in  the  strength 
of  their  walls,  and  the  certainty  of  speedy  relief  from  Granada, 
which  was  but  about  eight  leagues  distant.  Manning  the  bat 
tlements  and  towers,  they  discharged  showers  of  stones  and 
arrows,  whenever  the  part  of  the  Christian  army,  without  the 
walls,  attempted  to  approach.  They  barricadoed  the  entrances 
of  their  streets,  also,  which  opened  towards  the  castle ;  station 
ing  men  expert  at  the  cross-bow  and  arquebuse.  These  kept 
up  a  constant  fire  upon  the  gate  of  the  castle,  so  that  no  one 
could  sally  forth  without  being  instantly  shot  down.  Two 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.         23 

valiant  cavaliers,  who  attempted  to  lead  forth  a  party  in  defi 
ance  of  this  fatal  tempest,  were  shot  dead  at  the  very  portal. 

The  Christians  now  found  themselves  in  a  situation  of  great 
peril.  Reinforcements  must  soon  arrive  to  the  enemy  from 
Granada ;  unless,  therefore,  they  gained  possession  of  the  town 
in  the  course  of  the  day,  they  were  Likely  to  be  surrounded 
and  beleaguered,  without  provisions,  in  the  castle.  Some  ob 
served  that,  even  if  they  took  the  town,  they  should  not  be 
able  to  maintain  possession  of  it.  They  proposed,  therefore,  to 
make  booty  of  every  thing  valuable,  to  sack  the  castle,  set  it 
on  fire,  and  make  good  their  retreat  to  Seville. 

The  marques  of  Cadiz  was  of  different  counsel.  ' '  God  has 
given  the  citadel  into  Christian  hands,"  said  he;  "he  will  no 
doubt  strengthen  them  to  maintain  it.  We  have  gained  the 
place  with  difficulty  and  bloodshed ;  it  would  be  a  stain  upon 
our  honor  to  abandon  it  through  fear  of  imaginary  dangers." 
The  adelantado  and  Don  Diego  de  Merlo  joined  in  his  opinion ; 
but  without  their  earnest  and  united  remonstrances,  the  place 
would  have  been  abandoned ;  so  exhausted  were  the  troops  by 
forced  marches  and  hard  fighting,  and  so  apprehensive  of  the 
approach  of  the  Moors  of  Granada. 

The  strength  and  spirits  of  the  party  within  the  castle  were 
in  some  degree  restored  by  the  provisions  which  they  found. 
The  Christian  army  beneath  the  town,  being  also  refreshed  by 
a  morning's  repast,  advanced  vigorously  to  the  attack  of  the 
walls.  They  planted  their  scaling-ladders,  and,  swarming  up, 
sword  in  hand,  fought  fiercely  with  the  Moorish  soldiery  upon 
the  ramparts. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  marquis  of  Cadiz,  seeing  that  the  gate 
of  the  castle,  which  opened  toward  the  city,  was  completely 
commanded  by  the  artillery  of  the  enemy,  ordered  a  large 
breach  to  be  made  in  the  wall,  through  which  he  might  lead 
his  troops  to  the  attack ;  animating  them,  in  this  perilous  mo 
ment,  by  assuring  them  that  the  place  should  be  given  up  to 
plunder,  and  its  inhabitants  made  captives. 

The  breach  being  made,  the  marquis  put  himself  at  the  head 
of  his  troops,  and  entered  sword  in  hand.  A  simultaneous  at 
tack  was  made  by  the  Christians  in  every  part — by  the  ram 
parts,  by  the  gate,  by  the  roofs  and  walls  which  connected  the 
castle  with  the  town.  The  Moors  fought  valiantly  in  their 
streets,  from  their  windows,  and  from  the  tops  of  their  houses. 
They  were  not  equal  to  the  Christians  in  bodily  strength,  foi 
they  were  for  the  most  part  peaceful  men,  of  industrious  call- 


24  THE  CONQUEST  OF  OR  AN  AD  A. 

ings,  aiid  enervated  by  the  frequent  use  of  the  warm  bath ;  but 
they  were  superior  in  number,  and  unconquerable  in  spirit ; 
old  and  young,  strong  and  weak,  fought  with  the  same  des 
peration.  The  Moors  fought  for  property,  for  liberty,  for  life. 
They  fought  at  their  thresholds  and  their  hearths,  with  the 
shrieks  of  their  wives  and  children  ringing  in  their  ears,  and 
they  fought  in  the  hope  that  each  moment  would  bring  aid  from 
Granada.  They  regarded  neither  their  own  wounds  nor  the 
deaths  of  their  companions ;  but  continued  fighting  until  they 
fell,  and  seemed  as  if,  when  they  could  no  longer  contend, 
they  would  block  up  the  thresholds  of  their  beloved  homes 
with  their  mangled  bodies.  The  Christians  fought  for  glory, 
for  revenge,  for  the  holy  faith,  and  for  the  spoil  of  these 
wealthy  infidels.  Success  would  place  a  rich  town  at  their 
mercy ;  failure  would  deliver  them  into  the  hands  of  the  tyrant 
of  Granada. 

The  contest  raged  from  morning  until  night,  when  the  Moors 
began  to  yield.  Retreating  to  a  large  mosque  near  the  walls, 
they  kept  up  so  galling  a  fire  from  it  with  lances,  cross-bows, 
and  arquebuses,  that  for  some  time  the  Christians  dared  not 
approach.  Covering  themselves,  at  length,  with  bucklers  and 
mantelets*  to  protect  them  from  the  deadly  shower,  they  made 
their  way  to  the  mosque,  and  set  fire  to  the  doors.  When  the 
smoke  and  flames  rolled  in  upon  them,  the  Moors  gave  up  all 
as  lost.  Many  rushed  forth  desperately  upon  the  enemy,  'but 
were  immediately  slain ;  the  rest  surrendered  themselves  cap> 
tives. 

The  struggle  was  now  at  an  end ;  the  town  remained  at  the 
mercy  of  the  Christians ;  and  the  inhabitants,  both  male  and 
female,  became  the  slaves  of  those  who  made  them  prisoners. 
Some  few  escaped  by  a  mine  or  subterranean  way,  which  led 
to  the  river,  and  concealed  themselves,  their  wives  and  chil 
dren,  in  caves  and  secret  places ;  but  in  three  or  four  days, 
were  compelled  to  surrender  themselves  through  hunger. 

The  town  was  given  up  to  plunder,  and  the  booty  was  im 
mense.  There  were  found  prodigious  quantities  of  gold  and 
silver,  and  jewels,  and  rich  silks,  and  costly  stuffs  of  all  kinds ; 
together  with  horses  and  beeves,  and  abundance  of  grain  and 
oil,  and  honey,  and  all  other  productions  of  this  fruitful  king 
dom  ;  for  in  Alhama  were  collected  the  royal  rents  and  tributes 


*  Mantelet— a  movable  parapet,  made  of  thick  planks,  to  protect  troops,  when 
advancing  to  sap  or  assault  a  walled  place. 


TEE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  25 

of  the  surrounding  country;  it  was  the  richest  town  in  the 
Moorish  territory,  and,  from  its  great  strength  and  its  peculiar 
situation,  was  called  the  key  to  Granada. 

Great  waste  and  devastation  were  committed  by  the  Spanish 
soldiery;  for,  thinking  it  would  be  impossible  to  keep  posses 
sion  of  the  place,  they  began  to  destroy  whatever  they  could 
not  take  away.  Immense  jars  of  oil  were  broken,  costly  fur 
niture  shattered  to  pieces,  and  magazines  of  grain  broken  open, 
and  their  contents  scattered  to  the  winds.  Many  Christian 
captives,  who  had  been  taken  at  Zahara,  were  found  buried  in 
a  Moorish  dungeon,  and  were  triumphantly  restored  to  light 
and  liberty ;  and  a  renegado  Spaniard,  who  had  often  served  as 
guide  to  the  Moors  in  their  incursions  into  the  Christian  terri 
tories,  was  hanged  on  the  highest  part  of  the  battlements,  for 
the  edification  of  the  army. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

HOW  THE  PEOPLE  OF  GRANADA  WERE  AFFECTED,  ON  HEARING 
OF  THE  CAPTURE  OF  ALHAMA;  AND  HOW  THE  MOORISH  KING 
SALLIED  FORTH  TO  REGAIN  IT. 

A  MOORISH  horseman  had  spurred  across  the  vega,  nor 
reined  his  panting  steed  until  he  alighted  at  the  gate  of  the 
Alhambra.  He  brought  tidings  to  Muley  Aben  Hassan,  of  the 
attack  upon  Alhama. 

"The  Christians,"  said  he,  "are  in  the  land.  They  came 
upon  us,  we  know  not  whence  or  how,  and  scaled  the  walls  of 
the  castle  in  the  night.  There  has  been  dreadful  fighting  and 
carnage  in  its  towers  and  courts ;  and  when  I  spurred  my  steed 
from  the  gate  of  Alhama,  the  castle  was  in  possession  of  the 
unbelievers." 

Muley  Aben  Hassan  felt  for  a  moment  as  if  swift  retribution 
had  come  upon  him  for  the  woes  he  had  inflicted  upon  Zahara. 
Still  he  flattered  himself  that  this  had  only  been  some  tran 
sient  inroad  of  a  party  of  marauders,  intent  upon  plunder ;  and 
that  a  little  succor,  thrown  into  the  town,  would  be  sufficient 
to  expel  them  from  the  castle,  and  drive  them  from  the  land. 
He  ordered  out,  therefore,  a  thousand  of  his  chosen  cavalry, 
and  sent  them  in  all  speed  to  the  assistance  of  Alhama.  They 


26          THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

arrived  before  its  walls,  the  morning  after  its  capture:  the 
Christian  standards  floated  upon  its  towers,  and  a  body  of  cav 
alry  poured  forth  from  its  gates  and  came  wheeling  down  into 
the  plain  to  receive  them. 

The  Moorish  horsemen  turned  the  reins  of  their  steeds,  and 
galloped  back  for  Granada.  They  entered  its  gates  in  tumul 
tuous  confusion,  spreading  terror  and  lamentation  by  their 
tidings.  "Alhama  is  fallen!  Alhama  is  fallen!"  exclaimed 
they;  "the  Christians  garrison  its  walls;  the  key  of  Granada 
is  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy !" 

When  the  people  heard  these  words,  they  remembered  the 
denunciation  of  the  santon.  His  prediction  seemed  still  to 
resound  in  every  ear,  and  its  fulfilment  to  be  at  hand.  Noth 
ing  was  heard  throughout  the  city  but  sighs  and  wailings. 
"  Wo  is  me,  Alhama!"  was  in  every  mouth;  and  this  ejacula 
tion  of  deep  sorrow  and  doleful  foreboding,  came  to  be  the 
burthen  of  a  plaintive  ballad,  which  remains  until  the  pres 
ent  day.* 

Many  aged  men,  who  had  taken  refuge  in  Granada  from 
other  Moorish  dominions  which  had  fallen  into  the  power  of 
the  Christians,  now  groaned  in  despair  at  the  thoughts  that 
war  was  to  follow  them  into  this  last  retreat,  to  lay  waste  this 
pleasant  land,  and  to  bring  trouble  and  sorrow  upon  their 
declining  years.  The  women  were  more  loud  and  vehement 
in  their  grief ;  for  they  beheld  the  evils  impending  over  their 
children,  and  what  can  restrain  the  agony  of  a  mother's  heart? 
Many  of  them  made  their  way  through  the  halls  of  the  Alham- 
bra  into  the  presence  of  the  king,  weeping,  and  wailing,  and 
tearing  their  hair.  ' '  Accursed  be  the  day, "  cried  they,  ' '  that 
thou  hast  lit  the  flame  of  war  in  our  land!  May  the  holy 
Prophet  bear  witness  before  Allah,  that  we  and  our  children 
are  innocent  of  this  act !  Upon  thy  head,  and  upon  the  heads 
of  thy  posterity,  until  the  end  of  the  world,  rest  the  sin  of  the 
desolation  of  Zahara !"  f 

Muley  Aben  Hassan  remained  unmoved,  amidst  all  this 
storm ;  his  heart  was  hardened  (observes  Fray  Antonio  Aga- 
pida)  like  that  of  Pharaoh,  to  the  end  that,  through  his  blind 
violence  and  rage,  he  might  produce  the  deliverance  of  the 
land  from  its  heathen  bondage.  In  fact,  he  was  a  bold  and 

*  The  mournful  little  Spanish  romance  of  Ay  de  mi,  Alhama!  is  supposed  to  be 
of  Moorish  origin,  and  to  embody  the  grief  of  the  people  of  Granada  on  this  occa 
sion. 

t  Garibav.  lib.  40.  c.  29. 


THE   CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  27 

fearless  warrior,  and  trusted  soon  to  make  this  blow  recoil 
upon  the  head  of  the  enemy.  He  had  ascertained  that  the 
captors  of  Alhama  were  but  a  handful :  they  were  in  the  centre 
of  his  dominions,  within  a  short  distance  of  his  capital.  They 
were  deficient  in  munitions  of  war,  and  provisions  for  sustain 
ing  a  siege.  By  a  rapid  movement,  he  might  surround  them 
with  a  powerful  army,  cut  off  all  aid  from  their  countrymen, 
and  entrap  them  in  the  fortress  they  had  taken. 

To  think  was  to  act,  with  Muley  Aben  Hassan ;  but  he  was 
prone  to  act  with  too  much  precipitation.  He  immediately  set 
forth  in  person,  with  three  thousand  horse  and  fifty  thou 
sand  foot,  and  in  his  eagerness  to  arrive  at  the  scene  of  action, 
would  not  wait  to  provide  artillery  and  the  various  engines 
required  in  a  siege.  "The  multitude  of  my  forces/'  said  he, 
confidently,  ' '  will  be  sufficient  to  overwhelm  the  enemy. " 

The  marques  of  Cadiz,  who  thus  held  possession  of  Alhama, 
had  a  chosen  friend  and  faithful  companion  in  arms,  among 
the  most  distinguished  of  the  Christian  chivalry.  This  was 
Don  Alonzo  de  Cordova,  senior  and  lord  of  the  house  of  Agui- 
lar,  and  brother  of  Gonsalvo  of  Cordova,  afterwards  renowned 
as  grand  captain  of  Spain.  As  yet,  Alonzo  de  Aguilar  was  the 
glory  of  his  name  and  race — for  his  brother  was  but  young  in 
arms.  He  was  one  of  the  most  hardy,  valiant,  and  enterpris 
ing  of  the  Spanish  knights,  and  foremost  in  all  service  of  a 
perilous  and  adventurous  nature.  He  had  not  been  at  hand, 
to  accompany  his  friend  Ponce  de  Leon,  marques  of  Cadiz,  in 
his  inroad  into  the  Moorish  territory ;  but  he  hastily  assembled 
a  number  of  retainers,  horse  and  foot,  and  pressed  forward  to 
join  the  enterprise.  Arriving  at  the  river  Yeguas,  he  found 
the  baggage  of  the  army  still  upon  its  banks,  and  took  charge 
of  it  to  carry  it  to  Alhama.  The  marques  of  Cadiz  heard  of 
the  approach  of  his  friend,  whose  march  was  slow  in  conse 
quence  of  being  encumbered  by  the  baggage.  He  was  within 
but  a  few  leagues  of  Alhama,  when  scouts  came  hurrying  into 
the  place,  with  intelligence  that  the  Moorish  king  was  at  hand 
with  a  powerful  army.  The  marques  of  Cadiz  was  filled  with 
alarm  lest  De  Aguilar  should  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy. 
Forgetting  his  own  danger,  and  thinking  only  of  that  of  his 
friend,  he  dispatched  a  well-mounted  messenger  to  ride  full 
speed,  and  warn  him  not  to  approach. 

The  first  determination  of  Alonzo  de  Aguilar,  when  he  heard 
that  the  Moorish  king  was  at  hand,  was  to  take  a  strong  posi 
tion  in  the  mountains,  and  await  his  coming.  The  madness  of 


28  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

an  attempt  with  his  handful  of  men  to  oppose  an  immense 
army,  was  represented  to  him  with  such  force  as  to  induce  him 
to  abandon  the  idea ;  he  then  thought  of  throwing  himself  into 
Alhama,  to  share  the  fortunes  of  his  friend :  but  it  was  now  too 
late.  The  Moor  would  infallibly  intercept  him,  and  he  should 
only  give  the  marques  the  additional  distress  of  beholding  him 
captured  beneath  his  walls.  It  was  even  urged  upon  him  that 
he  had  no  time  for  delay,  if  he  would  consult  his  own  safety, 
which  could  only  be  insured  by  an  immediate  retreat  into  the 
Christian  territory.  This  last  opinion  was  confirmed  by  the 
return  of  scouts,  who  brought  information  that  Muley  Aben 
Hassan  had  received  notice  of  his  movements,  and  was  rapidly 
advancing  in  quest  of  him.  It  was  with  infinite  reluctance 
that  Don  Alonzo  de  Aguilar  yielded  to  these  united  and  power 
ful  reasons.  Proudly  and  sullenly  he  drew  off  his  forces,  laden 
with  the  baggage  of  the  army,  and  made  an  unwilling  retreat 
towards  Antiquera.  Muley  Aben  Hassan  pursued  him  for 
some  distance  through  the  mountains,  but  soon  gave  up  the 
chase  and  turned  with  his  forces  upon  Alhama. 

As  the  army  approached  the  town,  they  beheld  the  fields 
strewn  with  the  dead  bodies  of  their  countrymen,  who  had 
fallen  in  defence  of  the  place,  and  had  been  cast  forth  and  left 
unburied  by  the  Christians.  There  they  lay,  mangled,  and 
exposed  to  every  indignity ;  while  droves  of  half -famished  dogs 
were  preying  upon  them,  and  fighting  and  howling,  over  their 
hideous  repast.*  Furious  at  the  sight,  the  Moors,  in  the  first 
transports  of  their  rage,  attacked  those  ravenous  animals: 
their  next  measure  was  to  vent  their  fury  upon  the  Christians. 
They  rushed  like  madmen  to  the  walls,  applied  scaling-ladders 
in  all  parts,  without  waiting  for  the  necessary  mantelets  and 
other  protections, — thinking,  by  attacking  suddenly  and  at 
various  points,  to  distract  the  enemy,  and  overcome  them  by 
the  force  of  numbers. 

The  marques  of  Cadiz,  with  his  confederate  commanders, 
distributed  themselves  along  the  walls,  to  direct  and  animate 
their  men  in  the  defence.  The  Moors,  in  their  blind  fury,  often 
assailed  the  most  difficult  and  dangerous  places.  Darts, 
stones,  and  all  kinds  of  missiles,  were  hurled  down  upon 
their  defenceless  heads.  As  fast  as  they  mounted  they  were 
cut  down,  or  dashed  from  the  battlements,  their  ladders  over 
turned,  and  all  who  were  on  them  precipitated  headlong  below. 

*  Pulgar.    Cronica. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  29 

Muley  Aben  Hassan  stormed  with  passion  at  the  sight ;  he 
sent  detachment  after  detachment  to  scale  the  walls— but  in 
vain ;  they  were  like  waves  rushing  upon  a  rock,  osly  to  dash 
themselves  to  pieces.  The  Moors  lay  in  heaps  beneath  the 
wall,  and  among  them  many  of  the  bravest  cavaliers  of  Gra 
nada,  The  Christians,  also,  sallied  frequently  from  the  gates, 
and  made  great  havoc  in  the  irregular  multitude  of  assail 
ants. 

On  one  of  these  occasions,  the  party  was  commanded  by  Don 
Juan  de  Vera,  the  same  pious  and  high-handed  knight  who  had 
borne  the  embassy  to  Muley  Aben  Hassan,  demanding  tribute. 
As  this  doughty  cavalier,  after  a  career  of  carnage,  was  slowly 
retreating  to  the  gate,  he  heard  a  voice  loudly  calling  after 
him,  in  furious  accents.  "Turn  back!  turn  back!"  cried  the 
voice ;  ' '  thou  who  canst  insult  in  hall,  prove  that  thou  canst 
combat  in  the  field."  Don  Juan  de  Vera  turned,  and  beheld 
the  same  Abencerrage  whom  he  had  struck  with  his  sword  in 
the  Alhambra,  for  scoffing  at  the  immaculate  conception  of 
the  blessed  virgin.  All  his  holy  zeal  and  pious  indignation  re 
kindled  at  the  sight;  he  put  lance  in  rest,  and  spurred  his 
steed  to  finish  this  doctrinal  dispute.  Don  Juan  de  Vera  was 
a  potent  and  irresistible  arguer  with  his  weapon ;  and  he  was 
aided  (says  Fray  Antonio  Agapida)  by  the  peculiar  virtue  of 
his  cause.  At  the  very  first  encounter,  his  lance  entered  the 
mouth  of  the  Moor,  and  hurled  him  to  the  earth,  never  more 
to  utter  word  or  breath.  Thus  (continues  the  worthy  friar) 
did  this  scoffing  infidel  receive  a  well-merited  punishment, 
through  the  very  organ  with  which  he  had  offended ;  and  thus 
was  the  immaculate  conception  miraculously  vindicated  from 
his  foul  aspersions. 

The  vigorous  and  successful  defence  of  the  Christians,  now 
made  Muley  Aben  Hassan  sensible  of  his  error  in  hurrying 
from  Granada  without  the  proper  engines  for  a  sie.^e.  Desti 
tute  of  all  means  to  batter  the  fortifications,  the  tc  ,vn  re 
mained  uninjured,  defying  the  mighty  army  which  raged  and 
roamed  before  it.  Incensed  at  being  thus  foiled,  Muley  Aben 
Hassan  gave  orders  to  undermine  the  walls.  The  Moors  ad 
vanced  with  shouts  to  the  attempt.  They  were  received  with 
a  deadly  fire  from  the  ramparts,  which  drove  them  from  their 
works.  Repeatedly  were  they  repulsed,  and  repeatedly  did 
they  return  to  the  charge.  The  Christians  not  merely  galled 
them  from  the  battlements,  but  issued  forth  and  cut  them 
down  in  the  excavations  they  were  attempting  to  form.  The 


30  THE  COM  QUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

contest  lasted  throughout  a  whole  day,  and  by  evening  tvro 
thousand  Moors  were  either  killed  or  wounded. 

Muley  Aben  Hassan  now  abandoned  all  hope  of  carrying  the 
place  by  assault,  and  attempted  to  distress  it  into  terms  by 
turning  the  channel  of  the  river  which  runs  by  its  walls.  Oil 
this  stream  the  inhabitants  depended  for  their  supply  of  water, 
the  place  being  destitute  of  fountains  and  cisterns ;  from  which 
circumstance  it  is  called  Alhama  la  seca,  or  "the  dry." 

A  desperate  conflict  ensued  on  the  banks  of  the  river,  the 
Moors  endeavoring  to  plant  palisades  in  its  bed  to  divert 
the  stream,  and  the  Christians  striving  to  prevent  them.  The 
Spanish  commanders  exposed  themselves  to  the  utmost  danger 
to  animate  their  men,  who  were  repeatedly  driven  back  into 
the  town.  The  marques  of  Cadiz  was  often  up  to  his  knees  in 
the  stream,  fighting  hand  to  hand  with  the  Moors.  The  water 
ran  red  with  blood,  and  was  encumbered  with  dead  bodies. 
At  length,  the  overwhelming  numbers  of  the  Moors  gave  them 
the  advantage,  and  they  succeeded  in  diverting  the  greater 
part  of  the  water.  The  Christians  had  to  struggle  severely,  to 
supply  themselves  from  the  feeble  rill  which  remained.  They 
sallied  to  the  river  by  a  subterraneous  passage ;  but  the  Moor 
ish  cross-bowmen  stationed  themselves  on  the  opposite  bank, 
keeping  up  a  heavy  fire  upon  the  Christians,  whenever  they 
attempted  to  fill  their  vessels  from  the  scanty  and  turbid 
stream.  One  party  of  the  Christians  had,  therefore,  to  fight, 
while  another  drew  water.  At  all  hours  of  the  day  and  night, 
this  deadly  strife  was  maintained,  until  it  seemed  as  if  every 
drop  of  water  were  purchased  with  a  drop  of  blood. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  suffering  in  the  town  became  intense. 
None  but  the  soldiery  and  their  horses  were  allowed  the  pre 
cious  beverage  so  dearly  earned,  and  even  that  in  quantities 
that  only  tantalized  their  wants.  The  wounded,  who  could  not 
sally  to  procure  it,  were  almost  destitute ;  while  the  unhappy 
prisoners,  shut  up  in  the  mosques,  were  reduced  to  frightful 
extremities.  Many  perished  raving  mad,  fancying  themselves 
swimming  in  boundless  seas,  yet  unable  to  assuage  their 
thirst.  Many  of  the  soldiers  lay  parched  and  panting  along 
the  battlements,  no  longer  able  to  draw  a  bowstring  or  hurl 
a  stone;  while  above  five  thousand  Moors,  stationed  upon 
a  rocky  height  which  overlooked  part  of  the  town,  kept  up 
a  galling  fire  into  it  with  slings  and  cross-bows;  so  that  the 
marques  of  Cadiz  was  obliged  to  heighten  the  battlements, 
by  using  the  doors  from  the  private  dwellings. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  31 

The  Christian  cavaliers,  exposed  to  this  extreme  peril,  and 
in  imminent  danger  of  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy, 
dispatched  fleet  messengers  to  Seville  and  Cordova,  entreating 
the  chivalry  of  Andalusia  to  hasten  to  their  aid.  They  sent 
likewise,  imploring  assistance  from  the  king  and  queen,  who  at 
that  time  held  their  court  in  Medina  del  Campo.  In  the  midst 
of  their  distress,  a  tank,  or  cistern,  of  water,  was  fortunately 
discovered  in  the  city,  which  gave  temporary  relief  to  their 
Bufferings. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

HOW    THE    DUKE    OF    MEDINA     SIDONIA,    AND    THE   CHIVALRY  OF 
ANDALUSIA,    HASTENED  TO  THE  RELIEF   OF  ALHAMA. 

THE  perilous  situation  of  the  Christian  cavaliers,  pent  up 
and  beleaguered  within  the  walls  of  Alhama,  'pread  terror 
among  their  friends,  and  anxiety  throughout  all  '.ndalusia. 
Nothing,  however,  could  equal  the  anguish  of  the  marchioness 
of  Cadiz,  the  wife  of  the  gallant  Roderigo  Ponce  de  Leon.  Tn 
her  deep  distress,  she  looked  round  for  some  powerful  ^ble, 
who  had  the  means  of  rousing  the  country  to  the  assistance  of 
her  husband.  No  one  appeared  more  competent  for  the  ,  r- 
pose  than  Don  Juan  de  Guzman,  the  duke  of  Medina  Sidonia. 
He  was  one  of  the  most  wealthy  and  puissant  grandees 
Spain ;  his  possessions  extended  over  some  of  the  most  f  ^rtile 
parts  of  Andalusia,  embracing  towns,  and  seaports,  and  nu 
merous  villages.  Here  he  reigned  in  feudal  state,  like  r,  petty 
sovereign,  and  could  at  any  time  bring  into  the  field  an  im 
mense  force  of  vassals  and  retainers. 

The  duke  of  Medina  Sidonia  and  the  marques  of  Cadiz, 
however,  were  at  this  time  deadly  foes.  An  hereditary  feud 
existed  between  them,  which  had  often  arisen  to  bloodshed 
and  open  war ;  for  as  yet  the  fierce  contests  between  the  proud 
and  puissant  Spanish  nobles  had  not  been  completely  quelled 
by  the  power  of  the  crown,  and  in  this  respect  they  exerted  a 
right  of  sovereignty,  in  leading  their  vassals  against  each  other 
in  open  field. 

The  duke  of  Medina  Sidonia  would  have  appeared,  to  many, 
the  very  last  person  to  whom  to  apply  for  aid  of  the  marques 
of  Cadiz ;  but  the  marchioness  judged  of  him  by  the  standard 


32         THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

of  her  own  high  and  generous  mind.  She  knew  him  to  be  a 
gallant  and  courteous  knight,  and  had  already  experienced  the 
magnanimity  of  his  spirit,  having  been  relieved  by  him  when 
besieged  by  the  Moors  in  her  husband's  fortress  of  Arcos.  To 
the  duke,  therefore,  she  applied  in  this  moment  of  sudden 
calamity,  imploring  him  to  furnish  succor  to  her  husband. 
The  event  showed  how  well  noble  spirits  understand  each 
other.  No  sooner  did  the  duke  receive  this  appeal  from  the 
wife  of  his  enemy,  than  he  generously  forgot  all  feeling  of 
animosity,  and  determined  to  go  in  person  to  his  succor.  He 
immediately  despatched  a  courteous  letter  to  the  marchioness, 
assuring  her  that  in  consideration  of  the  request  of  so  honor 
able  and  estimable  a  lady,  and  to  rescue  from  peril  so  valiant 
a  cavalier  as  her  husband,  whose  loss  would  be  great,  not  only 
to  Spain,  but  to  all  Christendom,  he  would  forego  the  recollec 
tion  of  all  past  grievances,  and  hasten  to  his  relief  with  all  the 
forces  he  could  raise. 

The  duke  wrote  at  the  same  time  to  the  alcaydes  of  his  towns 
and  fortresses,  ordering  them  to  join  him  forthwith  at  Seville, 
with  all  the  forces  they  could  spare  from  their  garrisons.  He 
called  on  all  the  chivalry  of  Andalusia  to  make  a  common 
cause  in  the  rescue  of  those  Christian  cavaliers,  and  he  offered 
large  pay  to  all  volunteers  who  would  resort  to  him  with 
horses,  armor,  and  provisions.  Thus  all  who  could  be  incited 
by  honor,  religion,  patriotism,  or  thirst  of  gain,  were  induced 
to  hasten  to  his  standard,  and  he  took  the  field  with  an  army 
of  five  thousand  horse  and  fifty  thousand  foot.  *  Many  cava 
liers  of  distinguished  name  accompanied  him  in  this  generous 
enterprise.  Among  these  was  the  redoubtable  Alonzo  de 
Aguilar,  the  chosen  friend  of  the  marques  of  Cadiz,  and  with 
him  his  younger  brother,  Gonsalvo  Fernandez  de  Cordova, 
afterwards  renowned  as  the  grand  captain;  Don  Roderigo 
Giron,  also,  Master  of  the  order  of  Calatrava,  together  with 
Martin  Alonzo  de  Montemayor,  and  the  marques  De  Villena, 
esteemed  the  best  lance  in  Spain.  It  was  a  gallant  and 
splendid  army,  comprising  the  flower  of  Spanish  chivalry,  and 
poured  forth  in  brilliant  array  from  the  gates  of  Seville,  bear 
ing  the  great  standard  of  that  ancient  and  renowned  city. 

Ferdinand  and  Isabella  were  at  Medina  del  Campo,  when 
tidings  came  of  the  capture  of  Alhama.  The  king  was  at  mass 
when  he  received  the  news,  and  ordered  te  deum  to  be  chanted 

*  Cronica  de  los  Duques  de  Medina  Sidonia,  por  Pedro  de  Medina.    MS. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  33 

for  this  signal  triumph  of  the  holy  faith.  When  the  first  flush 
of  triumph  had  subsided,  and  the  king  learnt  the  imminent 
peril  of  the  valorous  Ponce  de  Leon  and  his  companions,  and 
the  great  danger  that  this  strong-hold  might  again  be  wrested 
from  their  grasp,  he  resolved  to  hurry  in  person  to  the  scene 
of  action.  So  pressing  appeared  to  him  the  emergency,  that 
he  barely  gave  himself  time  to  take  a  hasty  repast  while  horses 
were  providing,  and  then  departed  at  furious  speed  for  Anda 
lusia,  leaving  a  request  for  the  queen  to  follow  him.*  He  was 
attended  by  Don  Beltram  de  la  Cueva,  duke  of  Albuquerque, 
Don  Inigo  Lopez  de  Mendoza,  count  of  Tendilla,  and  Don  Pedro 
Mauriques,  count  of  Treviiio,  with  a  few  more  cavaliers  of 
prowess  and  distinction.  He  travelled  by  forced  journeys, 
frequently  changing  his  jaded  horses,  being  eager  to  arrive  in 
time  to  take  command  of  the  Andalusian  chivalry.  When  he 
arrived  within  five  leagues  of  Cordova,  the  duke  of  Albu 
querque  remonstrated  with  him  upon  entering,  with  such 
incasutious  haste,  into  the  enemies'  country.  He  represented 
to  him  that  there  were  troops  enough  assembled  to  succor 
Albania,  and  that  it  was  not  for  him  to  venture  his  royal 
person  in  doing  what  could  be  done  by  his  subjects ;  especially 
as  he  had  such  valiant  and  experienced  captains  to  act  for 
him.  "Besides,  sire,"  added  the  duke,  " your  majesty  should 
bethink  you  that  the  troops  about  to  take  the  field  are  mere 
men  of  Andalusia,  whereas  your  illustrious  predecessors  never 
made  an  inroad  into  the  territory  of  the  Moors,  without  being 
accompanied  by  a  powerful  force  of  the  staunch  and  iron  war 
riors  of  old  Castile." 

"Duke,"  replied  the  king,  "your  counsel  might  have  been 
good,  had  I  not  departed  from  Medina  with  the  avowed  deter 
mination  of  succoring  these  cavaliers  in  person.  I  am  now 
near  the  end  of  my  journey,  and  it  would  be  beneath  my 
dignity  to  change  my  intention,  before  even  I  had  met  with  an 
impediment.  I  shall  take  the  troops  of  this  country  who  are 
assembled,  without  waiting  for  those  of  Castile,  and  with  the 
aid  of  God,  shall  prosecute  my  journey."  t 

As  king  Ferdinand  approached  Cordova,  the  principal  in 
habitants  came  forth  to  receive  him.  Learning,  however, 
that  the  duke  of  Medina  Sidonia  was  already  on  the  march, 
and  pressing  forward  into  the  territory  of  the  Moors,  the  king 

*  Illescas.    Hist.  Pontifical. 
t  Pulgar.    Cronica,  p.  3,  c.  3, 


34  TUE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

was  all  on  fire  to  overtake  him,  and  to  lead  in  person  the 
succor  to  Albania.  Without  entering  Cordova,  therefore,  he 
exchanged  his  weary  horses  for  those  of  the  inhabitants  who 
had  come  forth  to  meet  him,  and  pressed  forward  for  the 
army.  He  dispatched  fleet  couriers  in  advance,  requesting  the 
duke  of  Medina  Sidonia  to  await  his  coming,  that  he  might 
take  command  of  the  forces. 

Neither  the  duke  nor  his  companions  in  arms,  however,  felt 
inclined  to  pause  in  their  generous  expedition,  and  gratify  the 
inclination  of  the  king.  They  sent  back  missives,  representing 
that  they  were  far  within  the  enemies'  frontier,  and  it  was 
dangerous  either  to  pause  or  turn  back.  They  had  likewise 
received  pressing  entreaties  from  the  besieged  to  hasten  their 
speed,  setting  forth  their  great  sufferings,  and  their  hourly 
peril  of  being  overwhelmed  by  the  enemy. 

The  king  was  at  Ponton  del  Maestre,  when  he  received  these 
missives.  So  inflamed  was  he  with  zeal  for  the  success  of  this 
enterprise,  that  he  would  have  penetrated  into  the  kingdom  of 
Granada  with  the  handful  of  cavaliers  who  accompanied  him, 
but  tney  represented  the  rashness  of  such  a  journey,  through 
the  mountainous  defiles  of  a  hostile  country,  thickly  beset  with 
towns  and  castles.  With  some  difficulty,  therefore,  he  was 
dissuaded  from  his  inclination,  and  prevailed  upon  to  await 
tidings  from  the  army,  in  the  frontier  city  of  Antiquera. 


CHAPTEE  VIII. 

SEQUEL  OF  THE  EVENTS  AT  ALHAMA. 

WHILE  all  Andalusia  was  thus  in  arms,  and  pouring  its 
chivalry  through  the  mountain  passes  of  the  Moorish  frontier, 
the  garrison  of  Alhama  was  reduced  to  great  extremity,  and  in 
danger  of  sinking  under  its  sufferings  before  the  promised 
succor  could  arrive.  The  intolerable  thirst  that  prevailed  in 
consequence  of  the  scarcity  of  water,  the  incessant  watch  that 
had  to  be  maintained  over  the  vast  force  of  enemies  without, 
and  the  great  number  of  prisoners  within,  and  the  wounds 
which  almost  every  soldier  had  received  in  the  incessant 
skirmishes  and  assaults,  had  worn  grievously  both  flesh  arid 
spirit.  The  noble  Ponce  de  Leon,  marques  of  Cadiz,  still  ani 
mated  the  soldiery,  however,  by  word  and  example,  sharing- 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  35 

every  hardship  and  being  foremost  in  every  danger;  exem 
plifying  that  a  good  commander  is  the  vital  spirit  of  an  army. 

When  Muley  Aben  Hassan  heard  of  the  vast  force  that 
was  approaching  under  the  command  of  the  duke  o*  Medina 
Sidonia,  and  that  Ferdinand  was  coming  in  person  with 
additional  troops,  he  perceived  that  no  time  was  to  be  lost : 
Alhama  must  be  carried  by  one  powerful  attack,  or  abandoned 
entirely  to  the  Christians. 

A  number  of  Moorish  cavaliers,  some  of  the  bravest  youth  of 
Granada,  knowing  the  wishes  of  the  king,  proposed  to  under 
take  a  desperate  enterprise,  which,  if  successful,  must  put 
Alhama  in  his  power.  Early  one  morning,  when  it  was 
scarcely  the  gray  of  the  dawn,  about  the  time  of  changing  the 
watch,  these  cavaliers  approached  the  town,  at  a  place  con 
sidered  inaccessible,  from  the  steepness  of  the  rocks  on  which 
the  wall  was  founded;  which,  it  was  supposed,  elevated  the 
battlements  beyond  the  reach  of  the  longest  scaling-ladder. 
The  Moorish  knights,  aided  by  a  number  of  the  strongest  and 
most  active  escaladors,  mounted  these  rocks,  and  applied  the 
ladders,  without  being  discovered;  for,  to  divert  attention 
from  them,  Muley  Aben  Hassan  made  a  false  attack  upon  the 
town  in  another  quarter. 

The  scaling  party  mounted  with  difficulty,  and  in  small 
numbers ;  the  sentinel  was  killed  at  his  post,  and  seventy  of 
the  Moors  made  their  way  into  the  streets  before  an  alarm  was 
given.  The  guards  rushed  to  the  walls,  to  stop  the  hostile 
throng  that  was  still  pouring  in.  A  sharp  conflict,  hand  to 
hand  and  man  to  man,  took  place  on  the  battlements,  and 
many  on  both  sides  fell.  The  Moors,  whether  wounded  or 
slain,  were  thrown  headlong  without  the  walls;  the  scaling- 
ladders  were  overturned,  and  those  who  were  mounting  were 
dashed  upon  the  rocks,  and  from  thence  tumbled  upon  the 
plain.  Thus,  in  a  little  while,  the  ramparts  were  cleared  by 
Christian  prowess,  led  on  by  that  valiant  knight  Don  Alonzo 
Ponce,  the  uncle,  and  that  brave  esquire  Pedro  Pineda,  nephew 
of  the  marques  of  Cadiz. 

The  walls  being  cleared,  these  two  kindred  cavaliers  now 
hastened  with  their  forces  in  pursuit  of  the  seventy  Moors 
who  had  gained  an  entrance  into  the  town.  The  main  party 
of  the  garrison  being  engaged  at  a  distance  resisting  the 
feigned  attack  of  the  Moorish  king,  this  fierce  band  of  infidels 
had  ranged  the  streets  almost  without  opposition,  and  were 
making  their  v,v;y  {,<>  t:u>  :-£iU'.i  to  throw  them  open  to  the 


36  THE  CONQUEST  OP  GRANADA. 

army.*  They  were  chosen  men  from  among  the  Moorish 
forces,  several  of  them  gallant  knights  of  the  proudest  families 
of  Granada.  Their  footsteps  through  the  city  were  in  a  man 
ner  printed  in  blood,  and  they  were  tracked  by  the  bodies  of 
those  they  had  killed  and  wounded.  They  had  attained  the 
gate;  most  of  the  guard  had  fallen  beneath  their  scimitars:  a 
moment  more,  and  Alhama  would  have  been  thrown  open  to 
the  enemy. 

Just  at  this  juncture,  Don  Alonzo  Ponce  and  Pedro  de 
Pineda  reached  the  spot  with  their  forces.  The  Moors  had  the 
enemy  hi  front  and  rear ;  they  placed  themselves  back  to  back, 
with  their  banner  in  the  centre.  In  this  way  they  fought 
with  desperate  and  deadly  determination,  making  a  rampart 
around  them  with  the  slain.  More  Christian  troops  arrived, 
and  hemmed  them  in ;  but  still  they  fought,  without  asking  for 
quarter.  As  their  numbers  decreased,  they  serried  their  circle 
still  closer,  defending  their  banner  from  assault ;  and  the  last 
Moor  died  at  his  post,  grasping  the  standard  of  the  Prophet. 
This  standard  was  displayed  from  the  walls,  and  the  turbaned 
heads  of  the  Moors  were  thrown  down  to  the  besiegers.! 

Muley  Aben  Hassan  tore  his  beard  with  rage  at  the  failure 
of  this  attempt,  and  at  the  death  of  so  many  of  his  chosen 
cavaliers.  He  saw  that  all  further  effort  was  in  vain;  his 
scouts  brought  word  that  they  had  seen  from  the  heights,  the 
long  columns  and  flaunting  banners  of  the  Christian  army 
approaching  through  the  mountains.  To  linger  would  be  to 
place  himself  between  two  bodies  of  the  enemy.  Breaking  up 
his  camp,  therefore,  in  all  haste,  he  gave  up  the  siege  of 
Alhama,  and  hastened  back  to  Granada ;  and  the  last  clash  of 
his  cymbals  scarce  died  upon  the  ear  from  the  distant  hills, 
bef oro  the  standard  of  the  duke  of  Medina  Sidonia  was  seen 
emerging  in  another  direction  from  the  denies  of  the  moun 
tains. 

When  the  Christians  in  Alhama  beheld  their  enemies  retreat 
ing  on  one  side  and  their  friends  advancing  on  the  other,  they 
uttered  shouts  of  joy  and  hymns  of  thanksgiving,  for  it  was  as 
a  sudden  relief  from  present  death.  Harassed  by  several 
weeks  of  incessant  vigil  and  fighting,  suffering  from  scarcity 
of  provisions  and  almost  continual  thirst,  they  resembled 

*  Zurita,  lib.  20,  c.  43. 

t  Pedro  de  Pineda  received  the  honor  of  knighthood  from  the  hand  of  king  Fer 
dinand,  for  his  valor  on  this  occasion;  (Alonzo  Ponce  was  already  knight.)  See 
Zuuiga,  Aunales  of  Seville,  lib.  12.  an,  1482. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  37 

skeletons  rather  than  living  men.  It  was  a  noble  and  gracious 
sight  to  behold  the  meeting  of  those  two  ancient  foes,  the  duke 
of  Medina  Sidonia  and  the  marques  of  Cadiz.  When  the 
marques  beheld  his  magnanimous  deliverer  approaching,  he 
melted  into  tears ;  all  past  animosities  only  gave  the  greater 
poignancy  to  present  feelings  of  gratitude  and  admiration; 
they  clasped  each  other  in  their  arms,  and.  from  that  time  for 
ward  were  true  and  cordial  friends. 

While  this  generous  scene  took  place  between  the  comman 
ders,  a  sordid  contest  arose  amorg  their  troops.  The  soldiers 
who  had  come  to  the  rescue  claimed  a  portion  of  the  spoils  of 
Alhama;  and  so  violent  was  the  lispute,  that  both  parties 
seized  their  arms.  The  duke  of  Medina  Sidonia  interfered, 
and  settled  the  question  with  his  characteristic  magnanimity. 
He  declared  that  the  spoil  belonged  to  those  who  had  captured 
the  city.  "We  have  taken  the  field,"  said  he,  ''only  for 
honor,  for  religion,  and  for  the  rescue  of  our  countrymen  and 
fellow-Christians ;  and  the  success  of  our  enterprise  is  a  suffi 
cient  and  a  glorious  reward.  If  we  desire  booty,  there  are 
sufficient  Moorish  cities  yet  to  be  taken,  to  enrich  us  all." 
The  soldiers  were  convinced  oy  the  frank  and  chivalrous 
reasoning  of  the  duke ;  they  replied  to  his  speech  by  acclama 
tions,  and  the  transient  broil  was  happily  appeased. 

The  marchioness  of  Cadiz,  with  the  forethought  of  a  loving 
wife,  had  dispatched  her  major  domo  with  the  army  with  a 
large  supply  of  provisions.  Tables  were  immediately  spread 
beneath  the  tents,  where  the  marques  gave  a  banquet  to  the 
duke  and  the  cavaliers  who  had  accompanied  him,  and  nothing 
but  hilarity  prevailed  in  this  late  scene  of  suffering  and  death. 

A  garrison  of  fresh  troops  was  left  in  Alhama;  and  the 
veterans  who  had  so  valiantly  captured  and  maintained  it, 
returned  to  their  homes,  burthened  with  precious  booty.  The 
marques  and  duke,  with  their  confederate  cavaliers,  repaired 
to  Antiquera,  where  they  were  received  with  great  distinction 
by  the  king,  who  honored  the  marques  of  Cadiz  with  signal 
marks  of  favor.  The  duke  then  accompanied  his  late  enemy, 
but.  now  most  zealous  and  grateful  friend,  the  marques  uf 
Cadiz,  to  his  town  of  Marchena,  where  he  received  the  reward 
of  his  generous  conduct,  in  the  thanks  and  blessings  of  the 
marchioness.  The  marques  celebrated  a  sumptuous  feast,  in 
honor  of  his  guest ;  for  a  day  and  night,  his  palace  was  thrown 
open,  and  was  the  scene  of  continual  revel  and  festivity. 
When  the  duke  departed  for  his  estates  at  St.  Lucar,  the 


38         THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

marques  attended  him  for  some  distance  on  his  journey ;  and 
when  they  separated,  it  was  as  the  parting  scene  of  brothers. 
Such  was  the  noble  spectacle  exhibited  to  the  chivalry  of 
Spain,  by  these  two  illustrious  rivals.  Each  reaped  universal 
renown  from  the  part  he  had  performed  in  the  campaign ;  the 
marques,  from  having  surprised  and  captured  one  of  the  most 
important  and  formidable  fortresses  of  the  kingdom  of  Grana 
da  ;  and  the  duke,  from  having  subdued  his  deadliest  foe,  by  a 
great  act  of  magnanimity. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

EVENTS  AT  GRANADA,    AND  RISE   OF  THE  MOORISH  KING  BOABDIL 

EL  CHICO. 

THE  Moorish  king,  Aben  Hassan,  returned,  baffled  and  dis 
appointed,  from  before  the  walls  of  Alhama,  and  was  received 
with  groans  and  smothered  execrations  by  the  people  of  Gra 
nada.  The  prediction  of  the  santon  was  in  every  mouth,  and 
appeared  to  be  rapidly  fulfilling ;  for  the  enemy  was  already 
strongly  fortified  in  Alhama,  in  the  very  heart  of  the  kingdom. 
The  disaffection,  which  broke  out  in  murmurs  among  the  com 
mon  people,  fermented  more  secretly  and  dangerously  among 
the  nobles.  Muley  Aben  Hassan  was  of  a  fierce  and  cruel 
nature;  his  reign  had  been  marked  with  tyranny  and  blood 
shed,  and  many  chiefs  of  the  family  of  the  Abencerrages,  the 
noblest  lineage  among  the  Moors,  had  fallen  victims  to  his 
policy  or  vengeance.  A  deep  plot  was  now  formed,  to  put  an 
end  to  his  oppressions,  and  dispossess  him  of  the  throne.  The 
situation  of  the  royal  household  favored  the  conspiracy. 

Muley  Aben  Hassan,  though  cruel,  was  uxorious ;  that  is  to 
say,  he  had  many  wives,  and  was  prone  to  be  managed  by  them 
by  turns.  He  had  two  queens  in  particular,  whom  he  had 
chosen  from  affection.  One,  named  Ayxa,  was  a  Moorish 
female ;  she  was  likewise  termed  in  Arabic,  La  Horra,  or  the 
chaste,  from  the  spotless  purity  of  her  character.  While  yet 
in  the  prime  of  her  beauty,  she  bore  a  son  to  Aben  Hassan,  the 
expected  heir  to  his  throne.  The  name  of  this  prince  was 
Mahomet  Abdalla,  or,  as  he  has  more  generally  been  termed 
among  historians,  Boabdil.  At  his  birth,  the  astrologers, 
according  to  custom,  cast  his  horoscope :  they  were  seized  with 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  39 

fear  and  trembling,  when  they  beheld  the  fatal  portents  re 
vealed  to  their  science.  ' '  Allah  Achbar !  God  is  great !"  exclaimed 
they ;  "he  alone  controls  the  fate  of  empires.  It  is  written  in 
the  heavens  that  this  prince  shall  sit  upon  the  throne  of 
Granada,  but  that  the  downfall  of  the  kingdom  shall  be  accom 
plished  during  his  reign."  From  this  time,  the  prince  was 
ever  regarded  with  aversion  by  his  father ;  and  the  series  of 
persecutions  which  he  suffered,  and  the  dark  prediction  which 
hung  over  him  from  his  infancy,  procured  him  the  surname 
of  El  Zogoybi,  or  "the  unfortunate."  He  is  more  commonly 
known  by  the  appellation  of  El  Chico  (the  younger),  to  distin 
guish  him  from  an  usurping  uncle. 

The  other  favorite  queen  of  Aben  Hassan  was  named  Fatima, 
to  which  the  Moors  added  the  appellation  of  La  Zoraya,  or  the 
light  of  dawn,  from  her  effulgent  beauty.  She  was  a  Christian 
by  birth,  the  daughter  of  the  commander  Sancho  Ximenes  de 
Solis,  and  had  been  taken  captive  in  her  tender  youth.*  The 
king,  who  was  well  stricken  in  years  at  the  time,  became 
enamored  of  the  blooming  Christian  maid;  he  made  her  his 
sultana,  and,  like  most  old  men  who  marry  in  their  dotage, 
resigned  himself  to  her  management.  Zoraya  became  the 
mother  of  two  princes,  and  her  anxiety  for  their  advancement 
seemed  to  extinguish  every  other  natural  feeling  in  her  breast. 
She  was  as  ambitious  as  she  was  beautiful,  and  her  ruling 
desire  became  to  see  one  of  her  sons  seated  upon  the  throne  of 
Granada.  For  this  purpose,  she  made  use  of  all  her  arts,  and 
of  the  complete  ascendancy  she  had  over  the  mind  of  her  cruel 
husband,  to  undermine  his  other  children  in  his  affections,  and 
to  fill  him  with  jealousies  of  their  designs.  Muley  Aben  Has 
san  was  so  wrought  upon  by  her  machinations,  that  he  publicly 
put  several  of  his  sons  to  death,  at  the  celebrated  fountain  of 
Lions,  in  the  court  of  the  Alhambra,— a  place  signalized  in 
Moorish  history  as  the  scene  of  many  sanguinary  deeds. 

The  next  measure  of  Zoraya,  was  against  her  rival  sultana, 
the  virtuous  Ayxa.  She  was  past  the  bloom  of  her  beauty,  and 
had  ceased  to  be  attractive  in  the  eyes  of  her  husband.  He 
was  easily  persuaded  to  repudiate  her,  and  to  confine  her  and 
her  son  in  the  tower  of  Cimares,  one  of  the  principal  towers  of 
the  Alhambra.  As  Boabdil  increased  in  years,  Zoraya  beheld 
in  him  a  formidable  obstacle  to  the  pretensions  of  her  sons ; 
for  he  was  universally  considered  heir-apparent  to  the  throne. 

*  Salazar.    Cronica  del  Gran  Cardinal,  cap.  71. 


40  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GttANADA. 

The  jealousies,  suspicions,  and  alarms  of  his  tiger-hearted 
father,  were  again  excited ;  he  was  reminded,  too,  of  the  pre 
diction  that  fixed  the  ruin  of  the  kingdom  during  the  reign  of 
this  prince.  Muley  Aben  Hassan  impiously  set  the  stars  at 
defiance :  ' '  The  sword  of  the  executioner, "  said  he,  * '  shall  prove 
the  falsehood  of  these  lying  horoscopes,  and  shall  silence  the 
ambition  of  Boabdil,  as  it  has  the  presumption  of  his  brothers." 
The  sultana  Ayxa  was  secretly  apprised  of  the  cruel  design 
of  the  old  monarch.  She  was  a  woman  of  talents  and  courage, 
and,  by  means  of  her  female  attendants,  concerted  a  plan  for 
the  escape  of  her  son.  A  faithful  servant  was  instructed  to 
wait  below  the  Alhambra,  in  the  dead  of  the  night,  on  the  banks 
of  the  river  Darro,  with  a  fleet  Arabian  courser.  The  sultana, 
when  the  castle  was  in  a  state  of  deep  repose,  tied  together  the 
shawls  and  scarfs  of  herself  and  her  female  attendants,  and 
lowered  the  youthful  prince  from  the  tower  of  Cimares.*  He 
made  his  way  in  safety  down  the  steep  rocky  hill  to  the  banks  of 
the  Darro,  and,  throwing  himself  on  the  Arabian  courser,  was 
thus  spirited  off  to  the  city  of  Guadix  in  the  Alpuxarres.  Here 
he  lay  for  some  time  concealed,  until,  gaining  adherents,  he 
fortified  himself  in  the  place,  and  set  the  machinations  of  his 
tyrant  father  at  defiance.  Such  was  the  state  of  affairs  in  the 
royal  household  of  Granada,  when  Muley  Aben  Hassan  re 
turned  foiled  from  nis  expedition  against  Alhama.  The  faction, 
which  had  secretly  formed  among  the  nobles,  determined  to 
depose  the  old  king  Aben  Hassan,  and  to  elevate  his  son  Boabdil 
to  the  throne.  They  concerted  their  measures  with  the  latter, 
and  an  opportunity  soon  presented  to  put  them  in  practice. 
Muley  Aben  Hassan  had  a  royal  country  palace  called  Alix- 
ares,  in  the  vicinity  of  Granada,  to  which  he  resorted  occa 
sionally  to  recreate  his  mind,  during  this  time  of  perplexity. 
He  had  been  passing  one  day  among  its  bowers,  when,  on 
returning  to  the  capital,  he  found  the  gates  closed  against  him, 
and  his  son  Mohammed  Abdalla,  otherwise  called  Boabdil, 
proclaimed  king.  "Allah  Achbar!  God  is  great!"  exclaimed 
old  Muley  Aben  Hassan ;  "  it  is  in  vain  to  contend  against  what 
is  written  in  the  book  of  fate.  It  was  predestined,  that  my  son 
should  sit  upon  the  throne  —Allah  f oref end  the  rest  of  the  pre 
diction!"  The  old  monarch  knew  the  inflammable  nature  of 
the  Moors,  and  that  it  was  useless  to  attempt  to  check  any 
sudden  blaze  of  popular  passion.  "A  little  while,"  said  he, 

*  Salazar.    Cronica  del  Gran  Cardinal,  cap.  71 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  41 

"and  this  rash  flame  will  burn  itself  out,  and  the  people  when 
cool  will  listen  to  reason."  So  he  turned  his  steed  from  the 
gate,  and  repaired  to  the  city  of  Baza,  where  he  was  received 
with  great  demonstrations  of  loyalty.  He  was  not  a  man  to 
give  up  his  throne  without  a  struggle.  A  large  part  of  the 
kingdom  still  remained  faithful  to  him;  he  trusted  that  the 
conspiracy  in  the  capital  was  but  transient  and  partial,  and 
that  by  suddenly  making  his  appearance  in  its  streets,  at  the 
head  of  a  moderate  force,  he  should  awe  the  people  again  into 
allegiance.  He  took  his  measures  with  that  combination  of 
dexterity  and  daring  which  formed  his  character,  and  arrived 
one  night  under  the  walls  of  Granada,  with  five  hundred 
chosen  followers.  Scaling  the  walls  of  the  Alhambra,  he  threw 
himself  with  sanguinary  fury  into  its  silent  courts.  The 
sleeping  inmates  were  roused  from  their  repose  only  to  fall 
by  the  exterminating  scimitar.  The  rage  of  Aben  Hassan 
spared  neither  age,  nor  rank,  nor  sex;  the  halls  resounded 
with  shrieks  and  yells,  and  the  fountains  ran  red  with  blood. 
The  alcayde,  Aben  Cimixer,  retreated  to  a  strong  tower,  with 
a  few  of  the  garrison  and  inhabitants.  The  furious  Aben 
Hassan  did  not  lose  time  in  pursuing  him ;  he  was  anxious  to 
secure  the  city,  and  to  wreak  his  vengeance  on  its  rebellious 
inhabitants.  Descending  with  his  bloody  band  into  the  streets, 
he  cut  down  the  defenceless  inhabitants,  as,  startled  from  their 
sleep,  they  rushed  forth  to  learn  the  cause  of  the  alarm.  The 
city  was  soon  completely  roused;  the  people  flew  to  arms; 
lights  blazed  in  every  street,  revealing  the  scanty  numbers  of 
this  band,  that  had  been  dealing  such  fatal  vengeance  in  the 
dark.  Muley  Aben  Hassan  had  been  mistaken  in  his  conjec 
tures  ;  the  great  mass  of  the  people,  incensed  by  his  tyranny, 
were  zealous  in  favor  of  his  son.  A  violent,  but  transient  con 
flict  took  place  in  the  streets  and  squares;  many  of  the  fol 
lowers  of  Aben  Hassan  were  slain ;  the  rest  driven  out  of  the 
city ;  and  the  old  monarch,  with  the  remnant  of  his  band,  re 
treated  to  his  loyal  city  of  Malaga. 

Such  was  the  commencement  of  those  great  internal  feuds 
and  divisions,  which  hastened  the  downfall  of  Granada.  The 
Moors  became  separated  into  two  hostile  factions,  headed  by 
the  father  and  the  son,  and  several  bloody  encounters  took 
place  between  them :  yet  they  never  failed  to  act  with  all  their 
separate  force  against  the  Christians,  as  a  common  enemy, 
whenever  an  opportunity  occurred. 


4£  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

CHAPTER  X. 

ROYAL  EXPEDITION  AGAINST  LOXA. 

KING  FERDINAND  held  a  council  of  war  at  Cordova,  where  it 
was  deliberated  what  was  to  be  done  with  Alhama.  Most  of 
the  council  advised  that  it  should  be  demolished,  inasmuch  as, 
being  in  the  centre  of  the  Moorish  kingdom,  it  would  be  at  all 
times  liable  to  attack,  and  could  only  be  maintained  by  a  pow 
erful  garrison  and  at  a  vast  expense.  Queen  Isabella  arrived  at 
Cordova  in  the  midst  of  these  deliberations,  and  listened  to 
them  with  surprise  and  impatience.  ' '  What !"  said  she,  ' '  shall 
we  destroy  the  first  fruits  of  our  victories?  shall  we  abandon 
the  first  place  we  have  wrested  from  the  Moors?  Never  let  us 
suffer  such  an  idea  to  occupy  our  minds.  It  would  give  new 
courage  to  the  enemy,  arguing  fear  or  feebleness  in  our  coun 
cils.  You  talk  of  the  toil  and  expense  of  maintaining  Alhama. 
Did  we  doubt,  on  undertaking  this  war,  that  it  was  to  be  a 
war  of  infinite  cost,  labor,  and  bloodshed?  And  shall  we 
shrink  from  the  cost,  the  moment  a  victory  is  obtained,  and 
the  question  is  merely  to  guard  or  abandon  its  glorious  trophy^ 
Let  us  hear  no  more  about  the  destruction  of  Alhama ;  let  us 
maintain  its  walls  sacred,  as  a  strong-hold  granted  us  by 
Heaven,  in  the  centre  of  this  hostile  land ;  and  let  our  only 
consideration  be  how  to  extend  our  conquest,  and  capture  the 
surrounding  cities." 

The  language  of  the  queen  infused  a  more  lofty  and  chival 
rous  spirit  into  the  royal  council.  Preparations  were  immedi 
ately  made  to  maintain  Alhama  at  all  risk  and  expense ;  and 
king  Ferdinand  appointed  as  alcayde  Luis  Fernandez  Puerto 
Carrero,  Senior  of  the  house  of  Palma,  supported  by  Diego 
Lopez  de  Ayala,  Pero  Ruiz  de  Alarcon,  and  Alonzo  Ortis,  cap 
tains  of  four  hundred  lances,  and  a  body  of  one  thousand  foot ; 
supplied  with  provisions  for  three  months. 

Ferdinand  resolved  also  to  lay  siege  to  Loxa,  a  city  of  great 
strength,  at  no  great  distance  from  Alhama.  For  this  pur 
pose,  he  called  upon  all  the  cities  and  towns  of  Andalusia  and 
Estramadura,  and  the  domains  of  the  orders  of  Santiago,  Cala- 
trava,  and  Alcantara,  and  of  the  priory  of  St.  Juan,  and  the 
kingdom  of  Toledo,  and  beyond  to  the  cities  of  Salamanca, 
Tero,  and  Yalladolid,  to  furnish,  according  to  their  repartimi- 
entos,  or  allotments,  a  certain  quantity  of  bread,  wine,  and 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  43 

cattle,  to  be  delivered  at  the  royal  camp  before  Loxa,  one-half 
at  the  end  of  June,  and  one-half  in  July.  These  lands,  also, 
together  with  Biscay  and  Guipiscoa,  were  ordered  to  send 
reinforcements  of  horse  and  foot,  each  town  furnishing  its 
quota ;  and  great  diligence  was  used  in  providing  bombards, 
powder,  and  other  warlike  munitions. 

The  Moors  were  no  less  active  in  their  preparations,  and 
sent  missives  into  Africa,  entreating  supplies,  and  calling 
upon  the  Barbary  princes  to  aid  them  in  this  war  of  the  faith. 
To  intercept  all  succor,  the  Castilian  sovereigns  stationed  an 
armada  of  ships  and  galleys  in  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar,  under 
the  command  of  Martin  Diaz  de  Mina  and  Carlos  de  Valera, 
with  orders  to  scour  the  Barbary  coast,  and  sweep  every 
Moorish  sail  from  the  sea. 

While  these  preparations  were  making,  Ferdinand  made 
an  incursion,  at  the  head  of  his  army,  into  the  kingdom  of 
Granada,  and  laid  waste  the  vega,  destroying  its  hamlets  and 
villages,  ravaging  the  fields  of  grain,  and  driving  away  the 
cattle. 

It  was  about  the  end  of  June,  that  king  Ferdinand  departed 
from  Cordova,  to  sit  down  before  the  walls  of  Loxa.  So  con 
fident  was  he  of  success,  that  he  left  a  great  part  of  the  army 
at  Ecija,  and  advanced  with  but  five  thousand  cavalry  and 
eight  thousand  infantry.  The  marques  of  Cadiz,  a  warrior  as 
wise  as  he  was  valiant,  remonstrated  against  employing  so 
small  a  force,  and  indeed  was  opposed  to  the  measure  alto 
gether,  as  being  undertaken  precipitately  and  without  suffi 
cient  preparation.  King  Ferdinand,  however,  was  influenced 
by  the  counsel  of  Don  Diego  de  Merlo,  and  was  eager  to  strike 
a  brilliant  and  decided  blow.  A  vain-glorious  confidence  pre 
vailed,  about  this  time,  among  the  Spanish  cavaliers;  they 
overrated  their  own  prowess,  or  rather  they  undervalued  and 
despised  their  enemy.  Many  of  them  believed  that  the  Moors 
would  scarcely  remain  in  their  city,  when  they  saw  the  Chris 
tian  troops  advancing  to  assail  it.  The  Spanish  chivalry, 
therefore,  marched  gallantly  and  fearlessly,  and  almost  care 
lessly,  over  the  border,  scantily  supplied  with  the  things  need 
ful  for  a  besieging  army,  in  the  heart  of  an  enemy's  country. 
In  the  same  negligent  and  confident  spirit,  they  took  up  their 
station  before  Loxa. 

The  country  around  was  broken  and  hiliy,  so  that  it  was 
extremely  difficult  to  form  a  combined  camp.  The  river 
Xenil,  which  runs  by  the  town,  was  compressed  between 


44  THE   CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

high  banks,  and  so  deep  as  to  be  fordable  with  extreme 
difficulty;  and  the  Moors  had  possession  of  the  bridge.  The 
king  pitched  his  tents  in  a  plantation  of  olives,  on  the  banks 
of  the  river ;  the  troops  were  distributed  in  different  encamp 
ments  on  the  heights,  but  separated  from  each  other  by  deep 
rocky  ravines,  so  as  to  be  incapable  of  yielding  each  other 
prompt  assistance.  There  was  no  room  for  the  operation  of 
the  cavalry.  The  artillery,  also,  was  so  injudiciously  placed, 
as  to  be  almost  entirely  useless.  Alonzo  of  Arragon,  duke  of 
Villahermosa,  and  illegitimate  brother  of  the  king,  was  present 
at  the  siege,  and  disapproved  of  the  whole  arrangement.  He 
was  one  of  the  most  able  generals  of  his  time,  and  especially 
renowned  for  his  skill  in  battering  fortified  places.  He  recom 
mended  that  the  whole  disposition  of  the  camp  should  be 
changed,  and  that  several  bridges  should  be  thrown  across 
the  river.  His  advice  was  adopted,  but  slowly  and  negligently 
followed,  so  that  it  was  rendered  of  no  avail.  Among  other 
oversights  in  this  hasty  and  negligent  expedition,  the  army 
bad  no  supply  of  baked  bread ;  and,  in  the  hurry  of  encamp 
ment,  there  was  no  time  to  erect  furnaces.  Cakes  were  there 
fore  hastily  made,  and  baked  on  the  coals,  and  for  two  days 
the  troops  were  supplied  in  this  irregular  way. 

King  Ferdinand  felt,  too  late,  the  insecurity  of  his  position, 
and  endeavored  to  provide  a  temporary  remedy.  There  was 
a  height  near  the  city,  called  by  the  Moors  Santo  Albohacen, 
which  was  in  front  of  the  bridge.  He  ordered  several  of  his 
most  valiant  cavaliers  to  take  possession  of  this  height,  and  to 
hold  it  as  a  check  upon  the  enemy  and  a  protection  to  the 
camp.  The  cavaliers  chosen  for  this  distinguished  and  peril 
ous  post,  were,  the  marques  of  Cadiz,  the  marques  of  Villena, 
Don  Roderigo  Tellez  Giron,  Master  of  Calatrava,  his  brother 
the  count  of  Ureiia,  and  Don  Alonzo  de  Aguilar.  These  valiant 
warriors,  and  tried  companions  in  arms,  led  their  troops  with 
alacrity  to  the  height,  which  soon  glittered  with  the  array  of 
arms,  and  was  graced  by  several  of  the  most  redoubtable  pen 
nons  of  warlike  Spain. 

Loxa  was  commanded  at  this  time  by  an  old  Moorish 
alcayde,  whose  daughter  was  the  favorite  wife  of  Boabdil  el 
Chico.  The  name  of  this  Moor  was  Ibrahim  Ali  Atar,  but 
he  was  generally  known  among  the  Spaniards  as  Alatar. 
He  had  grown  gray  in  border  warfare,  was  an  implacable 
enemy  of  the  Christians,  and  his  name  had  long  been  the 
terror  of  the  frontier.  He  was  in  the  ninetieth  year  of  his 


TSE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  45 

age,  yet  indomitable  in  spirit,  fiery  in  his  passions,  sinewy 
and  powerful  in  frame,  deeply  versed  in  warlike  stratagem, 
and  accounted  the  best  lance  in  all  Mauritania.  He  had  three 
thousand  horsemen  under  his  command,  veteran  troops,  with 
whom  he  had  often  scoured  the  borders ;  and  he  daily  expected 
the  old  Moorish  king,  with  reinforcements. 

Old  Ali  Atar  had  watched  from  his  fortress  every  movement 
of  the  Christian  army,  and  had  exulted  in  all  the*  errors  of  its 
commanders :  when  he  beheld  the  flower  of  Spanish  chivalry, 
glittering  about  the  height  of  Albohacen,  his  eye  flashed  with 
exultation.  "By  the  aid  of  Allah,"  said  he,  "I  will  give  those 
pranking  cavaliers  a  rouse." 

Ali  Atar,  privately,  and  by  night,  sent  forth  a  large  body  of 
his  chosen  troops,  to  He  in  ambush  near  one  of  the  skirts  of 
Albohacen.  On  the  fourth  day  of  the  siege,  he  sallied  across 
the  bridge,  and  made  a  feint  attack  upon  the  height.  The 
cavaliers  rushed  impetuously  forth  to  meet  him,  leaving  their 
encampment  almost  unprotected.  Ali  Atar  wheeled  and  fled, 
and  was  hotly  pursued.  When  the  Christian  cavaliers  had 
been  drawn  a  considerable  distance  from  their  encampment, 
they  heard  a  vast  shout  behind  them,  and,  looking  round' 
beheld  their  encampment  assailed  by  the  Moorish  force  which 
had  been  placed  in  ambush,  and  which  had  ascended  a  differ 
ent  side  of  the  hill.  The  cavaliers  desisted  from  the  pursuit, 
and  hastened  to  prevent  the  plunder  of  their  tents.  Ali  Atar, 
in  his  turn,  wheeled  and  pursued  them;  and  they  were 
attacked  in  front  and  rear,  on  the  summit  of  the  hill.  The 
contest  lasted  for  an  hour ;  the  height  of  Albohacen  was  red 
with  blood;  many  brave  cavaliers  fell,  expiring  among  heaps 
of  the  enemy.  The  fierce  Ah  Atar  fought  with  the  fury  of  a 
demon,  until  the  arrival  of  more  Christian  forces  compelled 
him  to  retreat  into  the  city.  The  severest  loss  to  the  Chris 
tians,  in  this  skirmish,  was  that  of  Eoderigo  Tellez  Giron, 
Master  of  Calatrava.  As  he  was  raising  his  arm  to  make  a 
blow,  an  arrow  pierced  him,  just  beneath  the  shoulder,  at  the 
open  part  of  the  corselet.  He  fell  instantly  from  his  horse, 
but  was  caught  by  Pedro  Gasca,  a  cavalier  of  Avila,  who 
conveyed  him  to  his  tent,  where  he  died.  The  king  and 
queen,  and  the  whole  kingdom,  mourned  his  death,  for  he 
was  in  the  freshness  of  his  youth,  being  but  twenty-four 
years  of  age,  and  had  proved  himself  a  gallant  and  high- 
minded  cavalier.  A  melancholy  group  collected  about  his 
corse,  on  the  bloody  height  of  Albohacen:  the  knights  of 


46  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

Calatrava  mourned  him  as  a  commander ;  the  cavaliers  whc 
were  encamped  on  the  height,  lamented  him  as  their  com 
panion  in  arms,  in  a  service  of  peril ;  while  the  count  de  Ureila 
grieved  over  him  with  the  tender  affection  of  a  brother. 

King  Ferdinand  now  perceived  the  wisdom  of  the  opinion  of 
the  marques  of  Cadiz,  and  that  his  force  was  quite  insufficient 
for  the  enterprise.  To  continue  his  camp  in  its  present  un 
fortunate  position,  would  cost  him  the  lives  of  his  bravest 
cavaliers,  if  not  a  total  defeat,  in  case  of  reinforcements  to 
the  enemy.  He  called  a  council  of  war,  late  in  the  evening 
of  Saturday;  and  it  was  determined  to  withdraw  the  army, 
early  the  next  morning,  to  Rio  Frio,  a  short  distance  from  the 
city,  and  there  wait  for  additional  troops  from  Cordova. 

The  next  morning,  early,  the  cavaliers  on  the  height  of 
Albohacen  began  to  strike  their  tents.  No  sooner  did  Ali 
Atar  behold  this,  than  he  sallied  forth  to  attack  them.  Many 
of  the  Christian  troops,  who  had  not  heard  of  the  intention  to 
change  the  camp,  seeing  the  tents  struck  and  the  Moors  sally 
ing  forth,  supposed  that  the  enemy  had  been  reinforced  in  the 
night,  and  that  the  army  was  on  the  point  of  retreating. 
Without  stopping  to  ascertain  the  truth,  or  to  receive  orders, 
they  fled  in  dismay,  spreading  confusion' through  the  camp; 
nor  did  they  halt  until  they  had  reached  the  Rock  of  the 
Lovers,  about  seven  leagues  from  Loxa.* 

The  king  and  his  commanders  saw  the  imminent  peril  of  the 
moment,  and  made  face  to  the  Moors,  each  commander  guard 
ing  his  quarter  and  repelling  all  assaults,  while  the  tents  were 
struck  and  the  artillery  and  ammunition  conveyed  away. 
The  king,  with  a  handful  of  cavaliers,  galloped  to  a  rising 
ground,  exposed  to  the  fire  of  the  enemy,  calling  upon  the 
flying  troops  and  endeavoring  in  vain  to  rally  them.  Setting 
upon  the  Moors,  he  and  his  cavaliers  charged  them  so  vigor 
ously,  that  they  put  a  squadron  to  flight,  slaying  many  with 
their  swords  and  lances,  and  driving  others  into  the  river, 
where  they  were  drowned.  The  Moors,  however,  were  soon 
reinforced,  and  returned  in  great  numbers.  The  king  was  in 
great  danger  of  being  surrounded,  and  twice  owed  his  safety 
to  the  valor  of  Don  Juan  de  Ribera,  Senior  of  Montemayor. 

The  marques  of  Cadiz  beheld,  from  a  distance,  the  peril  of 
his  sovereign.  Summoning  about  seventy  horsemen  to  follow 
him,  he  galloped  to  the  spot,  threw  himself  between  the  king 

*  Pulgar.    Cronica. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  47 

and  the  enemy,  and,  hurling  his  lance,  transpierced  one  of  the 
most  daring  of  the  Moors.  For  some  time,  he  remained  with 
no  other  weapon  than  his  sword ;  his  horse  was  wounded  by 
an  arrow,  and  many  of  his  followers  slain ;  but  he  succeeded 
in  beating  off  the  Moors,  and  rescuing  the  king  from  imminent 
jeopardy,  whom  he  then  prevailed  upon  to  retire  to  less  dan 
gerous  ground. 

The  marques  continued,  throughout  the  day,  to  expose  him 
self  to  the  repeated  assaults  of  the  enemy ;  he  was  ever  found 
in  the  place  of  the  greatest  danger,  and  through  his  bravery  a 
great  part  of  the  army  and  camp  was  preserved  from  destruc 
tion.* 

It  was  a  perilous  day  for  the  commanders ;  for  in  a  retreat 
of  the  kind,  it  is  the  noblest  cavaliers  who  most  expose  them 
selves  to  save  their  people.  The  duke  of  Medina  Celi  was 
struck  to  the  ground,  but  rescued  by  his  troops.  The  count 
de  Tendilla,  whose  tents  were  nearest  to  the  city,  received 
several  wounds,  and  various  other  cavaliers  of  the  most  dis 
tinguished  note  were  exposed  to  fearful  jeopardy.  The  whole 
day  was  passed  in  bloody  skirmishings,  in  which  the  hidalgos 
and  cavaliers  of  the  royal  household  distinguished  themselves 
by  their  bravery;  at  length, the  encampments  being  all  broken 
up,  and  most  of  the  artillery  and  baggage  removed,  the  bloody 
height  of  Albohacen  was  abandoned,  and  the  neighborhood  of 
Loxa  evacuated.  Several  tents,  a  quantity  of  provisions,  and 
a  few  pieces  of  artillery,  were  left  upon  the  spot,  from  the 
want  of  horses  and  mules  to  carry  them  off. 

Ali  Atar  hung  upon  the  rear  of  the  retiring  army,  and  har 
assed  it  until  it  reached  Rio  Frio ;  from  thence  Ferdinand  re 
turned  to  Cordova,  deeply  mortified,  though  greatly  benefited, 
by  the  severe  lesson  he  had  received,  which  served  to  render 
him  more  cautious  in  his  campaigns  and  more  diffident  of  for 
tune.  He  sent  letters  to  all  parts,  excusing  his  retreat,  imput 
ing  it  to  the  small  number  of  his  forces,  and  the  circumstance 
that  many  of  them  were  quotas  sent  from  various  cities,  and 
not  in  royal  pay ;  in  the  mean  time,  to  console  his  troops  for 
their  disappointment,  and  to  keep  up  their  spirits,  he  led  them 
upon  another  inroad  to  lay  waste  the  vega  of  Granada. 

*  Cura  de  los  Palacios,  c.  58. 


48  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 


CHAPTER  XL 

HOW  MULEY  ABEN  HASSAN  MADE  A  FORAY  INTO    THE    LANDS  OP 
MEDINA  SIDONIA,    AND  HOW  HE  WAS  RECEIVED. 

OLD  Muley  Aben  Hassan  had  mustered  an  army,  and 
marched  to  the  relief  of  Loxa ;  but  arrived  too  late— the  last 
squadron  of  Ferdinand  had  already  passed  over  the  border. 
"They  have  come  and  gone,"  said  he,  "  like  a  summer  cloud, 
and  all  their  vaunting  has  been  mere  empty  thunder."  He 
turned  to  make  another  attempt  upon  Alhama,  the  garrison  of 
which  was  in  the  utmost  consternation  at  the  retreat  of  Ferdi 
nand,  and  would  have  deserted  the  place,  had  it  not  been  for 
the  courage  and  perseverance  of  the  alcayde,  Luis  Fernandez 
Puerto  Carrero.  That  brave  and  loyal  commander  cheered  up 
the  spirits  of  his  men,  and  kept  the  old  Moorish  king  at  bay, 
until  the  approach  of  Ferdinand,  on  his  second  incursion  into 
the  vega,  obliged  him  to  make  an  unwilling  retreat  to  Malaga. 

Muley  Aben  Hassan  felt  that  it  would  be  in  vain,  with  his 
inferior  force,  to  oppose  the  powerful  army  of  the  Christian 
monarch ;  but  to  remain  idle  and  see  his  territories  laid  waste, 
would  ruin  him  in  the  estimation  of  his  people.  ' '  If  we  can 
not  parry, "said  he,  "we  can  strike;  if  we  cannot  keep  our 
own  lands  -from  being  ravaged,  we  can  ravage  the  lands  of  the 
enemy."  He  inquired  and  learnt  that  most  of  the  chivalry  of 
Andalusia,  in  their  eagerness  for  a  foray,  had  marched  off 
with  the  king,  and  left  their  own  country  almost  defenceless. 
The  territories  of  the  duke  of  Medina  Sidonia  were  particularly 
unguarded :  here  were  vast  plains  of  pasturage,  covered  with 
flocks  and  herds— the  very  country  for  a  hasty  inroad.  The 
old  monarch  had  a  bitter  grudge  against  the  duke,  for  having 
foiled  him  at  Alhama.  "  I'll  give  this  cavalier  a  lesson,"  said 
he,  exultingly,  l  i  that  will  cure  him  of  his  love  of  campaign 
ing."  So  he  prepared  in  all  haste  for  a  foray  into  the  country 
about  Medina  Sidonia. 

Muley  Aben  Hassan  sallied  out  of  Malaga  with  fifteen  hun 
dred  horse  and  six  thousand  foot,  and  took  the  way  by  the  sea- 
coast,  marching  through  Estipom'a,  and  entering  the  Christian 
country  between  Gibraltar  and  Castellar.  The  only  person 
that  was  likely  to  molest  him  on  this  route,  was  one  Pedro  de 
Vargas ;  a  shrewd,  hardy,  and  vigilant  soldier,  alcayde  of 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  49 

raltar,  and  who  lay  ensconced  in  his  old  warrior  rock  as  in  a 
citadel.  Muley  Aben  Hassan  knew  the  watchful  and  daring 
character  of  the  man,  but  had  ascertained  that  his  garrison  was 
too  small  to  enable  him  to  make  a  sally,  or  at  least  to  insure 
him  any  success.  Still  he  pursued  his  march,  with  great  silence 
and  caution;  sent  parties  in  advance,  to  explore  every  pass 
where  a  foe  might  lie  in  ambush;  cast  many  an  anxious  eye 
towards  the  old  rock  of  Gibraltar,  as  its  cloud-capped  summit 
was  seen  towering  in  the  distance  on  his  left ;  nor  did  he  feel 
entirely  at  ease,  until  he  had  passed  through  the  broken  and 
mountainous  country  of  CasteUar,  and  descended  into  the 
plains.  Here  he  encamped  on  the  banks  of  the  Celemin. 
From  hence  he  sent  four  hundred  corredors,  or  fleet  horsemen, 
armed  with  lances,  who  were  to  station  themselves  near  Alge- 
ziras,  and  to  keep  a  strict  watch  across  the  bay,  upon  the  op 
posite  fortress  of  Gibraltar.  If  the  alcayde  attempted  to  sally 
forth,  they  were  to  waylay  and  attack  him,  being  almost  four 
times  his  supposed  force;  and  were  to  send  swift  tidings  to  the 
camp.  In  the  mean  time,  two  hundred  corredors  were  sent  to 
scour  that  vast  plain  called  the  Campina  de  Tarifa,  abounding 
with  flocks  and  herds;  and  two  hundred  more  were  to  ravage 
the  lands  about  Medina  Sidonia.  Muley  Aben  Hassan  re- 
mained  with  the  main  body  of  the  army,  as  a  rallying  point, 
on  the  banks  of  the  Celemin. 

The  foraging  parties  scoured  the  country  to  such  effect,  that 
they  came  driving  vast  flocks  and  herds  before  them,  enough 
to  supply  the  place  of  aU  that  had  been  swept  from  the  vega  of 
Granada.  The  troops  which  had  kept  watch  upon  the  rock  of 
Gibraltar,  returned  with  word  that  they  had  not  seen  a  Chris 
tian  helmet  stirring.  The  old  king  congratulated  himself  upon 
the  secrecy  and  promptness  with  which  he  had  conducted  his 
foray,  and  upon  having  baffled  the  vigilance  of  Pedro  de 
Vargas. 

Muley  Aben  Hassan  had  not  been  so  secret  as  he  imagined; 
the  watchful  Pedro  de  Vargas  had  received  notice  of  his  move 
ments.  His  garrison  was  barely  sufficient  for  the  defence  of  the 
place,  and  he  feared  to  take  the  field  and  leave  his  fortress  un 
guarded.  Luckily,  at  this  juncture,  there  arrived  in  the  har 
bor  of  Gibraltar  a  squadron  of  the  armed  galleys  stationed  in 
the  Strait,  and  commanded  by  Carlos  de  Valera.  The  alcayde 
immediately  prevailed  upon  him  to  guard  the  place  during  his 
absence,  and  sallied  forth  at  midnight  with  seventy  horse.  He 
made  for  the  town  of  Castellar,  which  was  strongly  posted  on  a 


50  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

steep  height,  knowing  that  the  Moorish  king  would  have  to 
return  by  this  place.  He  ordered  alarm-fires  to  be  lighted  upon 
the  mountains,  to  give  notice  that  the  Moors  were  on  the 
ravage,  that  the  peasants  might  drive  their  flocks  and  herds 
to  places  of  refuge ;  and  he  sent  couriers,  riding  like  mad,  in 
every  direction,  summoning  the  fighting  men  of  the  neighbor 
hood  to  meet  him  at  Castellar. 

Muley  AJben  Hassan  saw,  by  the  fires  blazing  about  the 
mountains,  that  the  country  was  rising.  He  struck  his  tents, 
and  pushed  forward  as  rapidly  as  possible  for  the  border ;  but 
he  was  encumbered  with  booty,  and  with  the  vast  cavalgada 
swept  from  the  pastures  of  the  Campina  de  Tarifa.  His  scouts 
brought  him  word  that  there  were  troops  in  the  field,  but  he 
made  light  of  the  intelligence,  knowing  that  they  could  only  be 
those  of  the  alcayde  of  Gibraltar,  and  that  he  had  not  more 
than  a  hundred  horsemen  in  his  garrison.  He  threw  in  ad 
vance  two  hundred  and  fifty  of  his  bravest  troops,  and  with 
them  the  alcaydes  of  Marabella  and  Casares.  Behind  this  van 
guard  was  a  great  cavalgada  of  cattle ;  and  in  the  rear  marched 
the  king,  with  the  main  force  of  his  little  army. 

It  was  near  the  middle  of  a  sultry  summer  day,  that  they  ap 
proached  Castellar.  De  Vargas  was  on  the  watch,  and  beheld, 
by  an  immense  cloud  of  dust,  that  they  were  descending  one 
of  the  heights  of  that  wild  and  broken  country.  The  vanguard 
and  rear-guard  were  above  half  a  league  asunder,  with  the 
cavalgada  between  them ;  and  a  long  and  close  forest  hid  them 
from  each  other.  De  Vargas  saw  that  they  could  render  but 
little  assistance  to  each  other  in  case  of  a  sudden  attack,  and 
might  be  easily  thrown  in  confusion.  He  chose  fifty  of  his 
bravest  horsemen,  and,  making  a  circuit,  took  his  post  secretly 
in  a  narrow  glen  opening  into  a  defile  between  two  rocky 
heights,  through  which  the  Moors  had  to  pass.  It  was  his  in 
tention  to  suffer  the  vanguard  and  the  cavalgada  to  pass,  and 
to  fall  upon  the  rear. 

While  thus  lying  perdue,  six  Moorish  scouts,  well  mounted 
and  well  armed,  entered  the  glen,  examining  every  place  that 
might  conceal  an  enemy.  Some  of  the  Christians  advised  that 
they  should  slay  these  six  men,  and  retreat  to  Gibraltar.  "  No," 
said  De  Vargas,  "  I  have  come  out  for  higher  game  than  these ; 
and  I  hope,  by  the  aid  of  God  and  Santiago,  to  do  good  work 
this  day.  I  know  these  Moors  well,  and  doubt  not  but  they 
may  readily  be  thrown  into  confusion. " 

By  this  time,  the  six  horsemen  approached  so  near  that  they 


THE  CONQUEST  OP   GRANADA.  51 

were  on  the  point  of  discovering  the  Christian  ambush.  De 
Vargas  gave  the  word,  and  ten  horsemen  rushed  forth  upon 
them :  in  an  instant,  four  of  the  Moors  rolled  in  the  dust ;  the 
other  two  put  spurs  to  their  steeds,  and  fled  towards  their 
army,  pursued  by  the  ten  Christians.  About  eighty  of  the 
Moorish  vanguard  came  galloping  to  the  relief  of  their  com 
panions;  the  Christians  turned,  and  fled  towards  their  am- 
bush.  De  Vargas  kept  his  men  concealed,  until  the  fugitives 
and  their  pursuers  came  clattering  pell-mell  into  the  glen.  At 
a  signal  trumpet,  his  men  sallied  forth  with  great  heat  and 
in  close  array.  The  Moors  almost  rushed  upon  their  weapons, 
before  they  perceived  them ;  forty  of  the  infidels  were  over 
thrown,  the  rest  turned  their  backs.  "Forward!"  cried  De 
Vargas ;  "let  us  give  the  vanguard  a  brush,  before  it  can  be 
joined  by  the  rear."  So  saying,  he  pursued  the  flying  Moors 
down  hill,  and  came  with  such  force  and  fury  upon  the  ad 
vance  guard  as  to  overturn  many  of  them  at  the  first  encoun 
ter.  As  he  wheeled  off  with  his  men,  the  Moors  discharged 
their  lances ;  upon  which  he  returned  to  the  charge,  and  made 
great  slaughter.  The  Moors  fought  valiantly  for  a  short  time, 
until  the  alcaydes  of  Marabella  and  Casares  were  slain,  when 
they  gave  way  and  fled  for  the  rear-guard.  In  their  flight,  they 
passed  through  the  cavalgada  of  cattle,  threw  the  whole  in 
confusion,  and  raised  such  a  cloud  of  dust  that  the  Christians 
could  no  longer  distinguish  objects.  Fearing  that  the  king  and 
the  main  body  might  be  at  hand,  and  finding  that  De  Vargas 
was  badly  wounded,  they  contented  themselves  with  despoiling 
the  slain  and  taking  above  twenty-eight  horses,  and  then  re 
treated  to  Castellar. 

When  the  routed  Moors  came  flying  back  upon  the  rear 
guard;  Muley  Aben  Hassan  feared  that  the  people  of  Xeres 
were  in  arms.  Several  of  his  followers  advised  him  to  abandon 
the  cavalgada,  and  retreat  by  another  road.  "  No,"  said  the 
old  king,  "  he  is  no  true  soldier  who  gives  up  his  booty  with 
out  fighting. "  Putting  spurs  to  his  horse,  he  galloped  forward 
through  the  centre  of  the  cavalgada,  driving  the  cattle  to  the 
right  and  left.  When  he  reached  the  field  of  battle,  he  found 
it  strewed  with  the  bodies  of  upwards  of  one  hundred  Moors, 
among  which  were  those  of  the  two  alcaydes.  Enraged  at  the 
sight,  he  summoned  all  his  cross-bowmen  and  cavalry,  pushed 
on  to  the  very  gates  of  Castellar,  and  set  fire  to  two  houses 
close  to  the  walls.  Pedro  de  Vargas  was  too  severely  wounded 
to  sally  forth  in  person ;  but  he  ordered  out  his  troops,  and  there 


52  THE  CONQUEST  OP  OEANADA. 

was  brisk  skirmishing  under  the  walls,  until  the  king  drew  off 
and  returned  to  the  scene  of  the  recent  encounter.  Here  he 
had  the  bodies  of  the  principal  warriors  laid  across  mules,  to 
be  interred  honorably  at  Malaga ;  the  rest  of  the  slain  were 
buried  on  the  field  of  battle.  Then,  gathering  together  the 
scattered  cavalgada,  he  paraded  it  slowly,  in  an  immense  line, 
past  the  walls  of  Castellar,  by  way  of  taunting  his  foe. 

With  all  his  fierceness,  old  Muley  Aben  Hassan  had  a  gleam 
of  warlike  courtesy,  and  admired  the  hardy  and  soldierlike 
character  of  Pedro  de  Vargas.  He  summoned  two  Christian 
captives,  and  demanded  what  were  the  revenues  of  the  alcayde 
of  Gibraltar.  They  told  him  that,  among  other  things,  he  was 
entitled  to  one  out  of  every  drove  of  cattle  that  passed  his 
boundaries.  "Allah  forbid,"  cried  the  old  monarch,  "  that  so 
brave  a  cavalier  should  be  defrauded  of  his  dues. " 

He  immediately  chose  twelve  of  the  finest  cattle,  from  the 
twelve  droves  which  formed  the  cavalgada.  These  he  gave  in 
charge  of  an  alfaqui,  to  deliver  to  Pedro  de  Vargas.  ' '  Tell 
him,"  said  he,  "that  I  crave  Ins  pardon  for  not  having  sent 
these  cattle  sooner ;  but  I  have  this  moment  learnt  the  nature 
of  his  rights,  and  I  hasten  to  satisfy  them,  with  the  punctual 
ity  due  to-  so  worthy  a  cavalier.  Tell  him,  at  the  same  time, 
that  I  had  no  idea  the  alcayde  of  Gibraltar  was  so  active  and 
vigilant  in  collecting  his  tolls." 

The  brave  alcayde  relished  the  stern,  soldierlike  pleasantry 
of  the  old  Moorish  monarch.  He  ordered  a  rich  silken  vest, 
and  a  scarlet  mantle,  to  be  given  to  the  alfaqui,  and  dismissed 
him  with  great  courtesy.  ' '  Tell  his  majesty, "  said  he,  ' '  that  I 
kiss  his  hands  for  the  honor  he  has  done  me,  and  regret  thtfrt 
my  scanty  force  has  not  permitted  me  to  give  him  a  more  sig 
nal  reception,  on  his  coming  into  these  parts.  Had  three,  hun 
dred  horsemen,  whom  I  have  been  promised  from  Xeres, 
arrived  in  time,  I  might  have  served  up  an  entertainment  more 
befitting  such  a  monarch.  I  trust,  however,  they  will  arrive 
in  the  course  of  the  night,  in  which  case  his  majesty  may  be 
sure  of  a  royal  regale  at  the  dawning." 

Muley  Aben  Hassan  shook  his  head,  when  he  received  the 
reply  of  De  Vargas.  "  Allah  preserve  us,"  said  he,  "from  any 
visitation  of  these  hard  riders  of  Xeres !  a  handful  of  troops, 
acquainted  with  the  wild  passes  of  these  mountains,  may  de 
stroy  an  army  encumbered  as  ours  is  with  booty." 

It  was  some  relief  to  the  king,  however,  to  learn  that  the 
hardy  alcayde  of  Gibraltar  was  too  severely  wounded  to  take 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  53 

the  field  in  person.  He  immediately  beat  a  retreat,  with  all 
speed,  before  the  close  of  day,  hurrying  with  such  precipita 
tion,  that  the  cavalgada  was  frequently  broken,  and  scattered 
among  the  rugged  defiles  of  the  mountains;  and  above  five 
thousand  of  the  cattle  turned  back,  and  were  regained  by  the 
Christians.  Muley  Aben  Hassan  returned  triumphantly  with 
the  residue  to  Malaga,  glorying  in  the  spoils  of  the  duke  of 
Medina  Sidonia. 

King  Ferdinand  was  mortified  at  finding  his  incursion  into 
the  vega  of  Granada,  counterbalanced  by  this  inroad  into  his 
dominions,  and  saw  that  there  were,  two  sides  to  the  game  of 
war,  as  to  all  other  games.  The  only  one  who  reaped  real 
glory  in  this  series  of  inroads  and  skirmishings,  was  Pedro  de 
Vargas,  the  stout  alcayde  of  Gibraltar.* 


CHAPTER  XII. 

FORAY  OF  SPANISH  CAVALIERS  AMONG  THE  MOUNTAINS  OF 
MALAGA. 

THE  foray  of  old  Muley  Aben  Hassan  had  touched  the  pride 
of  the  Andalusian  chivalry,  and  they  determined  on  retalia 
tion.  For  this  purpose  a  number  of  the  most  distinguished 
cavaliers  assembled  at  Antiquera,  in  the  month  of  March,  1483. 
The  leaders  of  the  enterprise  were,  the  gaUant  marques  of 
Cadiz;  Don  Pedro  Henriquez,  adelantado  of  Andalusia;  Don 
Juan  de  Silva,  count  of  Cifuentes,  and  bearer  of  the  royal 
standard,  who  commanded  in  Seville;  Don  Alonzo  de  Carde 
nas,  Master  of  the  religious  and  military  order  of  Santiago; 
and  Don  Alonzo  de  Aguilar.  Several  other  cavaliers  of  note 
hastened  to  take  pare  in  the  enterprise;  and  in  a  little  while, 
about  twenty-seven  hundred  horse,  and  several  companies  of 
foot,  were  assembled  within  the  old  warlike  city  of  Antiquera, 
comprising  the  very  flower  of  Andalusian  chivalry. 

A  council  of  war  was  held  by  the  chiefs,  to  determine  in 
what  quarter  they  should  strike  a  blow.  The  rival  Moorish 
kings  were  waging  civil  war  with  each  other,  in  the  vicinity  of 
Granada ;  and  the  whole  country  lay  open  to  inroads.  Various 

*  Alonzo  de  Palenecia,  1.  28,  e.  3. 


54  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

plans  were  proposed  by  the  different  cavaliers.  The  marques 
of  Cadiz  was  desirous  of  scaling  the  walls  of  Zahara,  and  re 
gaining  possession  of  that  important  fortress.  The  Master  of 
Santiago,  however,  suggested  a  wider  range  and  a  still  more 
important  object.  He  had  received  information  from  his  ada- 
lides,  who  were  apostate  Moors,  that  an  incursion  might  be 
safely  made  into  a  mountainous  region  near  Malaga,  called  the 
Axarquia.  Here  were  valleys  of  pasture  land,  well  stocked 
with  flocks  and  herds ;  and  there  were  numerous  villages  and 
hamlets,  which  would  be  an  easy  prey.  The  city  of  Malaga 
was  too  weakly  garrisoned,  and  had  too  few  cavalry,  to  send 
forth  any  force  in  opposition ;  nay,  he  added,  they  might  even 
extend  their  ravages  to  its  very  gates,  and  peradventure  carry 
that  wealthy  place  by  sudden  assault. 

The  adventurous  spirits  of  the  cavaliers  were  inflamed  by 
this  suggestion ;  in  their  sanguine  confidence,  they  already 
beheld  Malaga  in  their  power,  and  they  wt;re  eager  for  the 
enterprise.  The  marques  of  Cadiz  endeavored  to  interpose  a 
little  cool  caution.  He  likewise  had  apostate  adalides,  the 
most  intelligent  and  experienced  on  the  borders ;  among  these, 
he  placed  especial  reliance  on  one  named  Luis  Amar,  who 
knew  all  the  mountains  and  valleys  of  the  country.  He  had 
received  from  him  a  particular  account  of  these  mountains  of 
the  Axarquia.*  Their  savage  and  broken  nature  was  a  suffi 
cient  defence  for  the  fierce  people  who  inhabited  them,  who, 
manning  their  rocks,  and  their  tremendous  passes,  which 
were  often  nothing  more  than  the  deep  dry  beds  of  torrents, 
might  set  whole  armies  at  defiance.  Even  if  vanquished,  they 
afforded  no  spoil  to  the  victor.  Their  houses  were  little  better 
than  bare  walls,  and  they  would  drive  off  their  scanty  flocks 
and  herds  to  the  fastnesses  of  the  mountains. 

The  sober  counsel  of  the  marques,  however,  was  overruled. 
The  cavaliers,  accustomed  to  mountain  warfare,  considered 
themselves  and  their  horses  equal  to  any  wild  and  rugged 
expedition,  and  were  flushed  with  the  idea  of  terminating 
their  foray  by  a  brilliant  assault  upon  Malaga. 

Leaving  all  heavy  baggage  at  Antiquera,  and  all  such  as 
had  horses  too  weak  for  this  mo'intain  scramble,  they  set 
forth,  full  of  spirit  and  confidence  Don  Alonzo  de  Aguilar, 

*  Pulgar,  in  his  Chronicle,  reverses  the  case,  and  makes  the  marques  of  Cadiz 
recommend  the  expedition  to  the  Axarquia;  but  Fray  Antonio  Agapida  is  sup 
ported  in  his  statement  by  that  most  veracious  and  contemporary  chronicler 
Andres  Bernaldes,  curate  of  Los  Palacios. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  55 

and  the  adelantado  of  Andalusia,  led  the  squadron  of  advance. 
The  count  of  Cifuentes  followed,  with  certain  of  the  chivalry 
of  Seville.  Then  came  the  battalion  of  the  most  valiant 
Roderigo  Ponce  de  Leon,  marques  of  Cadiz;  he  was  accom^ 
panied  by  several  of  his  brothers  and  nephews,  and  many 
cavaliers,  who  sought  distinction  under  his  banner;  and  this 
family  band  attracted  universal  attention  and  applause,  as 
they  paraded  in  martial  state  through  the  streets  of  Antiquera. 
The  rear-guard  was  led  by  Don  Alonzo  Cardenas,  Master  of 
Santiago,  and  was  composed  of  the  knights  of  his  order,  and 
the  cavaliers  of  Ecija,  with  certain  men-at-arms  of  the  Holy 
Brotherhood,  whom  the  king  had  placed  under  his  command. 
The  army  was  attended  by  a  great  train  of  mules,  laden  with 
provisions  for  a  few  days'  supply,  until  they  should  be  able  to 
forage  among  the  Moorish  villages.  Never  did  a  more  gallant 
and  self-confident  little  army  tread  the  earth.  It  was  com 
posed  of  men  full  of  health  and  vigor,  to  whom  war  was  a 
pastime  and  delight.  They  had  spared  no  expense  in  their 
equipments,  for  never  was  the  pomp  of  war  carried  to  a  higher 
pitch  than  among  the  proud  chivalry  of  Spain.  Cased  in  armor 
richly  inlaid  and  embossed,  decked  with  rich  surcoats  and 
waving  plumes,  and  superbly  mounted  on  Andalusian  steeds, 
they  pranced  out  of  Antiquera  with  banners  flying,  and  their 
various  devices  and  armorial  bearings  ostentatiously  dis 
played;  and  in  the  confidence  of  their  hopes,  promised  the 
inhabitants  to  enrich  them  with  the  spoils  of  Malaga. 

In  the  rear  of  this  warlike  pageant,  followed  a  peaceful  band, 
intent  upon  profiting  by  the  anticipated  victories.  They  were 
not  the  customary  wretches  that  hover  about  armies  to  plun 
der  and  strip  the  dead,  but  goodly  and  substantial  traders  from 
Seville,  Cordova,  and  other  cities  of  traffic.  They  rode  sleek 
mules,  and  were  clad  in  goodly  raiment,  with  long  leathern 
purses  at  their  girdles,  well  filled  with  pistoles  and  other  gold 
en  coin.  They  had  heard  of  the  spoils  wasted  by  the  soldiery 
at  the  capture  of  Alhama,  and  were  provided  with  moneys  to 
buy  up  the  jewels  and  precious  stones,  the  vessels  of  gold  and 
silver,  and  the  rich  silks  and  cloths,  that  should  form  the  plun 
der  of  Malaga.  The  proud  cavaliers  eyed  these  sons  of  traffic 
with  great  disdain,  but  permitted  them  to  follow  for  the  con 
venience  of  the  troops,  who  might  otherwise  be  overburthened 
with  booty. 

It  had  been  intended  to  conduct  this  expedition  with  great 
celerity  and  secrecy ;  but  the  noise  of  their  preparations  had 


56  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

already  reached  the  city  of  Malaga.  The  garrison,  it  is  true, 
was  weak ;  but  it  possessed  a  commander  who  was  himself  a 
host.  This  was  Muley  Abdallah,  commonly  called  El  Zagal,  or 
the  valiant.  He  was  younger  brother  of  Muley  Aben  Hassan, 
and  general  of  the  few  forces  which  remained  faithful  to  the 
old  monarch.  He  possessed  equal  fierceness  of  spirit  with  his 
brother  and  surpassed  him  in  craft  and  vigilance.  His  very 
name  was  a  war-cry  among  his  soldiery,  who  had  the  most 
extravagant  opinion  of  his  prowess. 

El  Zagal  suspected  that  Malaga  was  the  object  of  this  noisy 
expedition.  He  consulted  with  old  Bexir,  a  veteran  Moor,  who 
governed  the  city.  "  If  this  army  of  marauders  should  reach 
Malaga,"  said  he,  "we  should  hardly  be  able  to  keep  them  with 
out  its  walls.  I  will  throw  myself,  with  a  small  force,  into  the 
mountains ;  rouse  the  peasantry,  take  possession  of  the  passes, 
and  endeavor  to  give  these  Spanish  cavaliers  sufficient  enter 
tainment  upon  the  road." 

It  was  on  a  Wednesday,  that  the  pranking  army  of  high- 
mettled  warriors  issued  forth  from  the  ancient  gates  of  Anti- 
quera.  They  marched  all  day  and  night,  making  their  way, 
secretly  as  they  supposed,  through  the  passes  of  the  moun 
tains.  As  the  tract  of  country  they  intended  to  maraud  was 
far  in  the  Moorish  territories,  near  the  coast  of  the  Mediter 
ranean,  they  did  not  arrive  there  until  late  in  the  following 
day.  In  passing  through  these  stern  and  lofty  mountains, 
their  path  was  often  along  the  bottom  of  a  barranco,  or  deep 
rocky  valley,  with  a  scanty  stream  dashing  along  it,  among 
the  loose  rocks  and  stones,  which  it  had  broken  and  rolled 
down,  in  the  time  of  its  autumnal  violence.  Sometimes  their 
road  was  a  mere  rambla,  or  dry  bed  of  a  torrent,  cut  deep 
into  the  mountain  and  filled  with  their  shattered  fragments. 
These  barrancos  and  ramblas  were  overhung  by  immense  cliffs 
and  precipices;  forming  the  lurking-places  of  ambuscades, 
du^feig  the  wars  between  the  Moors  and  Spaniards,  as  in  after- 
times  they  have  become  the  favorite  haunts  of  robbers  to  way 
lay  the  unfortunate  traveller. 

As  the  sun  went  down,  the  cavaliers  came  to  a  lofty  part  of 
the  mountains,  commanding  to  the  right  a  distant  glimpse  of 
a  part  of  the  fair  vega  of  Malaga,  with  the  blue  Mediterranean 
beyond,  and  they  hailed  it  with  exultation,  as  a  glimpse  of 
the  promised  land.  As  the  night  closed  in,  they  reached  the 
chain  of  little  valleys  and  hamlets,  locked  up  among  these 
rocky  heights,  and  known  among  the  Moors  by  the  name  of 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  57 

the  Axarquia.  Here  their  vaunting  hopes  were  destined  to 
meet  with  the  first  disappointment.  The  inhabitants  had 
heard  of  their  approach ;  they  had  conveyed  away  their  cattle 
and  effects,  and,  with  their  wives  and  children,  had  taken 
refuge  in  the  towers  and  fastnesses  of  the  mountains. 

Enraged  at  their  disappointment,  the  troop  set  fire  to  the 
deserted  houses,  and  pressed  forward,  hoping  for  better  for 
tune  as  they  advanced.  Don  Alonzo  de  Aguilar,  and  the  other 
cavaliers  in  the  vanguard,  spread  out  their  forces  to  lay  waste 
the  country;  capturing  a  few  lingering  herds  of  cattle,  with 
the  Moorish  peasants  who  were  driving  them  to  some  place  of 
safety. 

While  this  marauding  party  carried  fire  and  sword  in  the 
advance,  and  lit  up  the  mountain  cliffs  with  the  flames  of  the 
hamlets,  the  Master  of  Santiago,  who  brought  up  the  rear 
guard,  maintained  strict  order,  keeping  his  knights  together  in 
martial  array,  ready  for  attack  or  defence,  should  an  enemy- 
appear.  The  men-at-arms  of  the  Holy  Brotherhood  attempted 
to  roam  in  quest  of  booty ;  but  he  called  them  back,  and  re 
buked  them  severely. 

At  length  they  came  to  a  part  of  the  mountain  completely 
broken  up  by  barrancos  and  ramblas,  of  vast  depth,  and  shag 
ged  with  rocks  and  precipices.  It  was  impossible  to  maintain 
the  order  of  march ;  the  horses  had  no  room  for  action,  and 
were  scarcely  manageable,  having  to  scramble  from  rock  to 
rock,  and  up  and  down  frightful  declivities,  where  there  was 
scarce  footing  for  a  mountain  goat.  Passing  by  a  burning  vil 
lage,  the  light  of  the  flames  revealed  their  perplexed  situation. 
The  Moors,  who  had  taken  refuge  in  a  watch-tower  on  an  im 
pending  height,  shouted  with  exultation,  when  they  looked 
down  upon  these  glistening  cavaliers  struggling  and  stumbling 
among  the  rocks.  Sallying  forth  from  their  tower,  they  took 
possession  of  the  cliffs  which  overhung  the  ravine,  and  hurled 
darts  and  stones  upon  the  enemy.  It  was  with  the  utmost 
grief  of  heart  that  the  good  Master  of  Santiago  beheld  his 
brave  men  falling  like  helpless  victims  around  him,  without 
the  means  of  resistance  or  revenge.  The  confusion  of  his  fol 
lowers  was  increased  by  the  shouts  of  the  Moors,  multiplied  by 
the  echoes  of  every  crag  and  cliff,  as  if  they  were  surrounded 
by  innumerable  foes.  Being  entirely  ignorant  of  the  country, 
in  their  struggles  to  extricate  themselves  they  plunged  into 
other  glens  and  defiles,  where  they  were  still  more  exposed 
to  danger.  In  this  extremity,  the  Master  of  Santiago  dis- 


58  \TI1E  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

patched  messengers  in  search  of  succor.  The  marques  of 
Cadiz,  like  a  loyal  companion  in  arms,  hastened  to  his  aid 
with  his  cavalry;  his  approach  checked  the  assaults  of  the 
enemy,  and  the  Master  was  at  length  enabled  to  extricate  his 
troops  from,  the  defile. 

In  the  mean  time,  Don  Alonzo  de  Aguilar  and  his  compan 
ions,  in  their  eager  advance,  had  likewise  got  entangled  in 
deep  glens,  and  the  dry  beds  of  torrents,  where  they  had  been 
severely  galled  by  the  insulting  attacks  of  a  handful  of  Moor 
ish  peasants,  posted  on  the  impending  precipices.  The  proud 
spirit  of  De  Aguilar  was  incensed  at  having  the  game  of  war 
thus  turned  upon  him,  and  his  gallant  forces  domineered  over 
by  mountain  boors,  whom  he  had  thought  to  drive,  like  their 
own  cattle,  to  Antiquera.  Hearing,  however,  that  his  friend 
the  marques  of  Cadiz,  and  the  Master  of  Santiago,  were  en 
gaged  with  the  enemy,  he  disregarded  his  own  danger,  and, 
calling  together  his  troops,  returned  to  assist  them,  or  rather 
to  partake  their  perils.  Being  once  more  assembled  together, 
the  cavaliers  held  a  hasty  council,  amidst  the  hurling  of  stones 
and  the  whistling  of  arrows ;  and  their  resolves  were  quick 
ened  by  the  sight,  from  time  to  time,  of  some  gallant  compan 
ion  in  arms  laid  low.  They  determined  that  there  was  no 
spoil  in  this  part  of  the  country,  to  repay  for  the  extraordi 
nary  peril ;  and  that  it  was  better  to  abandon  the  herds  they 
had  already  taken,  which  only  embarrassed  their  march,  and 
to  retreat  with  all  speed  to  less  dangerous  ground. 

The  adalides,  or  guides,  were  ordered  to  lead  the  way  out 
of  this  place  of  carnage.  These,  thinking  to  conduct  them  by 
the  most  secure  route,  led  them  by  a  steep  and  rocky  pass, 
difficult  for  the  foot-soldiers,  but  almost  impracticable  to  the 
cavalry.  It  was  overhung  with  precipices,  from  whence 
showers  of  stones  and  arrows  were  poured  upon  them,  ac 
companied  by  savage  yells,  which  appalled  the  stoutest  heart. 
In  some  places,  they  could  pass  but  one  at  a  time,  and  were 
often  transpierced,  horse  and  rider,  by  the  Moorish  darts,  im 
peding  the  progress  of  their  comrades  by  their  dying  strug 
gles.  The  surrounding  precipices  were  lit  up  by  a  thousand 
alarm-fires ;  every  crag  and  cliff  had  its  flame,  by  the  light  of 
which  they  beheld  their  foes,  bounding  from  rock  to  rock,  and 
looking  more  like  fiends  than  mortal  men. 

Either  through  terror  and  confusion,  or  through  real  igno 
rance  of  the  country,  their  guides,  instead  of  conducting  them 
out  of  the  mountains,  led  them  deeper  into  their  fatal  recesses. 


TEE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  59 

The  morning  dawned  upon  them  in  a  narrow  rambla,  its  bot 
tom  formed  of  broken  rocks,  where  once  had  raved  along  the 
mountain  torrent ;  while  above,  there  beetled  great  arid  cliff s, 
over  the  brows  of  which  they  beheld  the  turbaned  heads  of 
their  fierce  and  exulting  foes.  What  a  diiferent  appearance 
did  the  unfortunate  cavaliers  present,  from  that  of  the  gallant 
band  that  marched  so  vauntingly  out  of  Antiquera !  Covered 
with  dust,  and  blood,  and  wounds,  and  haggard  with  fatigue 
and  horror,  they  looked  like  victims  rather  than  like  warriors. 
Many  of  their  banners  were  lost,  and  not  a  trumpet  was  heard 
to  rally  up  their  sinking  spirits.  The  men  turned  with  im 
ploring  eyes  to  their  commanders;  while  the  hearts  of  the 
cavaliers  were  ready  to  burst  with  rage  and  grief,  at  the 
merciless  havoc  made  among  their  faithful  followers. 

All  day,  they  made  ineffectual  attempts  to  extricate  them 
selves  from  the  mountains.  Columns  of  smoke  rose  from  the 
heights,  where,  in  the  preceding  night,  had  blazed  the  alarm- 
fire.  The  mountaineers  assembled  from  every  direction ;  they 
swarmed  at  every  pass,  getting  in  the  advance  of  the  Chris 
tians,  and  garrisoning  the  cliffs  like  so  many  towers  and  battle 
ments. 

Night  closed  again  upon  the  Christians,  when  they  were  shut 
up  in  a  narrow  valley  traversed  by  a  deep  stream,  and  sur 
rounded  by  precipices  which  seemed  to  reach  the  skies,  and  on 
which  blazed  and  flared  the  alarm-fires.  Suddenly  a  new  cry 
was  heard  resounding  along  the  valley :  "  El  Zagal !  El  Zagal !" 
echoed  from  cliff  to  cliff.  "  What  cry  is  that?"  said  the  Mas 
ter  of  Santiago.  "  It  is  the  war-cry  of  El  Zagal,  the  Moorish 
general,"  said  an  old  Castilian  soldier:  "  he  must  be  coming  in 
person,  with  the  troops  of  Malaga." 

The  worthy  Master  turned  to  his  knights:  "Let  us  die,"  said 
he,  ' '  making  a  road  with  our  hearts,  since  we  cannot  with  our 
swords.  Let  us  scale  the  mountain,  and  sell  our  lives  dearly, 
instead  of  staying  here  to  be  tamely  butchered." 

So  saying,  he  turned  his  steed  against  the  mountain,  and 
spurred  him  up  its  flinty  side.  Horse  and  foot  followed  his 
example,  eager,  if  they  could  not  escape,  to  have  at  least  a 
dying  blow  at  the  enemy.  As  they  struggled  up  the  height,  a 
tremendous  storm  of  darts  and  stones  was  showered  upon 
them  by  the  Moors.  Sometimes  a  fragment  of  rock  came 
bounding  and  thundering  down,  ploughing  its  way  through  the 
centre  of  their  host.  The  foot-soldiers,  faint  with  weariness 
and  hunger,  or  crippled  by  wounds,  held  by  the  tails  and 


60  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

manes  of  the  horses  to  aid  them  in  their  ascent;  while  the 
horses,  losing  their  foothold  among  the  loose  stones,  or  re 
ceiving  some  sudden  wound,  tumbled  down  the  steep  declivity, 
steed,  rider,  and  soldier,  rolling  from  crag  to  crag,  until  they 
were  dashed  to  pieces  in  the  valley.  In  this  desperate  strug 
gle,  the  alferez  or  standard-bearer  of  the  Master,  with  his 
standard,  was  lost;  as  were  many  of  his  relations  and  his 
dearest  friends.  At  length  he  succeeded  in  attaining  the  crest 
of  the  mountain ;  but  it  was  only  to  be  plunged  in  new  diffi 
culties.  A  wilderness  of  rocks  and  rugged  dells  lay  before 
him,  beset  by  cruel  foes.  Having  neither  banner  nor  trumpet 
by  which  to  rally  his  troops,  they  wandered  apart,  each  intent 
upon  saving  himself  from  the  precipices  of  the  mountains,  and 
the  darts  of  the  enemy.  When  the  pious  Master  of  Santiago 
beheld  the  scattered  fragments  of  his  late  gallant  force,  he 
could  not  restrain  his  grief .  "O  God!"  exclaimed  he,  "great 
is  thine  anger  this  day  against  thy  servants.  Thou  hast  con 
verted  the  cowardice  of  these  infidels  into  desperate  valor,  and 
hast  made  peasants  and  boors  victorious  over  armed  men  of 
battle." 

He  would  fain  have  kept  with  his  foot-soldiers,  and,  gather 
ing  them  together,  have  made  head  against  the  enemy;  but 
those  around  him  entreated  him  to  think  only  of  his  personal 
safety.  To  remain  was  to  perish,  without  striking  a  blow ; 
to  escape  was  to  preserve  a  life  that  might  be  devoted  to  ven 
geance  on  the  Moors.  The  Master  reluctantly  yielded  to  the 
advice.  "O  Lord  of  hosts!"  exclaimed  he  again,  "from  thy 
wrath  do  I  fly ;  not  from  these  infidels ;  they  are  but  instru 
ments  in  thy  hands,  to  chastise  us  for  our  sins."  So  saying, 
he  sent  the  guides  in  the  advance,  and  putting  spurs  to  his 
horse,  dashed  through  a  defile  of  the  mountains,  before  the 
Moors  could  intercept  him.  The  moment  the  Master  put  his 
horse  to  speed,  his  troops  scattered  in  all  directions.  Some 
endeavored  to  follow  his  traces,  but  were  confounded  among 
the  intricacies  of  the  mountain.  They  fled  hither  and  thither, 
many  perishing  among  the  precipices,  others  being  slain  by 
the  Moors,  and  others  taken  prisoners. 

The  gallant  marques  of  Cadiz,  guided  by  his  trusty  adalid, 
Luis  Amar,  had  ascended  a  different  part  of  the  mountain. 
He  was  followed  by  his  friend,  Don  Alonzo  de  Aguilar,  the 
adelantado,  and  the  count  of  Cif uentes ;  but,  in  the  darkness 
and  confusion,  the  bands  of  these  commanders  became  sepa 
rated  from  each  other.  When  the  marques  attained  the  sum 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  61 

mit,  he  looked  around  for  his  companions  in  arms,  out  they 
were  no  longer  following  him,  and  there  was  no  trumpet  to 
summon  them.  It  was  a  consolation  to  the  marques,  however, 
that  his  brothers,  and  several  of  his  relations,  with  a  number 
of  his  retainers,  were  still  with  him :  he  called  his  brothers  by 
name,  and  their  replies  gave  comfort  to  his  heart. 

His  guide  now  led  the  way  into  another  valley,  where  he 
would  be  less  exposed  to  danger :  when  he  had  reached  the 
Jx  ttom  of  it,  the  marques  paused  to  collect  Ms  scattered  fol 
lowers,  and  to  give  time  for  his  fellow-commanders  to  rejoin 
him.  Here  he  was  suddenly  assailed  by  the  troops  of  El 
Zagal,  aided  by  the  mountaineers  from  the  cliffs.  The  Chris 
tians,  exhausted  and  terrified,  lost  all  presence  of  mind :  most 
of  them  fled,  and  were  either  slain  or  taken  captive.  The 
marques  and  his  valiant  brothers,  with  a  few  tried  friends, 
made  a  stout  resistance.  His  horse  was  killed  under  him ;  his 
brothers,  Don  Diego  and  Don  Lope,  with  his  two  nephews,  Don 
Lorenzo  and  Don  Manuel,  were  one  by  one  swept  from  his 
side,  either  transfixed  with  darts  and  lances  by  the  soldiers  of 
El  Zagal,  or  crushed  by  stones  from  the  heights.  The  mar 
ques  was  a  veteran  warrior,  and  had  been  in  many  a  bloody 
battle ;  but  never  before  had  death  fallen  so  thick  and  close 
around  him.  When  he  saw  his  remaining  brother,  Don  Bel- 
tram,  struck  out  of  his  saddle  by  a  fragment  of  a  rock,  and  his 
horse  running  wildly  about  without  his  rider,  he  gave  a  cry  of 
anguish,  and  stood  bewildered  and  aghast.  A  few  faithful 
followers  surrounded  him,  and  entreated  him  to  fly  for  his  life. 
He  would  still  have  remained,  to  have  shared  the  fortunes  of 
his  friend  Don  Alonzo  de  Aguilar,  and  his  other  companions  in 
arms ;  but  the  forces  of  El  Zagal  were  between  him  and  them, 
and  death  was  whistling  by  on  every  wind.  Reluctantly, 
therefore,  he  consented  to  fly.  Another  horse  was  brought 
him:  his  faithful  adalid  guided  him  by  one  of  the  steepest 
paths,  which  lasted  for  four  leagues ;  the  enemy  still  hanging 
on  his  traces,  and  thinning  the  scanty  ranks  of  his  followers. 
At  length  the  marques  reached  the  extremity  of  the  mountain 
defiles,  and,  with  a  haggard  remnant  of  his  men,  escaped  by 
dint  of  hoof  to  Antiquera. 

The  count  of  Cifuentes,  with  a  few  of  his  retainers,  in  at 
tempting  to  follow  the  marques  of  Cadiz,  wandered  into  a 
narrow  pass,  where  they  were  completely  surrounded  by  the 
band  of  El  Zagal.  Finding  all  attempts  at  escape  impossible, 
and  resistance  vain,  the  worthy  count  surrendered  himself 


62         THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

prisoner,  as  did  also  his  brother  Don  Pedro  de  Silva,  and  the 
few  of  his  retainers  who  survived. 

The  dawn  of  day  found  Don  Alonzo  de  Aguilar,  with  a  hand 
ful  of  his  followers,  still  among  the  mountains.  They  had 
attempted  to  follow  the  marques  of  Cadiz,  but  had  been  obliged 
to  pause  and  defend  themselves  against  the  thickening  forces 
of  the  enemy.  They  at  length  traversed  the  mountain,  and 
reached  the  same  valley  where  the  marques  had  made  his  last 
disastrous  stand.  Wearied  and  perplexed,  they  sheltered 
themselves  in  a  natural  grotto,  under  an  overhanging  rock, 
which  kept  off  the  darts  of  the  enemy ;  while  a  bubbling  foun 
tain  gave  them  the  means  of  slaking  their  raging  thirst,  and 
refreshing  their  exhausted  steeds.  As  day  broke,  the  scene  of 
slaughter  unfolded  its  horrors.  There  lay  the  noble  brothers 
and  nephews  of  the  gallant  marques,  transfixed  with  darts,  or 
gashed  and  bruised  with  unseemly  wounds ;  while  many  other 
gallant  cavaliers  lay  stretched  out  dead  and  dying  around, 
some  of  them  partly  stripped  and  plundered  by  the  Moors.  De 
Aguilar  was  a  pious  knight,  but  his  piety  was  not  humble 
and  resigned,  like  that  of  the  worthy  Master  of  Santiago.  He 
imprecated  holy  curses  upon  the  infidels,  for  having  thus  laid 
low  the  flower  of  Christian  chivalry;  and  he  vowed  in  his 
heart  bitter  vengeance  upon  the  surrounding  country. 

By  degrees,  the  little  force  of  De  Aguilar  was  augmented  by 
numbers  of  fugitives,  who  issued  from  caves  and  chasms, 
where  they  had  taken  refuge  in  the  night.  A  little  band  of 
mounted  knights  was  gradually  formed ;  and  the  Moors  having 
abandoned  the  heights  to  collect  the  spoils  of  the  slain,  this 
gallant  but  forlorn  squadron  was  enabled  to  retreat  to  An- 
tiquera. 

This  disastrous  affair  lasted  from  Thursday  evening,  through 
out  Friday,  the  twenty -first  of  March,  the  festival  of  St.  Bene 
dict.  It  is  still  recorded  in  Spanish  calendars,  as  the  defeat  of 
the  mountains  of  Malaga;  and  the  spot  where  the  greatest 
slaughter  took  place,  is  pointed  out  to  the  present  day,  and  is 
called  la  Cuesta  de  la  Matanza,  or  The  Hill  of  the  Massacre. 
The  principal  leaders  who  survived,  returned  to  Antiquera. 
Many  of  the  knights  took  refuge  in  Alhama,  and  other  towns ; 
many  wandered  about  the  mountains  for  eight  days,  living  on 
roots  and  herbs,  hiding  themselves  during  the  day,  and  sally 
ing  forth  at  night.  So  enfeebled  and  disheartened  were  they, 
that  they  offered  no  resistance  if  attacked.  Three  or  four 
soldiers  would  surrender  to  a  Moorish  peasant ;  and  even  the 


THls  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  63 

women  of  Malaga  sallied  forth  and  made  prisoners.  Some 
were  thrown  into  the  dungeons  of  frontier  towns,  others  led 
captive  to  Granada ;  but  by  far  the  greater  number  were  con 
ducted  to  Malaga,  the  city  they  had  threatened  to  attack.  Two 
hundred  and  fifty  principal  cavaliers,  alcaydes,  commanders, 
and  hidalgos,  of  generous  blood,  were  confined  in  the  Alcazaba, 
or  citadel  of  Malaga,  to  await  their  ransom ;  and  five  hundred 
and  seventy  of  the  common  soldiery  were  crowded  in  an  en 
closure  or  court-yard  of  the  Alcazaba,  to  be  sold  as  slaves.* 

Great  spoils  were  collected  of  splendid  armor  and  weapons 
taken  from  the  slain,  or  thrown  away  by  the  cavaliers  in  their 
flight;  and  many  horses,  magnificently  caparisoned,  together 
with  numerous  standards — all  which  were  paraded  in  triumph 
in  the  Moorish  towns. 

The  merchants  also,  who  had  come  with  the  army,  intending 
to  traffic  in  the  spoils  of  the  Moors,  were  themselves  made 
objects  of  traffic.  Several  of  them  were  driven  like  cattle, 
before  the  Moorish  viragos,  to  the  market  of  Malaga ;  and  in 
spite  of  all  their  adroitness  in  trade,  and  their  attempts  to  buy 
themselves  off  at  a  cheap  ransom,  they  were  unable  to  pur 
chase  their  freedom  without  such  draughts  upon  their  money 
bags  at  home,  as  drained  them  to  the  very  bottom. 


CHAPTEE   XIII. 

EFFECTS  OF  THE  DISASTERS  AMONG  THE  MOUNTAINS  OF  MALAGA. 

THE  people  of  Antiquera  had  scarcely  recovered  from  the 
tumult  of  excitement  and  admiration,  caused  by  the  departure 
of  the  gallant  band  of  cavaliers  upon  their  foray,  w^hen  they 
beheld  the  scattered  wrecks  flying  for  refuge  to  their  walls. 
Day  after  day,  and  hour  after  hour,  brought  some  wretched 
fugitive,  in  whose  battered  plight,  and  haggard,  wobegone  de 
meanor,  it  was  almost  impossible  to  recognize  the  warrior 
whom  they  had  lately  seen  to  issue  so  gaily  and  gloriously 
from  their  gates. 

The  arrival  of  the  marques  of  Cadiz,  almost  alone,  covered 
with  dust  and  blood,  his  armor  shattered  and  defaced,  his  coun- 

*  Cura  de  los  Palacios. 


64  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

tenance  the  picture  of  despair,  filled  every  heart  with  sorrow, 
for  he  was  greatly  beloved  by  the  people.  The  multitude  asked 
where  was  the  band  of  brothers  which  had  rallied  round  him 
as  he  went  forth  to  the  field ;  and  when  they  heard  that  they 
had,  one  by  one,  been  slaughtered  at  his  side,  they  hushed 
their  voices,  or  spake  to  each  other  only  in  whispers  as  he 
passed,  gazing  at  him  in  silent  sympathy.  No  one  attempted 
to  console  him  in  so  great  an  affliction,  nor  did  the  good  mar 
ques  speak  ever  a  word,  but,  shutting  himself  up,  brooded  in 
lonely  anguish  over  his  misfortune.  It  was  only  the  arrival  of 
Don  Alonzo  de  Aguilar  that  gave  him  a  gleam  of  consolation, 
for  amidst  the  shafts  of  death  that  had  fallen  so  thickly  among 
his  family,  he  rejoiced  to  find  that  his  chosen  friend  and 
brother  in  arms  had  escaped  uninjured. 

For  several  days  every  eye  was  turned,  in  an  agony  ol  sus 
pense,  towards  the  Moorish  border,  anxiously  looking,  in  every 
fugitive  from  the  mountains,  for  the  lineaments  of  some  friend 
or  relation,  whose  fate  was  yet  a  mystery.  At  length  every 
hope  and  doubt  subsided  into  certainty ;  the  whole  extent  of  this 
great  calamity  was  known,  spreading  grief  and  consternation 
throughout  the  land,  and  laying  desolate  the  pride  and  hopes 
of  palaces.  It  was  a  sorrow  that  visited  the  marble  hall  and 
silken  pillow.  Stately  dames  mourned  over  the  loss  of  their 
sons,  the  joy  and  glory  of  their  age ;  and  many  a  fair  cheek 
was  blanched  with  wo,  that  had  lately  mantled  with  secret 
admiration.  "All  Andalusia,"  says  a  historian  of  the  time, 
"was  overwhelmed  by  a  great  affliction;  there  was  no  drying 
oi;  the  eyes  which  wept  in  her. "  * 

Fear  and  trembling  reigned,  for  a  time,  along  the  frontier. 
Their  spear  seemed  broken,  their  buckler  cleft  in  twain ;  every 
border  town  dreaded  an  attack,  and  the  mother  caught  her 
infant  to  her  bosom  when  the  watch-dog  howled  in  the  night, 
fancying  it  the  war-cry  of  the  Moor.  All,  for  a  time,  seemed 
lost ;  and  despondency  even  found  its  way  to  the  royal  breasts 
of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  amidst  the  splendors  of  their  court. 

Great,  on  the  other  hand,  was  the  joy  of  the  Moors,  when 
they  saw  whole  legions  of  Christian  warriors  brought  captive 
into  their  towns,  by  rude  mountain  peasantry.  They  thought 
it  the  work  of  Allah  in  favor  of  the  faithful.  But  when  they 
recognized,  among  the  captives  thus  dejected  and  broken  down, 
some  of  the  proudest  of  Christian  chivalry;  when  they  saw 

*  Cura  de  los  Palacioe. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  65 

several  of  the  banners  and  devices  of  the  noblest  houses  of 
Spain,  which  they  had  been  accustomed  to  behold  in  the  fore 
most  of  the  battle,  now  trailed  ignominiously  through  their 
streets ;  when,  in  short,  they  witnessed  the  arrival  of  the  count 
of  Cifuentes,  the  royal  standard-bearer  of  Spain,  with  his  gal 
lant  brother  Don  Pedro  de  Silva,  brought  prisoners  into  the 
gates  of  Granada,  there  were  no  bounds  to  their  exultation. 
They  thought  that  the  days  of  their  ancient  glory  were  about 
to  return,  and  that  they  were  to  renew  their  career  of  triumph 
over  the  unbelievers. 

The  Christian  historians  of  the  time  are  sorely  perplexed  to 
account  for  this  misfortune;  and  why  so  many  Christian 
knights,  fighting  in  the  cause  of  the  holy  faith,  should  thus 
miraculously,  as  it  were,  be  given  captive  to  a  handful  of  infidel 
boors ;  for  we  are  assured,  that  all  this  rout  and  destruction 
was  effected  by  five  hundred  foot  and  fifty  horse,  and  those 
mere  mountaineers,  without  science  or  discipline.*  "It  was 
intended,"  observes  one  historiographer,  "as  a  lesson  to  their 
confidence  and  vain-glory ;  overrating  their  own  prowess,  and 
thinking  that  so  chosen  a  band  of  chivalry  had  but  to  appear 
in  the  land  of  the  enemy,  and  conquer.  It  was  to  teach  them 
that  the  race  is  not  to  the  swift,  nor  the  battle  to  the  strong, 
but  that  God  alone  giveth  the  victory." 

The  worthy  father  Fray  Antonio  Agapida,  however,  asserts 
it  to  be  a  punishment  for  the  avarice  of  the  Spanish  warriors. 
They  did  not  enter  the  kingdom  of  the  infidels  with  the  pure 
spirit  of  Christian  knights,  zealous  only  for  the. glory  of  the 
faith,  but  rather  as  greedy  men  of  traffic,  to  enrich  themselves 
by  vending  the  spoils  of  the  infidels.  Instead  of  preparing 
themselves  by  confession  and  communion,  and  executing  their 
testaments,  and  making  donations  and  bequests  to  churches 
and  convents,  they  thought  only  of  arranging  bargains  and 
sales  of  their  anticipated  booty.  Instead  of  taking  with  them 
holy  monks  to  aid  them  with  their  prayers,  they  were  followed 
by  a  train  of  trading  men,  to  keep  alive  their  worldly  and 
sordid  ideas,  and  to  turn  what  ought  to  be  holy  triumphs  into 
scenes  of  brawling  traffic.  Such  is  the  opinion  of  the  excellent 
Agapida,  in  which  he  is  joined  by  that  most  worthy  and  up 
right  of  chroniclers,  the  curate  of  Los  Palacios.  Agapida 
comforts  himself,  however,  with  the  reflection,  that  this  visi 
tation  was  meant  in  mercy,  to  try  the  Castilian  heart,  and  to 

t  Cura  de  los  Palacios. 


66  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

extract,  from  its  present  humiliation,  the  elements  of  future 
success,  as  gold  is  extracted  from  amidst  the  impurities  of 
earth ;  and  in  this  reflection  he  is  supported  by  the  venerable 
historian  Pedro  Abarca,  of  the  society  of  Jesuits.* 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

HOW  KING  BOABDIL  EL  CHICO  MARCHED  OVER  THE  BORDER. 

THE  defeat  of  the  Christian  cavaliers  among  the  mountains 
of  Malaga,  and  the  successful  inroad  of  Muley  Aben  Hassan 
into  the  lands  of  Medina  Sidonia,  had  produced  a  favorable 
effect  on  the  fortunes  of  the  old  monarch.  The  inconstant 
populace  began  to  shout  forth  his  name  in  the  streets,  and  to 
sneer  at  the  inactivity  of  his  son  Boabdil  el  Chico.  The  latter, 
though  in  the  flower  of  his  age,  and  distinguished  for  vigor  and 
dexterity  in  jousts  and  tournaments,  had  never  yet  fleshed  his 
weapon  in  the  field  of  battle ;  and  it  was  murmured  that  he 
preferred  the  silken  repose  of  the  cool  halls  of  the  Alhambra, 
to  the  fatigue  and  danger  of  the  foray,  and  the  hard  encamp 
ments  of  the  mountains. 

The  popularity  of  these  rival  kings  depended  upon  their  suc 
cess  against  the  Christians,  and  Boabdil  el  Chico  found  it  neces 
sary  to  strike  some  signal  blow  to  counterbalance  the  late 
triumph  of  his  father.  He  was  further  incited  by  the  fierce 
old  Moor,  his  father  in-law,  Ali  Atar,  alcayde  of  Loxa,  with 
whom  the  coals  of  wrath  against  the  Christians  still  burned 
among  the  ashes  of  age,  and  had  lately  been  blown  into  a  flame 
by  the  attack  made  by  Ferdinand  on  the  city  under  his  com 
mand. 

Ali  Atar  informed  Boabdil  that  the  late  discomfiture  of  the 
Christian  knights  had  stripped  Andalusia  of  the  prime  of  her 
chivalry,  and  broken  the  spirit  of  the  country.  All  the  frontier 
of  Cordova  and  Ecija  now  lay  open  to  inroad ;  but  he  especially 
pointed  out  the  city  of  Lucena  as  an  object  of  attack,  being 
feebly  garrisoned,  and  lying  in  a  country  rich  in  pasturage, 
abounding  in  cattle  and  grain,  in  oil  and  wine.  The  fiery  old 
Moor  spoke  from  thorough  information ;  for  he  had  made  many 

*  Abarca.    Annales  de  Aragon,  Rey  30,  cap.  2,  §  7. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  67 

an  incursion  into  these  parts,  and  his  very  name  was  a  terror 
throughout  the  country.  It  had  become  a  by-word  in  the 
garrison  of  Loxa  to  call  Lucena  the  garden  of  Ali  Atar,  for  he 
was  accustomed  to  forage  its  fertile  territories  for  all  his  sup 
plies. 

Boabdil  el  Chico  listened  to  the  persuasions  of  this  veteran 
of  the  borders.  He  assembled  a  force  of  nine  thousand  foot 
and  seven  hundred  horse,  most  of  them  his  own  adherents, 
but  many  the  partisans  of  his  father ;  for  both  factions,  how 
ever  they  might  fight  among  themselves,  were  ready  to  unite 
in  any  expedition  against  the  Christians.  Many  of  the  most 
illustrious  and  valiant  of  the  Moorish  nobility  assembled  round 
his  standard,  magnificently  arrayed  in  sumptuous  armor  and 
rich  embroidery,  as  though  they  were  going  to  a  festival  or  a 
tilt  of  canes,  rather  than  an  enterprise  of  iron  war.  Boabdil's 
mother,  the  sultana  Ayxafla  Horra,  armed  him  for  the  field, 
and  gave  him  her  benediction  as  she  girded  his  scimitar  to  his 
side.  His  favorite  wife  Morayma  wept,  as  she  thought  of  the 
evils  that  might  befall  him.  "Why  dost  thou  weep,  daughter 
of  Ali  Atar  ?"  said  the  high-minded  Ayxa:  "  these  tears  become 
not  the  daughter  of  a  warrior,  nor  the  wife  of  a  king.  Believe 
me,  there  lurks  more  danger  for  a  monarch  within  the  strong 
walls  of  a  palace,  than  within  the  frail  curtains  of  a  tent.  It 
is  by  perils  in  the  field,  that  thy  husband  must  purchase  secu 
rity  on  his  throne." 

But  Morayma  still  hung  upon  his  neck,  with  tears  and  sad 
forebodings ;  and  when  he  departed  from  the  Alhambra,  she 
betook  herself  to  her  mirador,  which  looks  out  over  the  vega. 
From  thence  she  watched  the  army,  as  it  went,  in  shining 
order,  along  the  road  which  leads  to  Loxa ;  and  every  burst 
of  warlike  melody  that  came  swelling  on  the  breeze,  was  an 
swered  by  a  gush  of  sorrow. 

As  the  royal  cavalcade  issued  from  the  palace  and  descended 
through  the  streets  of  Granada,  the  populace  greeted  their 
youthful  sovereign  with  shouts,  and  anticipated  success  that 
should  wither  the  laurels  of  his  father.  In  passing  through 
the  gate  of  Elvira,  however,  the  king  accidentally  broke  his 
lance  against  the  arch.  At  this,  certain  of  his  nobles  turned 
pale,  and  entreated  him  to  turn  back,  for  they  regarded  it  as 
an  evil  omen.  Boabdil  scoffed  at  their  fears,  for  he  considered 
them  mere  idle  fancies;  or  rather,  (says  Fray  Antonio  Aga- 
pida,)  he  was  an  incredulous  pagan,  puffed  up  with  confidence 
and  vain-glory.  He  roftitxxl  to  take  another  spear,  but  drew 


68  THE  QQNQnmT  OF  GRANADA. 

forth  his  scimitar,  and  led  the  way  (adds  Agapida)  in  an  arro 
gant  and  haughty  style,  as  though  he  would  set  both  heaven 
and  earth  at  defiance.  Another  evil  omen  was  sent,  to  deter 
him  from  his  enterprise ;  arriving  at  the  rambla,  or  dry  ravine 
of  Beyro,  which  is  scarcely  a  bow-shot  from  the  city,  a  fox  ran 
through  the  whole  army,  and  close  by  the  person  of  the  king ; 
and,  though  a  thousand  bolts  were  discharged  at  it,  escaped 
uninjured  to  the  mountains.  The  principal  courtiers  about 
Boabdil  now  reiterated  their  remonstrances  against  proceed 
ing  ;  for  they  considered  these  occurrences  as  mysterious  por 
tents  of  disasters  to  their  army ;  the  king,  however,  was  not  to 
be  dismayed,  but  continued  to  march  forward.* 

At  Loxa,  the  royal  army  was  reinforced  by  old  Ali  Atar, 
with  the  chosen  horsemen  of  his  garrison,  and  many  of  the 
bravest  warriors  of  the  border  towns.  The  people  of  Loxa 
shouted  with  exultation,  when  they  beheld  Ali  Atar,  armed 
at  all  points,  and  once  more  mounted  on  his  Barbary  steed, 
which  had  often  borne  him  over  the  borders.  The  veteran 
warrior,  with  nearly  a  century  of  years  upon  his  head,  had  all 
the  fire  and  animation  of  youth,  at  the  prospect  of  a  foray,  and 
careered  from  rank  to  rank  with  the  velocity  of  an  Arab  of 
the  desert.  The  populace  watched  the  army,  as  it  paraded 
over  the  bridge,  and  wound  into  the  passes  of  the  mountains ; 
and  still  their  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  pennon  of  Ali  Atar,  as 
if  it  bore  with  it  an  assurance  of  victory. 

The  Moorish  army  entered  the  Christian  frontier  by  forced 
marches,  hastily  ravaging  the  country,  driving  off  the  flocks 
and  herds,  and  making  captives  of  the  inhabitants.  They 
pressed  on  furiously,  and  made  the  latter  part  of  their  march 
in  the  night,  that  they  might  elude  observation,  and  come  upon 
Lucena  by  surprise.  Boabdil  was  inexperienced  in  the  art  of 
war,  but  he  had  a  veteran  counsellor  in  his  old  father-in-law ; 
for  Ali  Atar  knew  every  secret  of  the  country,  and,  as  he 
prowled  through  it,  his  eye  ranged  over  the  land,  uniting,  in 
its  glare,  the  craft  of  the  fox  with  the  sanguinary  ferocity  of 
the  wolf.  He  had  flattered  himself  that  their  march  had  been 
so  rapid  as  to  outstrip  intelligence,  and  that  Lucena  would 
be  an  easy  capture ;  when  suddenly  he  beheld  alarm-fires  blaz 
ing  upon  the  mountains.  "We  are  discovered,"  said  he  to 
Boabdil  el  Chico;  "the  country  will  be  up  in  arms;  we  have 
nothing  left  but  to  strike  boldly  for  Lucena;  it  is  but  slightly 

*  Marmol.    Rebel,  cle  los  Moros,  lib.  1,  c.  xii.  fol.  14. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  69 

garrisoned,  and  we  may  carry  it  by  assault  before  it  can  re 
ceive  assistance."  The  king  approved  of  his  counsel,  and  they 
marched  rapidly  for  the  gate  of  Lucena. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

HOW  THE  COUNT  DE  CABRA    SALLIED   FORTH   FROM    HIS    CASTLE, 
IN  QUEST  OF  KING  BOABDIL. 

DON  Diego  de  Cordova,  count  of  Cabra,  was  in  the  castle  of 
Vaena,  which,  with  the  town  of  the  same  name,  is  situated  on 
a  lofty  sun-burnt  hill  on  the  frontier  of  the  kingdom  of  Cor 
dova,  and  but  a  few  leagues  from  Lucena.  The  range  of 
mountains  of  Horquera  lie  between  them.  The  castle  of 
Vaena  was  strong,  and  well  furnished  with  arms,  and  the 
count  had  a  numerous  band  of  vassals  and  retainers;  for  it 
behoved  the  noblemen  of  the  frontiers,  in  those  times,  to  be 
well  prepared  with  man  and  horse,  with  lance  and  buckler,  to 
resist  the  sudden  incursions  of  the  Moors.  The  count  of  Cabra 
was  a  hardy  and  experienced  warrior,  shrewd  in  council, 
prompt  in  action,  rapid  and  fearless  in  the  field.  He  was  one 
of  the  bravest  cavaliers  for  an  inroad,  and  had  been  quick 
ened  and  sharpened,  in  thought  and  action,  by  living  on  the 
borders. 

On  the  night  of  the  20th  of  April,  1483,  the  count  was  about 
to  retire  to  rest,  when  the  watchman  from  the  turret  brought 
him  word  that  there  were  alarm-fires  on  the  mountains  of 
Horquera,  and  that  they  were  made  on  the  signal-tower  over 
hanging  the  defile  through  which  the  road  passes  to  Cabra  and 
Lucena. 

The  count  ascended  the  battlement,  and  beheld  five  lights 
blazing  on  the  tower,— a  sign  that  there  was  a  Moorish  army 
attacking  some  place  on  the  frontier.  The  count  instantly 
ordered  the  alarm-bells  to  be  sounded,  and  dispatched  couriers 
to  rouse  the  commanders  of  the  neighboring  towns.  He 
ordered  all  his  retainers  to  prepare  for  action,  and  sent  a 
trumpet  through  the  town,  summoning  the  men  to  assemble 
at  the  castle-gate  at  daybreak,  armed  and  equipped  for  the 
field. 

Throughout  the  remainder  of  the  night,  the  castle  resounded 


70          THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

with  a  din  of  preparation.  Every  house  in  the  town  was  in 
equal  bustle ;  for  in  these  frontier  towns,  every  house  had  its 
warrior,  and  the  lance  and  buckler  were  ever  hanging  against 
the  wall,  ready  to  be  snatched  down  for  instant  service.  Noth 
ing  was  heard  but  the  din  of  armorers,  the  shoeing  of  studs, 
and  furbishing  up  of  weapons;  and,  all  night  long,  the  alarm- 
fires  kept  blazing  on  the  mountains. 

When  the  morning  dawned,  the  count  of  Cabra  sallied  forth, 
at  the  head  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  cavaliers,  of  the  best 
families  of  Vaena,  all  well  appointed,  exercised  in  arms,  and 
experienced  in  the  warfare  of  the  borders.  There  were,  be 
sides,  twelve  hundred  foot-soldiers,  all  brave  and  well  seasoned 
men  of  the  same  town.  The  count  ordered  them  to  hasten 
forward,  whoever  could  make  most  speed,  taking  the  road  to 
Cabra,  which  was  three  leagues  distant.  That  they  might  not 
loiter  on  the  road,  he  allowed  none  of  them  to  break  their  fast 
until  they  arrived  at  that  place.  The  provident  count  dis 
patched  couriers  in  advance,  and  the  little  army,  on  reaching 
Cabra,  found  tables  spread  with  food  and  refreshments,  at  the 
gates  of  the  town.  Here  they  were  joined  by  Don  Alonzo  de 
Cordova,  Senior  of  Zuheros. 

Having  made  a  hearty  repast,  they  were  on  the  point  of  re 
suming  their  march,  when  the  count  discovered,  that,  in  the 
hurry  of  his  departure  from  home,  he  had  forgotten  to  bring 
the  standard  of  Vaena,  which  for  upwards  of  eighty  years  had 
always  been  borne  to  battle  by  his  family.  It  was  now  noon, 
and  there  was  not  time  to  return ;  he  took,  therefore,  the  stan 
dard  of  Cabra,  the  device  of  which  is  a  goat,  and  which  had 
not  been  seen  in  the  wars  for  the  last  half  century.  When 
about  to  depart,  a  courier  came  galloping  at  full  speed,  bring 
ing  missives  to  the  count  from  his  nephew,  Don  Diego  Fernan 
dez  de  Cordova,  Senior  of  Lucena  and  alcayde  de  los  Donzeles, 
entreating  him  to  hasten  to  his  aid,  as  his  town  was  beset  by 
the  Moorish  king  Boabdil  el  Chico,  with  a  powerful  army,  who 
were  actually  setting  fire  to  the  gates. 

The  count  put  his  little  army  instantly  in  movement  for  Lu_- 
cena,  which  is  only  one  league  from  Cabra ;  he  was  fired  wit5 
the  idea  of  having  the  Moorish  king  in  person  to  contend  with. 
By  the  time  he  reached  Lucena,  the  Moors  had  desisted  from 
the  attack,  and  were  ravaging  the  surrounding  country.  He 
entered  the  town  with  a  few  of  his  cavaliers,  and  was  received 
with  joy  by  his  nephew,  whose  whole  force  consisted  but  of 
eighty  horse  and  three  hundred  foot.  Don  Diego  Fernandez 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  71 

de  Cordova  was  a  young  man,  yet  he  was  a  prudent,  careful, 
and  capable  officer.  Having  learnt,  the  evening  before,  that 
the  Moors  had  passed  the  frontiers,  he  had  gathered  within  his 
walls  all  the  women  and  children  from  the  environs;  had 
armed  the  men,  sent  couriers  in  all  directions  for  succor,  and 
had  lighted  alarm-fires  on  the  mountains. 

Boabdil  had  arrived  with  his  army  at  daybreak,  and  had 
sent  in  a  message  threatening  to  put  the  garrison  to  the  sword, 
if  the  place  were  not  instantly  surrendered.  The  messenger 
was  a  Moor  of  Granada,  named  Hamet,  whom  Don  Diego  had 
formerly  known :  he  contrived  to  amuse  him  with  negotiation, 
to  gain  time  for  succor  to  arrive.  The  fierce  old  Ali  Atar,  los 
ing  all  patience,  had  made  an  assault  upon  the  town,  and 
stormed  like  a  fury  at  the  gate ;  but  had  been  repulsed.  An 
other  and  more  serious  attack  was  expected,  in  the  course  of 
the  night. 

When  the  count  de  Cabra  had  heard  this  account  of  the  sit 
uation  of  affairs,  he  turned  to  his  nephew  with  his  usual  alac 
rity  of  manner,  and  proposed  that  they  should  immediately 
sally  forth  in  quest  of  the  enemy.  The  prudent  Don  Diego  re 
monstrated  at  the  rashness  of  attacking  so  great  a  force  with  a 
mere  handful  of  men.  "Nephew,"  said  the  count,  "I  came 
from  Vaena  with  a  determination  to  fight  this  Moorish  king, 
and  I  will  not  be  disappointed." 

"At  any  rate,"  replied  Don  Diego,  "let  us  wait  but  two 
hours,  and  we  shall  have  reinforcements  which  have  been 
promised  me  from  Rambla,  Santaella,  Montilla,  and  other 
places  in  the  neighborhood."  "If  we  await  these, "  said  the 
hardy  count,  "the  Moors  will  be  off,  and  all  our  trouble  will 
have  been  in  vain.  You  may  await  them,  if  you  please ;  I  am 
resolved  on  fighting." 

The  count  paused  for  no  reply ;  but,  in  his  prompt  and  rapid 
manner,  sallied  forth -to  his  men.  The  young  alcayde  de  los 
Donzeles,  though  more  prudent  than  his  ardent  uncle,  was 
equally  brave ;  he  determined  to  stand  by  him  in  his  rash  en 
terprise,  and,  summoning  his  little  force,  marched  forth  to  join 
the  count,  who  was  already  on  the  move.  They  then  pro 
ceeded  together  in  quest  of  the  enemy. 

The  Moorish  army  had  ceased  ravaging  the  country,  and 
were  not  to  be  seen,  —  the  neighborhood  being  hilly,  and 
broken  with  deep  ravines.  The  count  dispatched  six  scouts 
on  horseback  to  reconnoitre,  ordering  them  to  return  with  all 
speed  when  they  should  have  discovered  the  enemy,  and  by 


72  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

no  means  to  engage  in  skirmishing  with  stragglers.  The 
scouts,  ascending  a  high  hill,  beheld  the  Moorish  army  in  a 
valley  behind  it,  the  cavalry  ranged  in  five  battalions  keeping 
guard,  while  the  foot-soldiers  were  seated  on  the  grass  making 
a  repast.  They  returned  immediately  with  the  intelligence. 

The  count  now  ordered  the  troops  to  march  in  the  direction 
of  the  enemy.  He  and  his  nephew  ascended  the  hill,  and  saw 
that  the  five  battalions  of  Moorish  cavalry  had  been  formed 
into  two,  one  of  about  nine  hundred  lances,  the  other  of  about 
six  hundred.  The  whole  force  seemed  prepared  to  march  for 
the  frontier.  The  foot-soldiers  were  already  under  way,  with 
many  prisoners,  and  a  great  train  of  mules  and  beasts  of  bur 
den,  laden  with  booty.  At  a  distance  was  Boabdil  el  Chico : 
they  could  not  distinguish  his  person,  but  they  knew  him  by 
his  superb  white  charger,  magnificently  caparisoned,  and  by 
his  being  surrounded  by  a  numerous  guard,  sumptuously 
armed  and  attired.  Old  Ali  Atar  was  careering  about  the 
valley  with  his  usual  impatience,  hurrying  the  march  of  the 
loitering  troops. 

The  eyes  of  the  count  de  Cabra  glistened  with  eager  joy,  as 
he  beheld  the  royal  prize  within  his  reach.  The  immense  dis 
parity  of  their  forces  never  entered  into  his  mind.  ' '  By  San 
tiago  !"  said  he  to  his  nephew,  as  they  hastened  down  the  hill, 
"had  we  waited  for  more  forces,  the  Moorish  king  and  his 
army  would  have  escaped  us !" 

The  count  now  harangued  his  m0n,  to  inspirit  them  to  his 
hazardous  encounter.  He  told  them  not  to  be  dismayed  at  the 
number  of  Moors,  for  God  often  permitted  the  few  to  conquer 
the  many ;  and  he  had  great  confidence,  that,  through  the  di 
vine  aid,  they  were  that  day  to  achieve  a  signal  victory,  which 
should  win  them  both  riches  and  renown.  He  commanded 
that  no  man  should  hurl  his  lance  at  the  enemy,  but  should 
keep  it  in  his  hands,  and  strike  as  many  blows  with  it  as  he 
could.  He  warned  them,  also,  never  to  shout  except  when 
the  Moors  did ;  for,  when  both  armies  shouted  together,  there 
was  no  perceiving  which  made  the  most  noise  and  was  the 
strongest.  He  desired  his  uncle  Lope  de  Mendoza,  and  Diego 
Cabrera,  alcayde  of  Menica,  to  alight  and  enter  on  foot  in  the 
battalion  of  infantry,  to  animate  them  to  the  combat.  He 
appointed,  also,  the  alcayde  of  Vaena  and  Diego  de  Clavijo,  a 
cavalier  of  his  household,  to  remain  in  the  rear,  and  not  to 
permit  any  one  to  lag  behind,  either  to  despoil  the  dead,  or  for 
any  other  purpose. 


THE  CONQUEST  Off  OHANADA.  73 

Such  were  the  orders  given  by  this  most  adroit,  active,  and 
intrepid  cavalier,  to  his  little  army,  supplying,  by  admirable 
sagacity  and  subtle  management,  the  want  of  a  more  numer 
ous  force.  His  orders  being  given,  and  all  arrangements  made, 
he  threw  aside  his  lance,  drew  his  sword,  and  commanded  his 
standard  to  be  advanced  against  the  enemy. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  LUCENA. 

THE  Moorish  king  had  descried  the  Spanish  forces  at  a  dis 
tance,  although  a  slight  fog  prevented  his  seeing  them  dis 
tinctly,  and  ascertaining  their  numbers.  His  old  father-in-law, 
Ali  Atar,  was  by  his  side,  who,  being  a  veteran  marauder,  was 
well  acquainted  with  all  the  standards  and  armorial  bearings 
of  the  frontiers.  When  the  king  beheld  the  ancient  and  long- 
disused  banner  of  Cabra  emerging  from  the  mist,  he  turned  to 
Ali  Atar,  and  demanded  whose  ensign  it  was.  The  old  bor 
derer  was  for  once  at  a  loss,  for  the  banner  had  not  been  dis 
played  in  battle  in  his  time.  "Sire,"  replied  he,  after  a  pause, 
"  I  have  been  considering  that  standard,  but  do  not  know  it. 
It  appears  to  be  a  dog,  which  device  is  borne  by  the  towns  of 
Baeza  and  Ubeda.  If  it  be  so,  all  Andalusia  is  in  movement 
against  you ;  for  it  is  not  probable  that  any  single  commander 
or  community  would  venture  to  attack  you.  I  would  advise 
you,  therefore,  to  retire." 

The  count  de  Cabra,  in  winding  down  the  hill  towards  the 
Moors,  found  himself  on  much  lower  ground  than  the  enemy : 
he  ordered  in  all  haste  that  his  standard  should  be  taken 
back,  so  as  to  gain  the  vantage  ground.  The  Moors,  mistaking 
this  for  a  retreat,  rushed  impetuously  towards  the  Christians. 
The  latter,  having  gained  the  height  proposed,  charged  down 
upon  them  at  the  same  moment,  with  the  battle-cry  of  "  Santi 
ago  !"  and,  dealing  the  first  blows,  laid  many  of  the  Moorish 
cavaliers  in  the  dust. 

The  Moors,  thus  checked  in  their  tumultuous  assault,  were 
thrown  into  confusion,  and  began  to  give  way,  the  Christians 
following  hard  upon  them.  Boabdil  el  Chico  endeavored  to  rally 
them.  "Hold !  hold !  for  shame !"  cried  he;  "  let  us  not  fly,  at 


74          THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

least  until  we  know  our  enemy."  The  Moorish  chivalry  were 
stung  by  this  reproof,  and  turned  to  make  frc  it,  with  the 
valor  of  men  who  feel  that  they  are  fighting  under  their  mon 
arch's  eye. 

At  this  moment,  Lorenzo  de  Porres,  alcayde  of  Luque, 
arrived  with  fifty  horse  and  one  hundred  foot,  sounding  an 
Italian  trumpet  from  among  a  copse  of  oak  trees,  which  con 
cealed  his  force.  The  quick  ear  of  old  Ali  Atar  caught  the 
note.  ' '  That  is  an  Italian  trumpet,"  said  he  to  the  king ;  * '  the 
whole  world  seems  in  arms  against  your  majesty !" 

The  trumpet  of  Lorenzo  de  Porres  was  answered  by  that  of 
the  count  de  Cabra,  in  another  direction,  and  it  seemed  to  the 
Moors  as  if  they  were  between  two  armies.  Don  Lorenzo, 
sallying  from  among  the  oaks,  now  charged  upon  the  enemy i 
the  latter  did  not  wait  to  ascertain  the  force  of  this  new  foe ; 
the  confusion,  the  variety  of  alarums,  the  attacks  from  oppo 
site  quarters,  the  obscurity  of  the  fog,  all  conspired  to  deceive 
them  as  to  the  number  of  their  adversaries.  Broken  and  dis 
mayed,  they  retreated  fighting ;  and  nothing  but  the  presence 
and  remonstrance  of  the  king  prevented  their  retreat  from 
becoming  a  headlong  flight. 

This  skirmishing  retreat  lasted  for  about  three  leagues. 
Many  were  the  acts  of  individual  prowess  between  Christian 
and  Moorish  knights,  and  the  way  was  strewed  with  the 
flower  of  the  king's  guards  and  of  his  royal  household.  At 
length  they  came  to  the  rivulet  of  Mingonzales,  the  verdant 
banks  of  which  were  covered  with  willows  and  tamarisks.  It 
was  swoln  by  recent  rain,  and  was  now  a  deep  and  turbid  tor 
rent. 

Here  the  king  made  a  courageous  stand  with  a  small  body 
of  cavalry,  while  his  baggage  crossed  the  stream.  None  but 
the  choicest  and  most  loyal  of  his  guards  stood  by  their  mon 
arch,  in  this  hour  of  extremity.  The  foot-soldiers  took  to 
flight,  the  moment  they  passed  the  ford ;  many  of  the  horse 
men,  partaking  of  the  general  panic,  gave  reins  to  their  steeds 
and  scoured  for  the  frontier.  The  little  host  of  devoted  cava 
liers  now  serried  their  forces  in  front  of  their  monarch,  to  pra 
tect  his  retreat.  They  fought  hand  to  hand  with  the  Christian 
warriors,  disdaining  to  yield  or  to  ask  for  quarter.  The 
ground  wasj  covered  with  the  dead  and  dying.  The  king,  hav 
ing  retreated  along  the  river  banks,  and  gained  some  distance 
from  the  scene  of  combat,  looked  back,  and  saw  the  loyal  band 
at  length  give  way.  They  crossed  the  ford,  followed  pell-mell 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  75 

by  the  enemy,  and  several  of  them  were  struck  down  into  the 
stream. 

The  king  now  dismounted  from  his  white  charger,  whose 
color  and  rich  caparison  made  him  too  conspicuous,  and  en 
deavored  to  conceal  himself  among  the  thickets  which  fringed 
the  river.  A  soldier  of  Lucena,  named  Martin  Hurtado,  dis 
covered  him,  and  attacked  him  with  a  pike.  The  king  de 
fended  himself  with  scimitar,  and  target,  until  another  soldier 
assailed  him,  and  he  saw  a  third  approaching.  Perceiving 
that  further  resistance  would  be  vain,  he  drew  back  and 
called  upon  them  to  desist,  offering  them  a.  noble  ransom. 
One  of  the  soldiers  rushed  forward  to  seize  him,  but  the  Mng 
struck  him  to  the  earth  with  a  blow  of  his  scimitar. 

Don  Diego  Fernandez  de  Cordova  coming  up  at  this 
moment,  the  men  said  to  him,  "Seiior,  here  is  a  Moor  that  we 
have  taken,  who  seems  to  be  a  man  of  rank,  and  offers  a  large 
ransom." 

"  Slaves !"  exclaimed  king  Boabdil,  "  you  have  not  taken  me. 
I  surrender  to  this  cavalier." 

Don  Diego  received  him  with  knightly  courtesy.  He  per 
ceived  him  to  be  a  person  of  high  rank ;  but  the  king  concealed 
his  quality,  and  gave  himself  out  as  the  son  of  Aben  Aleyzar, 
a  nobleman  of  the  royal  household.*  Don  Diego  gave  him  in 
charge  of  five  soldiers,  to  conduct  him  to  the  castle  of  Lucena ; 
then,  putting  spurs  to  his  horse,  he  hastened  to  rejoin  the 
count  de  Cabra,  who  was  in  hot  pursuit  of  the  enemy.  He 
overtook  him  at  a  stream  called  Rianaul ;  and  they  continued 
to  press  on  the  skirts  of  the  flying  army,  during  the  remainder 
of  tiie  day.  The  pursuit  was  almost  as  hazardous  as  the  battle ; 
for,  had  the  enemy  at  any  time  recovered  from  their  panic, 
they  might,  by  a  sudden  reaction,  have  overwhelmed  the  small 
force  of  their  pursuers.  To  guard  against  this  peril,  the  wary 
count  kept  his  battalion  always  in  close  order,  and  had  a  body 
of  a  hundred  chosen  lancers  in  the  advance.  The  Moors  kept 
up  a  Parthian  retreat ;  several  times  they  turned  to  make  bat 
tle;  but,  seeing  this  solid  body  of  steeled  warriors  pressing 
upon  them,  they  again  took  to  flight. 

The  main  retreat  of  the  army  was  along  the  valley  watered 
by  theXenrA,  and  opening  through  the  mountains  ot  Algaringo 
to  the  city  of  Loxa.  The  alarm-fires  of  the  preceding  night 
had  roused  the  country;  every  man  snatched  sword  and 

*  Garibay,  lib.  40,  c.  31. 


76  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

buckler  from  the  wall,  and  the  towns  and  villages  poured  forth 
their  warriors  to  harass  the  retreating  foe.  AH  Atar  kept  the 
main  force  of  the  army  together,  and  turned  fiercely  from  time 
to  time  upon  his  pursuers;  he  was  like  a  wolf,  hunted  through 
the  country  he  had  often  made  desolate  by  his  maraudings. 

The  alarm  of  this  invasion  had  reached  the  city  of  Antiquera, 
where  were  several  of  the  cavaliers  who  had  escaped  from  the 
carnage  in  the  mountains  of  Malaga.  Their  proud  minds  were 
festering  with  their  late  disgrace,  and  their  only  prayer  was 
for  vengeance  on  the  infidels.  No  sooner  did  they  hear  of  the. 
Moor  being  over  the  border,  than  they  were  armed  and 
mounted  for  action.  Don  Alonzo  de  Aguilar  led  them  forth  ;— 
a  small  body  of  but  forty  horsemen,  but  all  cavaliers  of  prowess, 
and  thirsting  for  revenge.  They  came  upon  the  foe  on  the. 
banks  of  the  Xenel,  where  it  winds  through  the  valleys  of 
Cordova.  The  river,  swelled  by  the  late  rains,  was  deep 
and  turbulent,  and  only  fordable  at  certain  places.  The  main 
body  of  the  army  was  gathered  in  confusion  on  the  banks, 
endeavoring  to  ford  the  stream,  protected  by  the  cavalry  of 
Ali  Atar. 

No  sooner  did  the  little  band  of  Alonzo  de  Aguilar  come  in 
sight  of  the  Moors,  than  fury  flashed  from  their  eyes.  "Re 
member  the  mountains  of  Malaga !"  they  cried  to  each  other, 
as  they  rushed  to  combat.  Their  charge  was  desperate,  but 
was  gallantly  resisted.  A  scrambling  and  blood/  fight  ensued, 
hand  to  hand  and  sword  to  sword,  sometimes  on  land,  some 
times  in  the  water.  Many  were  lanced  on  the  banks :  others, 
throwing  themselves  into  the  river,  sunk  with  the  weight  of 
their  armor,  and  were  drowned ;  some,  grappling  together,  fell 
from  their  horses,  but  continued  their  struggle  in  the  waves, 
and  helm  and  turban  rolled  together  down  the  stream.  The 
Moors  were  far  greater  in  number,  and  among  them  were 
many  warriors  of  rank ;  but  they  were  disheartened  by  defeat, 
while  the  Christians  were  excited  even  to  desperation. 

Ali  Atar  alone  preserved  all  his  fire  and  energy  amid  his 
reverses.  He  had  been  enraged  at  the  defeat  of  the  army,  the 
loss  of  the  king,  and  the  ignominious  flight  he  had  been  obliged 
to  make  through  a  country  which  had  so  often  been  the  scene 
of  his  exploits:  but  to  be  thus  impeded  in  his  flight,  and 
harassed  and  insulted  by  a  mere  handful  of  warriors,  roused 
the  violent  passions  of  the  old  Moor  to  perfect  frenzy.  He  had 
marked  Don  Alonzo  de  Aguilar  dealing  his  blows  (says  Aga- 
pida)  with  the  pious  vehemence  of  a  righteous  kniglit,  who 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  77 

knows  that  in  every  wound  inflicted  upon  the  infidels,  he  is 
doing  God  service.  AH  Atar  spurred  his  steed  along  the  bank 
of  the  river,  to  come  upon  Don  Alonzo  by  surprise.  The  back 
of  the  warrior  was  towards  him ;  and,  collecting  all  his  force, 
the  Moor  hurled  his  lance  to  transfix  him  on  the  spot.  The 
lance  was  not  thrown  with  the  usual  accuracy  of  Ali  Atar ;  it 
tore  away  a  part  of  the  cuirass  of  Don  Alonzo,  but  failed  to  in 
flict  a  wound.  The  Moor  rushed  upon  Don  Alonzo  with  his 
scimitar ;  but  the  latter  was  on  the  alert,  and  parried  his  blow. 
They  fought  desperately  upon  the  borders  of  the  river,  alter 
nately  pressing  each  other  into  the  stream,  and  fighting  their 
way  again  up  the  bank.  Ali  Atar  was  repeatedly  wounded ; 
and  .Don  Alonzo,  having  pity  on  his  age,  would  have  spared 
his  life;  he  called  upon  him  to  surrender.  "  Never,"  cried  Ali 
Atar,  "  to  a  Christian  dog!"  The  words  were  scarce  out  of  his 
mouth,  when  the  sword  of  Don  Alonzo  clove  his  turbaned 
head,  and  sank  deep  into  the  brain.  He  fell  dead,  without  a 
groan;,  his  body  rolled  into  the  Xenel,  nor  was  it  ever  found 
and  recognised.*  Thus  fell  Ali  Atar,  who  had  long  been  the 
terror  of  Andalusia.  As  he  had  hated  and  warred  upon  the 
Christians  all  his  life,  so  he  died  in  the  very  act  of  bitter 
hostility. 

The  fall  of  Ali  Atar  put  an  end  to  the  transient  stand  of  the 
cavalry.  Horse  and  foot  mingled  together,  in  the  desperate 
struggle  across  the  Xenel ;  and  many  were  trampled  down,  and 
perished  beneath  the  waves.  Don  Alonzo  and  his  band  con 
tinued  to  harass  them  until  they  crossed  the  frontier;  and 
every  blow,  struck  home  to  the  Moors,  seemed  to  lighten  the 
load  of  humiliation  and  sorrow  which  had  weighed  heavy  on 
their  hearts. 

In  this  disastrous  rout,  the  Moors  lost  upwards  of  five  thou 
sand  killed  and  made  prisoners ;  many  of  whom  were  of  the 
most  noble  lineages  of  Granada:  numbers  fled  to  rocks  and 
mountains,  where  they  were  subsequently  taken. 

This  battle  was  called,  by  some,  the  battle  of  Lucena;  by 
others,  the  battle  of  the  Moorish  king,  because  of  the  capture 
of  Boabdil.  Twenty-two  banners  fell  into  the  hands  of  the 
Christians,  and  were  carried  to  Vaena,  and  hung  up  in  the 
church;  where  (says  a  historian  of  after-times)  they  remain 
to  this  day.  Once  a  year,  on  the  day  of  St.  George,  they  are 
borne  about  in  procession,  by  the  inhabitants,  who  at  the  same 
.  *_ _ ____^, 

*  Cura  de  los  Palaci»s, 


78  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

time  give  thanks  to  God  for  this  signal  victory  granted  to  thcil 
forefathers. 

Great  was  the  triumph  of  the  count  de  Cabra,  when,  on  re 
turning  from  the  pursuit  of  the  enemy,  he  found  that  the 
Moorish  king  had  fallen  into  his  hands.  When  the  unfortu 
nate  Boabdil  was  brought  before  him,  however,  and  he  beheld 
him  a  dejected  captive,  whom  but  shortly  before  he  had  seen 
in  royal  splendor,  surrounded  by  his  army,  the  generous  heart 
of  the  count  was  touched  by  sympathy.  He  said  every  thing 
that  became  a  courteous  and  Christian  knight,  to  comfort  him ; 
observing  that  the  same  mutability  of  things  which  had  sud 
denly  destroyed  his  recent  prosperity,  might  cause  his  present 
misfortunes  as  rapidly  to  pass  away ;  since  in  this  world  noth 
ing  is  stable,  and  even  sorrow  has  its  allotted  term. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

LAMENTATIONS  OF  THE  MOORS  FOR  THE  BATTLE  OF  LUCENA. 

THE  sentinels  looked  out  from  the  watch-towers  of  Loxa, 
along  the  valley  of  the  Xenel,  which  passes  through  the  moun 
tains  of  Algaringo.  They  looked  to  behold  the  king  returning 
in  triumph,  at  the  head  of  his  shining  host,  laden  with  the 
spoil  of  the  unbeliever.  They  looked  to  behold  the  standard 
of  their  warlike  idol,  the  fierce  Ali  Atar,  borne  by  the  chivalry 
of  Loxa,  ever  foremost  in  the  wars  of  the  border. 

In  the  evening  of  the  21st  of  April,  they  descried  a  single 
horseman  urging  his  faltering  steed  along  the  banks  of  the 
Xenel.  As  he  drew  near,  they  perceived,  by  the  flash  of  arms, 
that  he  was  a  warrior,  and  on  nearer  approach,  by  the  richness 
of  his  armor  and  the  caparison  of  his  steed,  they  knew  1,  im  to 
be  a  warrior  of  rank. 

He  reached  Loxa,  faint  and  aghast;  his  Arabian  courser 
covered  with  foam,  and  dust,  and  blood,  panting  and  stagger 
ing  with  fatigue,  and  gashed  with  wounds.  Having  brought 
his  master  in  safety,  he  sunk  down  and  died  before  the  gate  of 
the  city.  The  soldiers  at  the  gate  gathered  round  the  cavalier, 
as  he  stood  mute  and  melancholy  by  his  expiring  steed ;  they 
knew  him  to  be  the  gallant  Cidi  Caleb,  nephew  of  the  chief 
alfaqui  of  the  Albaycin  of  Granada.  When  the  people  of  Loxa 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.          79 

beheld  this  noble  cavalier,  thus  alone,  haggard  and  dejected, 
their  hearts  were  tilled  with  fearful  forebodings. 

"Cavalier,"  said  they,  "how  fares  it  with  the  king  and 
army?" 

He  cast  his  hand  mournfully  towards  the  land  of  the  Chris 
tians.  "  There  they  lie !"  exclaimed  he.  "The  heavens  have 
fallen  upon  them.  All  are  lost !  all  dead  1"  * 

Upon  this,  there  was  a  great  cry  of  consternation  among  the 
people,  and  loud  wailings  of  women:  for  the  flower  of  the 
youth  of  Loxa  were  with  the  army. 

An  old  Moorish  soldier,  scarred  in  many  a  border  battle, 
stood  leaning  on  his  lance  by  the  gateway.  "  Where  is  Ali 
Atar?"  demanded  he  eagerly.  "If  he  lives,  the  army  cannot 
be  lost." 

"I  saw  his  turban  cleaved  by  the  Christian  sword,"  replied 
Cidi  Caleb.  "  His  body  is  floating  in  the  Xenel." 

When  the  soldier  heard  these  words,  he  smote  his  breast  and 
threw  dust  upon  his  head ;  for  he  was  an  old  follower  of  Ali 
Atar. 

The  noble  Cidi  Caleb  gave  himself  no  repose,  but  mounting 
another 'steed,  hastened  to  carry  the  disastrous  tidings  to 
Granada.  As  he  passed  through  the  villages  and  hamlets,  he 
spread  sorrow  around ;  for  their  chosen  men  had  followed  the 
king  to  the  wars. 

When  he  entered  the  gates  of  Granada,  and  announced  the 
loss  of  the  king  and  army,  a  voice  of  horror  went  throughout 
the  city.  Every  one  thought  but  of  his  own  share  in  the 
general  calamity,  and  crowded  round  the  bearer  of  ill  tidings. 
One  asked  after  a  father,  another  after  a  brother,  some  after  a 
lover,  and  many  a  mother  after  her  som.  His  replies  were 
still  of  wounds  and  death.  To  one  he  replied,  "I  saw  thy 
father  pierced  with  a  lance,  as  he  defended  the  person  of  the 
king."  To  another,  "Thy  brother  fell  wounded  under  the 
hoofs^pf  the  horses;  but  there  was  no  time  to  aid  him,  for  the 
Christian  cavalry  were  upon  us."  To  another,  "I  saw  the 
horse  of  thy  lover,  covered  with  blood  and  galloping  without 
his  rider."  To  another,  "  Thy  son  fought  by  my  side,  on  th« 
banks  of  the  Xenel :  we  were  surrounded  by  the  enemy,  and 
driven  into  the  stream.  I  heard  him  cry  upon  Allah,  in  the 
midst  of  the  waters:  when  I  reached  the  other  bank,  he  was 
no  longer  by  my  side." 

*  Cura  de  los  Palaeios. 


80  THE  CONQUEST  0V  GRANADA. 

The  noble  Cidi  Caleb  passed  on,  leaving  all  Granada  in 
lamentation ;  he  urged  his  steed  up  the  steep  avenue  of  trees 
and  fountains  that  leads  to  the  Alhambra,  nor  stopped  until  he 
arrived  before  the  gate  of  Justice.  Ayxa,  the  nj other  of  Boab- 
dil,  and  Morayma,  his  beloved  and  tender  wife,  had  daily 
watched  from  the  tower  of  Gomeres,  to  behold  his  trium 
phant  return.  Who  shall  describe  their  affliction,  when  they 
heard  the  tidings  of  Cidi  Caleb?  The  sultana  Ayxa  spake 
not  much,  but  sate  as  one  entranced  in  wo.  Every  now  and 
then,  a  deep  sigh  burst  forth,  but  she  raised  her  eyes  to  heaven : 
"  It  is  the  will  of  Allah!"  said  she,  and  with  these  words  en 
deavored  to  repress  the  agonies  of  a  mother's  sorrow.  The 
tender  Morayma  threw  herself  on  the  earth,  and  gave  way  to 
tne  full  turbulence  of  her  feelings^  bewailing  her  husband  and 
her  father.  The  high-minded  Ayxa  rebuked  the  violence  of 
her  grief:  "Moderate  these  transports,  my  daughter,"  said 
she ;  ' '  remember  magnanimity  should  be  the  attribute  of 
princes ;  it  becomes  not  them  to  give  way  to  clamorous  sorrow, 
like  common  and  vulgar  minds."  But  Morayma  could  only 
deplore  her  loss,  with  the  anguish  of  a  tender  woman.  She 
shut  herself  up  in  her  mirador,  and  gazed  all  day,  with  stream 
ing  eyes,  upon  the  vega.  Every  object  before  her  recalled 
the  causes  of  her  affliction.  The  river  IXenel,  which  ran 
shining  amidst  the  groves  and  gardens,  was  the  same  on  whose 
banks  had  perished  her  father,  Ali  Atar ;  before  her  lay  the 
road  to  Loxa,  by  which  Boabdil  had  departed,  in  martial  state, 
surrounded  by  the  chivalry  of  Granada.  Ever  and  anon  she 
would  burst  into  an  agony  of  grief.  "  Alas!  my  father!"  she 
would  exclaim ;  ' '  the  river  runs  smiling  before  me,  that  covers 
thy  mangled  remains;  who  will  gather  them  to  an  honored 
tomb,  in  the  land  of  the  unbeliever?  And  thou,  O  Boabdil, 
light  of  my  eyes !  joy  of  my  heart !  life  of  my  life !  wo  the 
day,  and  wo  the  hour,  that  I  saw  thee  depart  from  these 
walls.  The  road  by  which  thou  hast  departed  is  solitary; 
never,  will  it  be  gladdened  by  thy  return !  the  mountain  thou 
hast  traversed  lies  like  a  cloud  in  the  distance,  and  all  beyond 
it  .is  darkness." 

The  royal  minstrels  were  summoned  to  assuage  the  sorrows 
of  the  queen:  they  attuned  their  instruments  to  cheerful 
strains ;  but  in  a  little  while  the  anguish  of  their  hearts  pre 
vailed,  and  turned  their  songs  to  lamentations. 

"Beautiful  Granada!"  they  exclaimed,  "how  is  thy  glory 
faded!  The  Vivarrambla  no  longer  echoes  to  the  tramp  of 


THE  CONQUEST  GF  GRANADA.  81 

steed  and  sound  of  trumpet ;  no  longer  is  it  crowded  with  thy 
youthful  nobles,  eager  to  display  their  prowess  in  the  tourney 
and  the  festive  tilt  of  reeds.  Alas !  the  flower  of  thy  chivalry 
lies  low  in  a  foreign  land !  the  soft  note  of  the  lute  is  no  longer 
heard  in  thy  moonlit  streets;  the  lively  castanet  is  silent 
upon  thy  hills ;  and  the  graceful  dance  of  the  Zambra  is  no 
more  seen  beneath  thy  bowers.  Behold,  the  Alhambra  is  for 
lorn  and  desolate !  in  vain  do  the  orange  and  myrtle  breathe 
their  perfumes  into  its  silken  chambers;  in  vain  does  the 
nightingale  sing  within  its  groves ;  in  vain  are  its  marble  halls 
refreshed  by  the  sound  of  fountains  and  the  gush  of  limpid 
rills.  Alas!  the  countenance  of  the  king  no  longer  shines 
within  those  halls;  the  light  of  the  Alhambra  is  set  for  ever!" 
Thus  all  Granada,  say  the  Arabian  chroniclers,  gave  itself 
up  to  lamentation :  there  was  nothing  but  the  voice  of  wailing, 
from  the  palace  to  the  cottage.  All  joined  to  deplore  their 
youthful  monarch,  cut  down  in  the  freshness  and  promise  of 
his  youth ;  many  feared  that  the  prediction  of  the  astrologers 
was  about  to  be  fulfilled,  and  that  the  downfall  of  the  king 
dom  would  follow  the  death  of  Boabdil ;  while  all  declared, 
that  had  he  survived,  he  was  the  very  sovereign  calculated  to 
restore  the  realm  to  its  ancient  prosperity  and  glory. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

HOW    MULEY  ABEN    HASS\N    PROFITED  BY  THE    MISFORTUNES  OF 
HIS  SON  BOABDIL. 

AN  unfortunate  death  atones,  with  the  world,  for  a  multitude 
of  errors.  While  the  populace  thought  their  youthful  mon 
arch  had  perished  in  the  field,  nothing  could  exceed  their  grief 
for  his  loss,  and  their  adoration  of  his  memory ;  when,  how 
ever,  they  learnt  that  he  was  still  alive,  and  had  surrendered 
himself  captive  to  the  Christians,  their  feelings  underwent  an 
instant  change.  They  decried  his  talents  as  a  commander,  his 
courage  as  a  soldier;  they  railed  at  his  expedition,  as  rash  and 
ill  conducted ;  and  they  reviled  him  for  not  having  dared  to 
die  on  the  field  of  battle,  rather  than  surrender  to  the  enemy. 

The  alfaquis,  as  usual,  mingled  with  the  populace  and  art 
fully  guided  their  discontents.  "Behold,"  exclaimed  they. 


82  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

"  the  prediction  is  accomplished,  which  was  pronounced  at  the 
birth  of  Boabdil.  He  has  been  seated  on.  the  throne,  and  the 
kingdom  has  suffered  downfall  and  disgrace  by  his  defeat  and 
captivity.  Comfort  yourselves,  O  Moslems !  The  evil  day  has 
passed  by ;  the  fates  are  satisfied ;  the  sceptre  which  has  been 
broken  in  the  feeble  hand  of  Boabdil,  is  destined  to  resume  its 
former  power  and  sway  in  the  vigorous  grasp  of  Aben  Has 
san." 

The  people  were  struck  with  the  wisdom  of  these  words: 
they  rejoiced  that  the  baleful  prediction,  which  had  so  long 
hung  over  them,  was  at  an  end;  and  declared,  that  none  but 
Muley  Aben  Hassan  had  the  valor  and  capacity  necessary  for 
the  protection  of  the  kingdom,  in  this  time  of  trouble. 

The  longer  the  captivity  of  Boabdil  continued,  the  greater 
grew  the  popularity  of  his  father.  One  city  after  another  re 
newed  allegiance  to  him ;  for  power  attracts  power,  and  for 
tune  creates  fortune.  At  length  he  was  enabled  to  return  to 
Granada,  and  establish  himself  once  more  in  the  Alhambra. 
At  his  approach,  his  repudiated  spouse,  the  sultana  Ayxa, 
gathered  together  the  family  and  treasures  of  her  captive  son, 
and  retired,  with  a  handful  of  the  nobles,  into  the  Albaycin,  the 
rival  quarter  of  the  city,  the  inhabitants  of  which  still  retained 
feelings  of  loyalty  to  Boabdil.  Here  she  fortified  herself,  and 
held  the  semblance  of  a  court  in  the  name  of  her  son.  The 
fierce  Muley  Aben  Hassan  would  have  willingly  carried  fire 
and  sword  into  this  factious  quarter  of  the  capital ;  but  he 
dared  not  confide  in  his  new  and  uncertain  popularity. 
Many  of  the  nobles  detested  him  for  his  past  cruelty ;  and  a 
large  portion  of  the  soldiery,  beside  many  of  the  people  of  his 
own  party,  respected  the  virtues  of  Ayxa  la  Horra,  and  pitied 
the  misfortunes  of  Boabdil. 

Granada  therefore  presented  the  singular  spectacle  of  two 
sovereignties  within  the  same  city.  The  old  king  fortified  him 
self  in  the  lofty  towers  of  the  Alhambra,  as  much  against  his 
own  subjects  as  against  the  Christians ;  while  Ayxa,  with  the 
zeal  of  a  mother's  affection,  which  waxes  warmer  and  warmer 
towards  her  offspring  when  in  adversity,  still  maintained  the 
standard  of  Boabdil  on  the  rival  fortress  of  the  Alcazaba, 
and  kept  his  powerful  faction  alive  within  the  walls  of  the 
Albaycin. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.         83 
CHAPTER  XIX. 

CAPTIVITY  OF  BOABDIL  EL  CHICO. 

THE  unfortunate  Boabdil  remained  a  prisoner,  closely 
guarded,  in  the  castle  of  Vaena.  From  the  towers  of  his 
prison,  he  beheld  the  town  below  filled  with  armed  men ;  and 
the  lofty  hi?1  ->n  which  it  was  built,  girdled  by  massive  walls 
and  ramparts,  on  which  a  vigilant  watch  was  maintained 
night  and  day.  The  mountains  around  were  studded  with 
watch-towers,  overlooking  the  lonely  roads  which  led  to  Gra 
nada,  so  that  a  turban  could  not  stir  over  the  border  without 
the  alarm  being  given,  and  the  whole  country  put  on  the 
alert.  Boabdil  saw  that  there  was  no  hope  of  escape  from 
such  a  fortress,  and  tha,  any  attempt  to  rescue  him  would  be 
equally  in  vain.  His  heart  was  filled  with  anxiety,  as  he 
thought  on  the  confusion  and  ruin  which  his  captivity  must 
cause  in  his  affairs ;  while  sorrows  of  a  softer  kind  overcame 
his  fortitude,  as  he  thought  on  the  evils  it  might  bring  upon 
his  family. 

The  count  de  Cabra,  though  he  maintained  the  most  vigilant 
guard  over  his  royal  prisoner,  yet  treated  him  with  profound 
deference;  he  had  appointed  the  noblest  apartments  in  the 
castle  for  his  abode,  and  sought  in  every  way  to  cheer  him 
during  his  captivity.  A  few  days  only  had  passed  away,  when 
missives  arrived  from  the  Castilian  sovereigns.  Ferdinand 
had  been  transported  with  joy  at  hearing  of  the  capture  of  the 
Moorish  monarch,  seeing  the  deep  and  politic  uses  that  might 
be  made  of  such  an  event;  but  the  magnanimous  spirit  of 
Isabella  was  filled  with  compassion  for  the  unfortunate  cap 
tive.  Their  messages  to  Boabdil  were  full  of  sympathy  and 
consolation,  breathing  that  high  and  gentle  courtesy  which 
dwells  in  noble  minds. 

This  magnanimity  in  his  foe  cheered  the  dejected  spirit  of 
the  captive  monarch.  ' '  Tell  my  sovereigns,  the  king  and 
queen,"  said  he  to  the  messenger,  "  that  I  cannot  be  unhappy, 
being  in  the  power  of  such  high  and  mighty  princes,  espe 
cially  since  they  partake  so  largely  of  that  grace  and  goodness 
which  Allah  bestows  upon  the  monarchs  whom  he  greatly 
loves.  Tell  them  further,  that  I  had  long  thought  of  submit 
ting  myself  to  their  sway,  to  receive  the  kingdom  of  Granada 


84  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA^ 

from  their  hands,  in  the  same  manner  that  my  ancestor  re- 
ceived  it  from  King  John  II.,  father  to  the  gracious  queen. 
My  greatest  sorrow  in  this  my  captivity,  is,  that  I  must  appear 
to  do  tnat  from  force,  which  I  would  fain  have  done  from 
inclination." 

In  the  mean  time,  Muley  Aben  Hassan,  finding  tke  faction 
of  his  son  still  formidable  in  Granada,  was  anxious  to  consoli 
date  his  power,  by  gaining  possession  of  the  person  of  Boabdil. 
For  this  purpose,  he  sent  an  embassy  to  the  Catholic  monarchs, 
offering  large  terms  for  the  ransom,  or  rather  the  purchase,  of 
his  son;  proposing,  among  other  conditions,  to  release  the 
count  of  Cifuentes  and  nine  other  of  his  most  distinguished 
captives,  and  to  enter  into  a  treaty  of  confederacy  with  the 
sovereigns.  Neither  did  the  implacable  father  make  any 
scruple  of  testifying  his  indifference  whether  his  son  were 
delivered  up  alive  or  dead,  so  that  his  person  were  placed 
assuredly  within  his  power. 

The  humane  heart  of  Isabella  revolted  at  the  idea  of  giving 
up  the  unfortunate  prince  into  the  hands  of  his  most  un 
natural  and  inveterate  enemy :  a  disdainful  refusal  was  there 
fore  returned  to  the  old  monarch,  whose  message  had  been 
couched  in  a  vaunting  spirit.  He  was  informed  that  the  Cas- 
tilian  sovereigns  would  listen  to  no  proposals  of  peace  from 
Muley  Aben  Hassan,  until  he  should  lay  down  his  arms,  and 
offer  them  in  all  humility. 

Overtures  in  a  different  spirit  were  made  by  the  mother  of 
Boabdil,  the  sultana  Ayxa  la  Horra,  with  the  concurrence  of 
the  party  which  still  remained  faithful  to  him.  It  was  thereby 
proposed,  that  Mahomet  Abdalla,  otherwise  called  Boabdil, 
should  hold  his  crown  as  vassal  to  the  Castilian  sovereigns, 
paying  an  annual  tribute,  and  releasing  seventy  Christian 
captives  annually,  for  five  years:  that  he  should,  moreover, 
pay  a  large  sum,  upon  the  spot,  for  his  ransom,  and  at  the  same 
time  give  freedom  to  four  hundred  Christians  to  be  chosen  by 
the  king:  that  he  should  also  engage  to  be  always  ready  to 
render  military  aid,  and  should  come  to  the  Cortes,  or  assem 
blage  of  nobles  and  distinguished  vassals  of  the  crown,  when 
ever  summoned.  His  only  son,  and  the  sons  of  twelve  distin 
guished  Moorish  houses,  were  to  be  delivered  as  hostages. 

King  Ferdinand  was  at  Cordova  when  he  received  this  pro 
position.  Queen  Isabella  was  absent  at  the  time.  He  <vas 
anxious  to  consult  her  in  so  momentous  an  affair;  or  rather, 
he  was  fearful  of  proceeding  too  precipitately,  and  not  draw* 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.          85 

ing  from  this  fortunate  event  all  the  advantage  of  which  ii: 
was  susceptible.  Without  returning  any  reply,  therefore,  to 
the  mission,  he  sent  missives  to  the  castle  of  Vaena,  where 
Boabdil  remained  in  courteous  durance  of  the  brave  count  de 
Cabra,  ordering  that  the  captive  monarch  should  be  brought 
to  Cordova. 

The  count  do  Cabra  set  out,  with  his  illustrious  prisoner; 
but  when  he  arrived  at  Cordova,  king  Ferdinand  declined  see 
ing  the  Moorish  monarch.  He  was  still  undetermined  what 
course  to  pursue, — whether  to  retain  him  prisoner,  set  him  at 
liberty  on  ransom,  or  treat  him  with  politic  magnanimity; 
and  each  course  would  require  a  different  kind  of  reception. 
Until  this  point  should  be  resolved,  therefore,  he  gave  him  in 
charge  to  Martin  de  Alarcon,  alcayde  of  the  ancient  fortress  of 
Porcima,  with  orders  to  guard  him  strictly,  but  to  treat  him 
with  the  distinction  and  deference  due  unto  a  prince.  These 
commands  were  strictly  obeyed;  and,  with  the  exception  of 
oeing  restrained  in  his  liberty,  the  monarch  was  as  nobly  enter 
tained  as  he  could  have  been  in  his  regal  palace  at  Granada. 

In  the  mean  time,  Ferdinand  availed  himself  of  this  critical 
moment,  while  Granada  was  distracted  with  factions  and  dis 
sensions,  and  before  he  had  concluded  any  treaty  with  Boab 
dil,  to  make  a  puissant  and  ostentatious  inroad  into  the  very 
heart  of  the  kingdom,  at  the  head  of  his  most  illustrious  nobles. 
He  sacked  and  destroyed  several  towns  and  castles,  and  ex 
tended  his  ravages  to  the  very  gates  of  Granada.  Old  Muley 
Aben  Hassan  did  not  venture  to  oppose  him.  His  city  was 
filed  with  troops,  but  he  was  uncertain  of  their  affection.  He 
dreaded,  that  should  he  sally  forth,  the  gates  of  Granada 
might  be  closed  against  him  by  the  faction  of  the  Albaycin. 

The  old  Moor  stood  on  the  lofty  tower  of  the  Alhambra, 
(says  Antonio  Agapida,)  grinding  his  teeth,  and  foaming  like  a 
tiger  shut  up  in  his  cage,  as  he  beheld  the  glittering  battalions 
of  the  Christians  wheeling  about  the  vega,  and  the  standard  of 
the  cross  shining  forth  from  among  the  smoke  of  infidel  villages 
and  hamlets.  The  most  Catholic  king  (continues  Agapida) 
would  gladly  have  continued  this  righteous  ravage,  but  his 
munitions  began  to  fail.  Satisfied,  therefore,  with  having  laid 
waste  the  country  of  the  enemy,  and  insulted  old  Muley  Aben 
Hassan  in  his  very  capital,  he  returned  to  Cordova  covered 
with  laurels,  and  his  army  laden  with  spoils;  and  now  be 
thought  himself  of  coming  to  an  immediate  decision,  in  regard 
to  his  royal  prisoner. 


86  THE  CONQUEST  OF  OR  AN  AD  A. 

CHAPTER  .XX. 

OF  THE  TREATMENT  OF  BOABDIL  BY  THE  CASTILIAN   SOVEREIGNS. 

A  STATELY  convention  was  held  by  king  Ferdinand  in  the 
ancient  city  of  Cordova,  composed  of  several  of  the  most  rev 
erend  prelates  and  renowned  cavaliers  of  the  kingdom,  to 
determine  upon  the  fate  of  the  unfortunate  Boabdil. 

Don  Alonzo  de  Cardenas,  the  worthy  Master  of  Santiago,  was 
one  of  the  first  who  gave  his -counsel.  He  was  a  pious  and 
zealous  knight,  rigid  in  his  devotion  to  the  faith ;  and  his  holy 
zeal  had  been  inflamed  to  peculiar  vehemence,  since  his  disas 
trous  crusade  among  the  mountains  of  Malaga.  He  inveighed 
with  ardor  against  any  compromise  or  compact  with  the  in 
fidels:  the  object  of  this  war,  he  observed,  was  not  the  subjec 
tion  of  the  Moors,  but  their  utter  expulsion  from  the  land ;  so 
that  there  might  no  longer  remain  a  single  stain  of  Mahome- 
tanism  throughout  Christian  Spain.  He  gave  it  as  "his  opinion, 
therefore,  that  the  captive  king  ought  not  to  be  set -at  liberty. 

Roderigo  Ponce  de  Leon,  the  valiant  marques  of  Cadiz,  on 
the  contrary,  spoke  warmly  for  the  release  of  Boabdil.  *He 
pronounced  it  a  measure  of  sound  policy,  even  if  done  without 
conditions.  It  would  tend  to  keep  up  the  civil  war  in  Granada, 
which  was  as  a  fire  consuming  the  entrails  of  the  enemy,  and 
effecting  more  for  the  interests  of  Spain,  without  expense,  than 
all  the  conquests  of  its  arms. 

The  grand  cardinal  of  Spain,  Don  Pedro  Gonzalez  de  Mendoza, 
coincided  in  opinion  with  the  marques  of  Cadiz.  Nay,  (added 
that  pious  prelate  and  politic  statesman,)  it  would  be  sound 
wisdom  to  furnish  the  Moor  with  men  and  money,  and  all 
other  necessaries,  to  promote  the  civil  war  in  Granada:  by 
this  means  would  be  produced  great  benefit  to  the  service  of 
God,  since  we  are  assured  by  his  infallible  word,  that  "  a 
kingdom  divided  against  itself  cannot  stand. "  * 

Ferdinand  weighed  these  counsels  in  his  mind,  but  was  slow 
in  coming  to  a  decision;  he  was  religiously  attentive  to  his 
own  interests,  (observes  Fray  Antonio  Agapida,)  knowing  him 
self  to  be  but  an  instrument  of  Providence  in  this  holy  war, 
and  that,  therefore,  in  consulting  his  own  advantage  he  was 

*  Salazar.    Cronica  del  Gran  Cardinal,  p.  188. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  OR  AN  AD  A.  87 

. 

promoting  the  interests  of  the  faith.  The  opinion  of  queen 
Isabella  relieved  him  from  his  perplexity.  That  high-minded 
princess  was  zealous  for  the  promotion  of  the  faith,  but  not  for 
the  extermination  of  the  infidels.  .The  Moorish  kings  had  held 
their  thrones  as  vassals  to  her  progenitors ;  she  was  content  at 
present  to  accord  the  same  privilege,  and  that  the  royal  pri 
soner  should  be  liberated  on  condition  of  becoming  a  vassal  to 
the  crown.  By  this  means  might  be  effected  the  deliverance 
of  many  Christian  captives,  who  were  languishing  in  Moorish 
chains. 

King  Ferdinand  adopted  the  magnanimous  measure  recom 
mended  by  the  queen;  but  he  accompanied  it  with  several 
shrewd  conditions;  exacting  tribute,  military  services,  and  safe 
passage  and  maintenance  for  Christian  troops,  throughout  the 
places  which  should  adhere  to  Boabdil.  The  captive  king 
readily  submitted  to  these  stipulations,  and  swore,  after  the 
manner  of  his  faith,  to  observe  them  with  exactitude.  A  truce 
was  arranged  for  two  years,  during  which  the  Castilian  sover 
eigns  engaged  to  maintain  him  on  his  throne,  and  to  assist  him 
in  recovering  all  places  which  he  had  lost  during  his  captivity. 

When  Boabdil  el  Chico  had  solemnly  agreed  to  this  arrange 
ment,  in  the  castle  of  Porcuna,  preparations  were  made  to  re 
ceive  him  in  Cordova  in  regal  style.  Superb  steeds  richly 
caparisoned,  and  raiment  of  brocade,  and  silk,  and  the  most 
costly  cloths,  with  all  other  articles  of  sumptuous  array, 
were  furnished  to  him  and  fifty  Moorish  caveliers,  who  had 
come  to  treat  for  his  ransom,  that  he  might  appear  in  state  be 
fitting  the  monarch  of  Granada,  and  the  most  distinguished 
vassal  of  the  Castilian  sovereigns.  Money  also  was  advanced 
to  maintain  him  in  suitable  grandeur,  during  his  residence  at 
the  Castilian  court,  and  his  return  to  his  dominions.  Finally, 
it  was  ordered  by  the  sovereigns,  that  when  he  came  to  Cor 
dova,  all  the  nobles  and  dignitaries  of  the  court  should  go  forth 
to  receive  him. 

A  question  now  arose  among  certain  of  those  ancient  and 
experienced  men,  who  grow  gray  about  a  court  in  the  profound 
study  of  forms  and  ceremonials,  with  whom  a  point  of  punctilio 
is  as  a  vast  political  right,  and  who  contract  a  sublime  and 
awful  idea  of  the  external  dignity  of  the  throne.  Certain  of 
these  court  sages  propounded  the  momentous  question,  whether 
the  Moorish  monarch,  coming  to  do  homage  as  a  vassal,  ought 
not  to  kneel  and  kiss  the  hand  of  the  king.  This  was  imme 
diately  decided  in  the  affirmative,  by  a  large  number  of  ancient 


88  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

cavaliers  accustomed  (says  Antonio  Agapida)  to  the  lofty 
punctilio  of  our  most  dignified  court  and  transcendent  sove 
reigns.  The  king,  therefore,  was  informed  by  those  who  ar 
ranged  the  ceremonies,  that  when  the  Moorish  monarch  ap 
peared  in  his  presence,  he  was  expected  to  extend  his  royal 
hand  to  receive  the  kiss  of  homage. 

"I  should  certainly  do  so,"  replied  king  Ferdinand,  "were 
he  at  liberty,  and  in  his  own  kingdom ;  but  I  certainly  shall 
not  do  so,  seeing  that  he  is  a  prisoner  and  in  mine." 

The  courtiers  loudly  applauded  the  magnanimity  of  this  re 
ply  ;  though  many  condemned  it  in  secret,  as  savoring  of  too 
much  generosity  towards  an  infidel;  and  the  worthy  Jesuit, 
Fray  Antonio  Agapida,  fully  concurs  in  their  opinion. 

The  Moorish  king  entered  Cordova  with  his  little  train  of 
faithful  knights,  and  escorted  by  all  the  nobility  and  chivalry 
or  the  Castilian  court.  He  was  conducted,  with  great  state  and 
ceremony,  to  the  royal  palace.  When  he  came  in  presence  of 
Ferdinand,  he  knelt  and  offered  to  kiss  his  hand,  not  merely 
in  homage  as  his  subject,  but  in  gratitude  for  his  liberty.  Fer 
dinand  declined  the  token  of  vassalage,  and  raised  him  graciously 
from  the  earth.  An  interpreter  began,  in  the  name  of  Boabdil, 
to  laud  the  magnanimity  of  the  Castilian  monarch,  and  to 
promise  the  most  implicit  submission.  "Enough,"  said  king 
Ferdinand,  interrupting  the  interpreter  in  the  midst  of  his 
harangue;  "  there  is  no  need  of  these  compliments.  I  trust  in 
his  integrity,  that  he  will  do  every  thing  becoming  a  good  man 
and  a  good  king."  With  these  words,  he  received  Boabdil  el 
Chico  into  his  royal  friendship  and  protection. 


CHAPTEE  XXI. 

RETURN  OF  BOABDIL  FROM  CAPTIVITY. 

IN  the  month  of  August,  a  noble  Moor,  of  the  race  of  the 
Abencerrages,  arrived  with  a  splendid  retinue  at  the  city  of 
Cordova,  bringing  with  him  the  son  of  Boabdil  el  Chico,  and 
other  of  the  noble  youth  of  Granada,  as  hostages  for  the  fulfil 
ment  of  the  terms  of  ransom.  When  the  Moorish  king  beheld 
his  son,  his  only  child,  who  was  to  remain  in  his  stead,  a  sort 
of  captive  in  a  hostile  land,  he  folded  him  in  his  arms  and 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  89 

wept  over  him.  "Wo  the  day  that  I  was  born!"  exclaimed 
he,  l '  and  evil  the  stars  that  presided  at  my  birth !  Well  was  I 
called  El  Zcgoybi,  or  the  unlucky;  for  sorrow  is  heaped  upon 
me  by  my  father,  and  sorrow  do  I  transmit  to  my  son !"  The 
afflicted  heart  of  Boabdil,  however,  was  soothed  by  the  kind 
ness  of  the  Christian  sovereigns,  who  received  the  hostage 
prince  with  a  tenderness  suited  to  his  age,  and  a  distinction 
worthy  of  his  rank.  They  delivered  him  in  charge  to  the 
worthy  alcayde  Martin  de  Alarcon,  who  had  treated  his  father 
with  such  courtesy  during  his  confinement  in  the  castle  of 
Porcuna,  giving  orders,  that,  after  the  departure  of  the  latter, 
his  son  should  be  entertained  with  great  honor  and  princely 
attention,  in  the  same  fortress. 

On  the  2d  of  September,  a  guard  of  honor  assembled  at  the 
gate  of  the  mansion  of  Boabdil,  to  escort  him  to  the  frontiers 
of  his  kingdom.  He  pressed  his  child  to  his  heart  at  parting, 
^ut  he  uttered  not  a  word ;  for  there  were  many  Christian  eyes 
to  behold  his  emotion.  He  mounted  his  steed,  and  never 
turned  his  head  to  look  again  upon  the  youth ;  but  those  who 
were  near  him  observed  the  vehement  struggle  that  shook  his 
frame,  wherein  the  anguish  of  the  father  had  well  nigh  sub 
dued  the  studied  equanimity  of  the  king. 

Boabdil  el  Chico  and  king  Ferdinand  sallied  forth,  side  by 
side,  from  Cordova,  amidst  the  acclamations  of  a  prodigious 
multitude.  When  they  were  a  short  distance  from  the  city, 
they  separated,  with  many  gracious  expressions  on  the  part  of 
the  Castilian  monarch,  and  many  thankful  acknowledgments 
from  his  late  captive,  whose  heart  had  been  humbled  by  adver 
sity.  Ferdinand  departed  for  Guadalupe,  and  Boabdil  for 
Granada.  The  latter  was  accompanied  by  a  guard  of  honor ; 
and  the  viceroys  of  Andalusia,  and  the  generals  on  the  frontier, 
were  ordered  to  furnish  him  wifh  escorts,  and  to  show  him  all 
possible  honor  on  his  journey.  In  this  way  he  was  con 
ducted  in  royal  state  through  the  country  he  had  entered  to 
ravage,  and  was  placed  in  safety  in  his  own  dominions. 

He  was  met  on  the  frontier  by  the  principal  nobles  and  cava 
liers  of  his  court,  who  had  been  secretly  sent  by  his  mother, 
the  sultana  Ayxa,  to  escort  him  to  the  capital.  The  heart  of 
Boabdil  was  lifted  up  foi\a  moment,  when  he  found  himself  on 
his  own  territories,  surrounded  by  Moslem  knights,  with  his 
own  standards  waving  over  his  head ;  and  he  began  to  doubt 
the  predictions  of  the  astrologers :  he  soon  found  cause,  how 
ever,  to  moderate  his  exultatioB.  The  loyal  train  which  had 


90  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

come  to  welcome  him,  was  but  scanty  in  number,  and  he 
missed  many  of  his  most  zealous  and  obsequious  courtiers. 
He  had  returned,  indeed,  to  his  kingdom,  but  it  was  no  longer 
the  devoted  kingdom  he  had  left.  The  story  of  his  vassalage 
to  the  Christian  sovereigns  had  been  made  use  of  by  his  fa 
ther  to  ruin  him  with  the  people.  He  had  been  represented  as 
a  traitor  to  his  country,  a  renegado  to  his  faith,  and  as  leagued 
with  the  enemies  of  both,  to  subdue  the  Moslems  of  Spain  to 
the  yoke  of  Christian  bondage.  In  this  way,  the  mind  of  the 
public  had  been  turned  from  him;  the  greater  part  of  the 
nobility  had  thronged  round  the  throne  of  his  father  in  the 
Alhambra;  and  his  mother,  the  resolute  sultana  Ayxa,  with 
difficulty  maintained  her  faction  in  the  opposite  towers  of  the 
Alcazaba. 

Such  was  the  melancholy  picture  of  affairs  given  to  Boabdil 
by  the  courtiers  who  had  come  forth  to  meet  him.  They 
even  informed  him  that  it  would  be  an  enterprise  of  diffi 
culty  and  danger  to  make  his  way  back  to  the  capital,  and 
regain  the  little  court  which  still  remained  faithful  to  him  in 
the  heart  of  the  city.  The  old  tiger,  Muley  Aben  Hassan,  lay 
couched  within  the  Alhambra,  and  the  walls  and  gates  of 
the  city  were  strongly  guarded  by  his  troops.  Boabdil  shook 
his  head  at  these  tidings.  He  called  to  mind  the  evil  omen  of 
his  breaking  his  lance  against  the  gate  of  Elvira,  when  issuing 
forth  so  vain-gloriously  with  his  army,  which  he  now  saw 
clearly  had  foreboded  the  destruction  of  that  army  on  which 
he  had  so  confidently  relied.  "Henceforth,"  said  he,  "let  no 
man  have  the  impiety  to  scoff  at  omens." 

Boabdil  approached  his  capital  by  stealth,  and  in  the  night, 
prowling  about  its  walls,  like  an  enemy  seeking  to  destroy, 
rather  than  a  monarch  returning  to  his  throne.  At  length  he 
seized  upon  a  postern-gate  of  the  Albaycin, — that  part  of  the 
city  which  had  always  been  in  his  favor ;  he  passed  rapidly 
through  the  streets  before  the  populace  were  aroused  from 
their  sleep,  and  reached  in  safety  the  fortress  of  the  Alcazaba. 
Here  he  was  received  into  the  embraces  of  his  intrepid 
mother,  and  his  favorite  wife  Morayma.  The  transports  of 
the  latter,  on  the  safe  retarn  of  her  husband,  were  mingled 
with  tears ;  for  she  thought  of  her  father,  Ali  Atar,  who  had 
fallen  in  his  cause,  and  of  her  only  son,  who  was  left  a  hostage 
in  the  hands  of  the  Christians. 

The  heart  of  Boabdil,  softened  by  his  misfortunes,  was  moved 
by  the  changes  in  every  thing  round  him;  but  his  mother 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  91 

called  up  his  spirit.  "This,"  said  she,  " is*  no  time  £OT  tears 
and  fondness.  A  king  must  think  of.  his  sceptre  and  his 
throne,  and  not  yield  tc  softness  like  common  men.  Thou 
hast  done  well,  my  son,  in  throwing  thyself  resolutely  into 
Granada:  it  must  depend  upon  thyself,  whether  thou  remain 
here  a  king  or  a  captive." 

The  old  king  Muley  Aben  Hassan  had  retired  to  his  couch 
ihat  night,  in  one  of  the  strongest  towers  of  the  Alhambra; 
but  his  j-estless  anxiety  kept  him  from  repose.  In  the  first 
watch  of  the  night,  he  heard  a  shout  faintly  rising  from  the 
quarter  of  the  Albaycin,  which  is  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
deep  valley  of  the  Darro.  Shortly  afterwards,  horsemen  came 
galloping  up  the  hill  that  leads  to  the  main  gate  of  the  Alham 
bra,  spreading  the  alarm  that  Boabdil  had  entered  the  city  and 
possessed  himself  of  the  Alcanaba. 

In  the  first  transports  of  his  rage,  the  old  king  would  have 
struck  the  messenger  to  earth.  He  hastily  summoned  his 
counsellors  and  commanders,  exhorting  them  to  stand  by  him 
in  this  critical  moment;  and,  during  the  night,  made  every 
preparation  to  enter  the  Albaycin  sword  in  hand  in  the  morn 
ing. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  sultana  Ayxa  had  taken  prompt  and 
vigorous  measures  to  strengthen  her  party.  The  Albaycin  was 
the  part  of  the  city  filled  by  the  lower  orders.  The  return  of 
Boabdil  was  proclaimed  throughout  the  streets,  and  large 
sums  of  money  were  distributed  among  the  populace.  The 
nobles,  assembled  in  the  Alcazaba,  were  promised  honors  and 
rewards  by  Boabdil,  as  soon  as  he  should  be  firmly  seated  on 
the  throne.  These  well-timed  measures  had  the  customary 
effect ;  and,  by  daybreak,  all  the  motley  populace  of  the  Albay 
cin  were  in  arms. 

A  doleful  day  succeeded.  All  Granada,  was  a  scene  of  tumult 
and  horror.  Drums  and  trumpets  resounded  in  every  part ; 
all  business  was  interrupted ;  the  shops  were  shut,  the  doors 
barricadoed.  Armed  bands  paraded  the  streets,  some  shout 
ing  for  Boabdil,  and  some  for  Muley  Aben  Hassan.  When 
they  encountered  each  other,  they  fought  furiously  and  with 
out  mercy;  every  public  square  became  a  scene  of  battle. 
The  great  mass  of  the  lower  orders  was  in  favor  of  Boabdil, 
but  it  was  a  multitude  without  discipline  or  lofty  spirit ;  part 
of  the  people  was  regularly  armed,  but  the  greater  number 
had  sallied  forth  with  the  implements  of  their  trade.  The 
troops  of  the  old  king,  among  whom  were  many  cavaliers  of 


92  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRAN  Aft  A. 

pride  and  valor,  soon  drove  the  populace  from  the  squares. 
They  fortified  themselves,  however,  in  the  streets  and  lanep, 
which  they  barricadoed.  They  made  fortresses  of  their  houses, 
and  fought  desperately  from  the  windows  and  the  roofs,  and 
many  a  warrior  of  the  highest  blood  of  Granada  was  laid  low 
by  plebeian  hands  and  plebeian  weapons,  in  this  civic  brawl. 

It  was  impossible  that  such  violent  convulsions  should  last 
long,  in  the  heart  of  a  city.  The  people  soon  longed  for  repose, 
and  a  return  to  their  peaceful  occupations ;  and  the  cavaliers 
detested  these  conflicts  with  the  multitude,  in  which  there 
were  all  the  horrors  of  war  without  its  laurels.  By  the  inter 
ference  of  the  alfaquis,  an  armistice  was  at  length  effected. 
Boabdil  was  persuaded  that  there  was  no  dependence  upon  the 
inconstant  favor  of  the  multitude,  and  was  prevailed  upon  to 
quit  a  capital  where  he  could  only  maintain  a  precarious  seat 
upon  his  throne  by  a  perpetual  and  bloody  struggle.  He  fixed 
his  court  at  the  city  of  Almeria,  which  was  entirely  devoted 
to  him,  and  which,  at  that  time,  vied  with  Granada  in  splen 
dor  and  importance.  This  compromise-of  grandeur  for  tran 
quillity,  however,  was  sorely  against  the  counsels  of  his  proud 
spirited  mother,  the  sultana  Ayxa.  Granada  appeared,  in  her 
eyes,  the  only  legitimate  seat  of  dominion ;  and  she  observed, 
with  a  smile  of  disdain,  that  he  was  not  worthy  of  being  called 
a  monarch,  who  was  not  master  of  his  capital. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

FORAY  OF  THE  MOORISH  ALCAYDES,    AND  BATTLE  OF  LOPERA. 

THOUGH  Muley  Aben  Hassan  had  regained  undivided  sway 
over  the  city  of  Granada,  and  the  alfaquis,  by  his  command, 
had  denounced  his  son  Boabdil  as  an  apostate,  and  as  one 
doomed  by  Heaven  to  misfortune,  still  the  kitter  had  many 
adherents  among  the  common  people.  Whenever,  therefore, 
any  act  of  the  old  monarch  was  displeasing  to  the  turbulent 
multitude,  they  were  prone  to  give  him  a  hint  of  the  slippery 
natupe  of  his  standing,  by  shouting  out  the  name  of  Boabdil  el 
Chico.  Long  experience  had  instructed  Mulcy  Abcn  Hassan 
in  the  character  of  the  inconstant  people  over  whom  he  ruled. 
"Allah  Ach bar!"  exclaimed  he,  "God  is  great;  but  a  succes* 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  93 

fill  inrca  1  into  the  country  of  the  unbelievers  will  make  more 
converts  to  my  cause  than  a  thousand  texts  of  the  Koran,  ex 
pounded  by  ten  thousand  alfaquis." 

At  this  time  king  Ferdinand  was  absent  from  Andalusia  on 
a  distant  expedition,  with  many  of  his  troops.  The  moment 
was  favorable  for  a  foray,  and  Muley  Aben  Hassan  cast  about 
his  thoughts  for  a  leader  to  conduct  it.  Ah'  Atar,  the  terror  of 
the  border,  the  scourge  of  Andalusia,  was  dead ;  but  there  was 
another  veteran  general,  scarce  inferior  to  him  for  predatory 
warfare.  This  was  old  Bexir,  the  gray  and  crafty  alcayde  of 
Malaga ;  and  the  people  under  his  command  were  ripe  for  an 
expedition  of  the  kind.  The  signal  defeat  and  slaughter  of  the 
Spanish  knights  in  the  neighboring  mountains  had  filled  the 
people  of  Malaga  with  vanity  and  self-conceit.  They  had 
attributed  to  their  own  valor  the  defeat  which  had  been  caused 
by  the  nature  of  the  country.  Many  of  them  wore  the  armor 
and  paraded  in  public  with  the  horses  of  the  unfortunate  cav 
aliers  slain  on  that  occasion,  which  they  vauntingly  displayed 
as  the  trophies  of  their  boasted  victory.  They  had  talked 
themselves  into  a  contempt  for  the  chivalry  of  Andalusia,  and 
were  impatient  for  an  opportunity  to  overrun  a  country  de 
fended  by  such  troops.  This,  Muley  Aben  Hassan  considered 
a  favorable  state  of  mind  to  insure  a  daring  inroad,  and  he 
sent  orders  to  old  Bexir  to  gather  together  his  people  and  the 
choicest  warriors  of  the  borders,  and  to  carry  fire  and  sword 
into  the  very  heart  of  Andalusia.  The  wary  old  Bexir  imme 
diately  dispatched  his  emissaries  among  the  alcaydes  of  the 
border  towns,  calling  upon  them  to  assemble  with  their  troops 
at  the  city  of  Honda,  close  upon  the  Christian  frontier. 

Ronda  was  the  most  virulent  nest  of  Moorish  depredators  in 
the  whole  border  country.  It  was  situated  in  the  midst  of  the 
wild  Serrania,  or  chain  of  mountains  of  the  same  name,  which 
are  uncommonly  lofty,  broken,  and  precipitous.  It  stood  on 
an  almost  isolated  rock,  nearly  encircled  by  a  deep  valley,  or 
rather  chasm,  through  which  ran  the  beautiful  river  called 
Rio  Verde.  The  Moors  of  this  city  were  the  most  active, 
robust,  and  warlike  of  all  the  mountaineers,  and  their  very 
children  discharged  the  cross-bow  with  unerring  aim.  They 
were  incessantly  harassing  the  rich  plains  of  Andalusia ;  their 
city  abounded  with  Christian  spoils,  and  their  deep  dungeons 
were  crowded  with  Christian  captives,  who  might  sigh  in  vain 
for  deliverance  from  this  impregnable  fortress.  Such  was 
Honda  in  the  time  of  the  Moors;  and  it  has  ever  retained 


94  THE  CONQUEST  OF  Gil  AX  AD  A. 

something  of  the  same  character,  even  to  the  present  day.  Its 
inhabitants  continue  to  be  among  the  boldest,  fiercest,  and 
most  adventurous  of  the  Andalusian  mountaineers;  and  the 
Serrania  de  Honda  is  famous  as  the  most  dangerous  resort  of 
the  bandit  and  the  contrabandista. 

Hamet  Zeli,  surnamed  El  Zegri,  was  the  commander  of  this 
belligerent  city  and  its  fierce  inhabitants.  He  was  of  the  tribe 
of  the  Zegries,  and  one  of  the  most  proud  and  daring  of  thaix 
warlike  race.  Beside  the  inhabitants  of  Eonda,  he  had  a 
legion  of  African  Moors  in  his  immediate  service.  They  were 
of  the  tribe  of  the  Gomeres,  mercenary  troops,  whose  hot 
African  blood  had  not  yet  been  tempered  by  the  softer  living 
of  Spain,  and  whose  whole  business  was  to  fight.  These  he 
kept  always  well  armed  and  well  appointed.  The  rich  pastur 
age  of  the  valley  of  Ronda  produced  a  breed  of  horses  famous 
for  strength  and  speed;  no  cavalry,  therefore,  was  better 
mounted  than  the  band  of  Gomeres.  Eapid  on  the  march, 
fierce  in  the  attack,  it  would  sweep  down  upon  the  Andalusian 
plains  like  a  sudden  blast  from  the  mountains,  and  pass  away 
as  suddenly,  before  there  was  time  for  pursuit. 

There  was  nothing  that  stirred  up  the  spirit  of  the  Moors  of 
the  frontiers  more  thoroughly  than  the  idea  of  a  foray.  The 
summons  of  Bexir  was  gladly  obeyed  by  the  alcaydes  of  the 
border  towns,  and  in  a  little  while  there  was  a  force  of  fifteen 
hundred  horse  and  four  thousand  foot,  the  very  pith  and 
marrow  of  the  surrounding  country,  assembled  within  the 
walls  of  Ronda.  The  people  of  the  place  anticipated  with 
eagerness  the  rich  spoils  of  Andalusia  that  were  soon  to  crowd 
their  gates ;  throughout  the  day,  the  city  resounded  with  the 
noise  of  kettle-drum  and  trumpet;  the  high-mettled  steeds 
stamped  and  neighed  in  their  stalls,  as  if  they  shared  the  im 
patience  for  the  foray;  while  the  Christian  captives  sighed, 
as  the  varied  din  of  preparation  reached  to  their  rocky  dun 
geons,  denoting  that  a  fresh  ravage  was  preparing  against 
their  countrymen. 

The  infidel  host  sallied  forth  full  of  spirits,  anticipating  an 
easy  ravage  and  abundant  booty.  They  encouraged  each 
other  in  a  contempt  for  the  prowess  of  the  foe.  Many  of  the 
warriors  of  Malaga,  and  of  some  of  the  mountain  towns,  had 
insultingly  arrayed  themselves  in  the  splendid  armor  of  the 
Christian  knights  slain  or  taken  prisoners  in  the  famous  mas 
sacre,  and  some  of  them  rode  the  Andalusian  steeds  which  had 
been  captured  on  that  occasion. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  95 

The  wary  Bexir  had  concerted  hi^  plans  so  secretly  and 
expeditiously,  that  the  Christian  towns  of  Andalusia  had  not 
the  least  suspicion  of  the  storm  that  had  gathered  beyond  the 
mountains.  The  vast  and  rocky  range  of  the  Serrania  de 
Eonda  extended  like  a  screen,  covering  all  their  movements 
from  observation. 

The  army  made  its  way  as  rapidly  as  the  rugged  nature  of 
the  mountains  would  permit,  guided  by  Hamet  el  Zegri,  the 
bold  alcayde  of  Ronda,  who  knew  every  pass  and  defile :  not  a 
drum,  nor  the  clash  of  a  cymbal,  nor  the  blast  of  a  trumpet, 
was  permitted  to  be  heard.  The  mass  of  war  rolled  quietly  on 
as  the  gathering  cloud  to  the  brow  of  the  mountains,  intend 
ing  to  burst  down  like  the  thunderbolt  upon  the  plain. 

Never  let  the  most  wary  commander  fancy  himself  secure 
Tom  discovery ;  for  rocks  have  eyes,  and  trees  have  ears,  and 
ne  birds  of  the  air  have  tongues,  to  betray  the  most  secret 
3iiterprise.  There  chanced  at  this  time  to  be  six  Christian 
scouts,  prowling  about  the  savage  heights  of  the  Serrania  de 
Ronda.  They  were  of  that  kind  of  lawless  ruffians  who  infest 
the  borders  of  belligerent  countries,  ready  at  any  time  to  fight 
for  pay,  or  prowl  for  plunder.  The  wild  mountain  passes  of 
Spain  have  ever  abounded  with  loose  rambling  vagabonds  of 
the  kind, — soldiers  in  war,  robbers  in  peace;  guides,  guards, 
smugglers,  or  cut-throats,  according  to  the  circumstances  of 
the  case. 

These  six  marauders  (says  Fray  Antonio  Agapida)  were  on 
this  occasion  chosen  instruments,  sanctified  by  the  righteous 
ness  of  their  cause.  They  were  lurking  among  the  mountains, 
to  entrap  Moorish  cattle  or  Moorish  prisoners,  both  of  which 
were  equally  saleable  in  the  Christian  market.  They  had 
ascended  one  of  the  loftiest  cliffs^  and  were  looking  out  like 
birds  of  prey,  ready  to  pounce  u^on  any  thing  that  might 
offer  in  the  valley,  when  they  descried  the  Moorish  army 
emerging  from  a  mountain  glen.  They  watched  it  in  silence 
as  it  wound  below  them,  remarking  the  standards  of  the 
various  towns  and  the  pennons  of  the  commanders.  They 
hovered  about  it  on  its  march,  skulking  from  cliff  to  cliff, 
until  they  saw  the  route  by  which  it  intended  to  enter  the 
Christian  country.  They  then  dispersed,  each  making  his 
way  by  the  secret  passes  of  the  mountains  to  some  different 
alcayde,  that  they  might  spread  the  alarm  far  and  wide,  and 
each  get  a  separate  reward. 

One  hastened  to  Luis  Fernandez  Puerto  Carrero,  the  same 


96  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA: 

valiant  alcayde  who  had  repulsed  Muley  Aben  Hassan  from 
the  walls  of  Alhama,  and  who  now  commanded  at  Ecija,  in 
the  absence  of  the  Master  of  Santiago.  Others  roused  the 
town  of  Utrera,  and  the  places  of  that  neighborhood,  putting 
them  all  011  the  alert. 

Puerto  Carrero  was  a  cavalier  of  consummate  vigor  and 
activity.  He  immediately  sent  couriers  to  the  alcaydes  of  the 
neighboring  fortresses ;  to  Herman  Carrello,  captain  pf  a  body 
of  the  Holy  Bi'otherhood,  and  of  certain  knights  of  the  order 
of  Alcantara.  Puerto  Carrero  was  the  first  to  take  the  field. 
Knowing  the  hard  and  hungry  service  of  these  border 
scampers,  he  made  every  man  take  a  hearty  repast,  and  see 
that  his  horse  was  well  shod  and  perfectly  appointed.  Then 
all  being  refreshed  and  in  valiant  heart,  he  sallied  forth  to  seek 
the  Moors.  He  had  but  a  handful  of  men,  the  retainers  of  his 
household  and  troops  of  his  captaincy;  but  they  were  well 
armed  and  mounted,  and  accustomed  to  the  sudden  rouses  of 
the  border;  men  whom  the  cry  of  "Arm  and  out!  to  horse 
and  to  the  field  1"  was  sufficient  at  any  time  to  put  in  a  fever 
of  animation. 

While  the  northern  part  of  Andalusia  was  thus  on  the  alert, 
one  of  the  scouts  had  hastened  southward  to  the  city  of  Xeres, 
and  given  the  alarm  to  the  valiant  marques  of  Cadiz.  When 
the  marques^heard  that  the  Moor  was  over  the  border,  and 
that  the  standard  of  Malaga  was  in  the  advance,  his  heart 
bounded  with  a  momentary  joy ;  for  he  remembered  the  mas 
sacre  in  the  mountains,  where  his  valiant  brothers  had  been 
mangled  before  his  eyes.  The  very  authors  of  his  calamity 
were  now  at  hand,  and  he  flattered  himself  that  the  day  of 
vengeance  had  arrived.  He  made  a  hasty  levy  of  his  retainers 
and  of  the  fighting  men  of  Xeres,  and  hurried  off  with  three 
hundred  horse  and  two  Mmdred  foot,  all  resolute  men  and 
panting  for  revenge. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  veteran  Bexir  had  accomplished  his 
march,  as  he  imagined,  undiscovered.  From  the  openings  of 
the  craggy  defiles,  he  pointed  out  the  fertile  plains  of  Andalu 
sia,  and  regaled  the  eyes  of  his  soldiery  with  the  rich  country 
they  were  about  to  ravage.  The  fierce  Gomeres  of  Ronda 
were  flushed  with  joy  at  the  sight;  and  even  their  steeds 
seemed  to  prick  up  their  ears  and  snuff  the  breeze,  as  they 
beheld  the  scenes  of  their  frequent  forays. 

When  they  came  to  where  the  mountain  defile  opened  into 
the  low  land,  Bexir  divided  his  force  into  three  parts:  one, 


THE  €0^ QUEST  OF  GRANADA.  97 

composed  of  foot-soldiers  and  of  such  as  were  weakly  mounted, 
he  left  to  guard  the  pass,  being  too  experienced  a  veteran  not 
to  Know  the  importance  of  securing  a  retreat :  a  second  body 
he  placed  in  ambush,  among  the 'groves  and  thickets  on  the 
banks  of  the  river  Lopera:  the  third,  consisting  of  light 
cavalry,  he  sent  forth  to  ravage  the  Campifia,  or  great  plain 
of  Utrera.  Most  of  this  latter  force  was  composed  of  the  fiery 
Gomeres  of  Honda,  mounted  on  the  fleet  steeds  bred  among 
the  mountains.  It  was  led  by  the  bold  alcayde  Hamet  el 
Zegri,  who  was  ever  eager  to  be  foremost  in  the  forage.  Little 
suspecting  that  the  country  on  both  sides  was  on  the  alarm, 
and  rushing  from  all  directions  to  close  upon  them  in  rear, 
this  fiery  troop  dashed  forward  until  they  came  within  two 
leagues  of  Utrera.  Here  they  scattered  themselves  about  the 
plain,  careering  round  the  great  herds  of  cattle  and  flocks  of 
sheep,  and  sweeping  them  into  droves,  to  be  hurried  to  the 
mountains. 

While  they  were  thus  dispersed  in  every  direction,  a  troop 
of  horse  and  body  of  foot  from  Utrera  came  suddenly  upon 
them.  The  Moors  rallied  together  in  small  parties,  and 
endeavored  to  defend  themselves;  but  they  were  without  a 
leader,  for  Hamet  el  Zegri  was  at  a  distance,  having,  like  a 
hawk,  made  a  wide  circuit  in  pursuit  of  prey.  The  marauders 
soon  gave  way  and  fled  towards  the  ambush  on  the  banks  of 
the  Lopera,  being  hotly  pursued  by  the  men  of  Ut^fcra. 

When  they  reached  the  Lopera,  the  Moors  in  ambush  rushed 
forth  with  furious  cries ;  and  the  fugitives,  recovering  courage 
from  this  reinforcement,  rallied  and  turned  upon  their  pur 
suers.  The  Christians  stood  their  ground,  though  greatly  in 
ferior  in  number.  Their  lances  were  soon  broken,  and  they 
came  to  sharp  work  with  a  word  and  scimitar.  The  Christians 
fought  valiantly,  but  were  in  danger  of  being  overwhelmed. 
The  bold  Hamet  had  collected  a  handful  of  his  scattered  Go- 
meres,  and,  leaving  his  prey,  had  galloped  towards  the  scene 
of  action  His  little  troop  of  horsemen  had  reached  the  crest 
of  a  rising  ground  at  no  great  distance,  when  trumpets  were 
heard  in  another  direction,  and  Luis  Fernandez  Puerto  Carrero 
and  his  followers  came  galloping  into  the  field,  and  charged 
upon  the  infidels  in  flank. 

The  Moors  were  astounded  at  finding  war  thus  breaking  upon 
them,  from  various  quarters  of  what  they  had  expected  to  find 
an  unguarded  country.  They  fought  for  a  short  time  with 
desperation,  and  resisted  a  vehement  assault  from  the  knights 


98  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

of  Alcantara,  and  the  men-at-arms  of  the  Holy  Brotherhood 
At  length  the  veteran  Bexir  was  struck  from  his  horse  b 
Puerto  Carrero,  and  taken  prisoner,  and  the  whole  force  ga\ 
way  and  fled.     In  their  flight,  they  separated,  and  took  tw 
roads  to  the  mountains,  thinking,  by  dividing  their  forces,  1  j 
distract  the  enemy.      The  Christians  were  too  few  to  separate. 
Puerto  Carrero  kept  them  together,  pursuing  one  division  of  the 
enemy  with  great  slaughter.   This  battle  took  place  at  the  foun 
tain  of  the  fig-tree,  near  to  the  Lopera.      Six  hundred  Moorish 
cavaliers  were  slain,  and  many  taken  prisoners.   Much  spoil  was 
collected  on  the  field,  with  which  the  Christians  returned  in 
triumph  to  their  homes. 

The  larger  body  of  the  enemy  had  retreated  along  a  road 
leading  more  to  the  south,  by  the  banks  of  the  Guadalete. 
When  they  reached  that  river,  the  sound  of  pursuit  had  died 
away,  and  they  rallied  to  breathe  and  refresh  themselves  on 
the  margin  of  the  stream.  Their  force  was  reduced  to  about 
a  thousand  horse,  and  a  confused  multitude  of  foot.  While 
they  were  scattered  and  partly  dismounted  on  the  banks  of  the 
Guadalete,  a  fresh  storm  of  war  burst  upon  them  from  an  op 
posite  direction.  It  was  the  marques  of  Cadiz,  leading  on  his 
household  troops  and  the  fighting  men  of  Xeres.  When  the 
Christian  warriors  came  in  sight  of  the  Moors,  they  were 
roused  to  fury  at  beholding  many  of  them  arrayed  in  the 
armor  of  tl^cavaliers  who  had  been  slain  among  the  moun 
tains  of  Malaga.  Nay,  some  who  had  been  in  that  defeat 
beheld  their  own  armor,  which  they  had  cast  away  in  their 
flight,  to  enable  themselves  to  climb  the  mountains.  Exasper 
ated  at  the  sight,  they  rushed  upon  the  foe  with  the  ferocity  of 
tigers,  rather  than  the  temperate  courage  of  cavaliers.  Each 
man  felt  as  if  he  were  avenging  the  death  of  a  relative,  or 
wiping  out  his  own  disgrace.  The  good  marques,  himself,  be 
held  a  powerful  Moor  bestriding  the  horse  of  his  brother  Bel- 
tram  :  giving  a  cry  of  rage  and  anguish  at  the  sight,  he  rushed 
through  the  thickest  of  the  enemy,  attacked  the  Moor  with  re 
sistless  fury,  and  after  a  short  combat,  hurled  him  breathless 
to  the  earth. 

The  Moors,  already  vanquished  in  spirit,  could  not  withstand 
the  assault  of  men  thus  madly  excited.  They  soon  gave  way, 
and  fled  for  the  defile  of  the  Serrania  de  Honda,  where  the 
body  of  troops  had  been  stationed  to  secure  a  retreat.  These, 
seeing  them  come  galloping  wildly  up  the  defile,  with  Christian 
banners  in  pursuit,  and  the  flash  of  weapons  at  their  deadly 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  99 

work,  thought  all  Andalusia  was  upon  them,  and  fled  without 
awaiting  an  attack.  The  pursuit  continued  among  glens  and 
defiles ;  for  the  Christian  warriors,  eager  for  revenge,  had  no 
compassion  on  the  foe. 

When  the  pursuit  was  over,  the  marques  of  Cadiz  and  his 
followers  reposed  themselves  upon  the  banks  of  the  Guadalete, 
where  they  divided  the  spoil.  Among  this  were  found  many 
rich  corselets,  helmets,  and  weapons, — the  Moorish  trophies  of 
the  defeat  in  the  mountains  of  Malaga.  Several  were  claimed 
by  their  owners ;  others  were  known  to  have  belonged  to  noble 
cavaliers,  who  had  been  slain  or  taken  prisoners.  There  were 
several  horses  also,  richly  caparisoned,  which  had  pranced 
proudly  with  the  unfortunate  warriors,  as  they  sallied  out  of 
Antiquera  upon  that  fatal  expedition.  Thus  the  exultation  of 
the  victors  was  dashed  with  melancholy,  and  many  a  knight 
was  seen  lamenting  over  the  helmet  or  corselet  of  some  loved 
companion  in  arms. 

The  good  marques  of  Cadiz  was  resting  under  a  tree  on  the 
banks  of  the  Guadaifete,  when  the  horse  which  had  belonged  to 
his  slaughtered  brother  Beltram  was  brought  to  him.  He  laid 
his  hand  upon  the  mane,  and  looked  wistfully  at  the  empty 
saddle.  His  bosom  heaved  with  violent  agitation,  and  his  lip 
quivered  and  was  pale.  "Ay  de  mi!  mi  hermano!"  (wo  is  me! 
my  brother !)  was  all  that  he  said ;  for  the  grief  of  a  warrior  has 
not  many  words.  He  looked  round  on  the  field  strewn  with  the 
bodies  of  the  enemy,  and  in  the  bitterness  of  his  wo  he  felt  con 
soled  by  the  idea  that  his  brother  had  not  been  unrevenged. 

Note.—"  En  el  despojo  de  la  Bat  alia  se  ireron  muchas  ricas  corazas  e  capacetes,  i 
barberas  de  las  que  se  habian  perdido  en  el  Axarquia,  e  otras  muchas  annas,  e  al- 
Kiines  fueron  conocidas  de  sus  Duenos  que  las  havian  dejado  por  fuir,  e  otras 
f  neron  conocidas,  que  eran  mui  serial  das  de  homhres  principales  que  havian  que- 
ili'do  inuertos  e  cautivos,  i  fueron  tornados  inuchos  de  los  mismos  Cavallos  con  sus 
ricas  sillas.  de  los  que  quedaron  en  la  Axarquia,  e  fueron  concidos  cuios  eran."— 
<Jura  de  los  Palacios,  cap.  67. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

RETREAT  OF  HEMET  EL  ZEGRI,  ALCAYDE  OF  RONDA. 

THE  bold  alcayde  of  Ronda,  Hamet  el  Zegri,  had  careered 
wide  over  the  Campina  of  Utrera,  encompassing  the  flocks  and 
herds,  when  he  heard  the  burst  of  war  at  a  distance.  There 


100  THE  CONQUEST  QW  GRANADA. 

were  with  him  but  a  handful  of  his  Gomeres.  He  saw  the 
scamper  and  puj^uit  afar  off,  and  beheld  the  Christian  horse 
men  spurring  madly  on  towards  the  ambuscade  on  the  banks 
of  the  Lopera.  Hamet  tossed  his  hand  triumphantly  alcft, 
for  his  men  to  follow  him.  ' '  The  Christian  dogs  are  ours !" 
said  he,  as  he  put  spurs  to  his  horse,  to  take  the  enemy  in  rear. 

The  little  band,  which  followed  Hamet,  scarcely  amounted  to 
thirty  horsemen.  They  spurred  across  the  plain,  and  reached 
a  rising  ground,  just  as  the  force  of  Puerto  Carrero  had 
charged,  with  sound  of  trumpet, . upon  the  flank  of  the  party  in 
ambush.  Hamet  beheld  the  headlong  rout  of  the  army,  with 
rage  and  consternation.  He  found  the  country  was  pouring 
forth  its  legions  from  every  quarter,  and  perceived  that  there 
was  no  safety  but  in  precipitate  flight. 

But  which  way  to  fly?  An  army  was  between  him  and  the 
mountain  pass ;  all  the  forces  of  the  neighborhood  were  rush 
ing  to  the  borders ;  the  whole  route  by  which  he  had  come, 
was  by  this  time  occupied  by  the  foe.  He  checked  his  steed, 
rose  in  the  stirrups,  and  rolled  a  stern  an*  thoughtful  eye  over 
the  country ;  then  sinking  into  his  saddle,  he  seemed  to  com 
mune  a  moment  with  himself.  Turning  quickly  to  his  troop, 
he  singled  out  a  renegado  Christian,  a  traitor  to  his  religion 
and  his  king.  "  Come  hither, "  said  Hamet.  "  Thou  knowest 
all  the  secret  passes -of  the  country."  "I  do,"  replied  the 
renegado.  "Dost  thou  know  any  circuitous  route,  solitary 
and  untravelled,  by  which  we  can  pass  wide  within  these 
troops,  and  reach  the  Serrania?"  The  renegado  paused:  "Such 
a  route  I  know,  but  it  is  full  of  peril,  for  it  leads  through 
the  heart  of  the  Christian  land."  "Tis  well,"  said  Hamet; 
"the  more  dangerous  in  appearance,  the  less  it  will  be  sus 
pected.  Now  hearken  to  me.  Ride  by  my  side.  Thou  seest 
this  purse  of  gold,  and  this  scimitar.  Take  us,  by  the  route 
thou  hast  mentioned,  safe  to  the  pass  of  the  Serrania,  and  this 
purse  shall  be  thy  reward ;  betray  us,  and  this  scimitar  shall 
cleave  thee  to  the  saddle-bow."* 

The  renegado  obeyed,  trembling.  They  turned  off  from  the 
direct  road  to  the  mountains,  and  struck  southward  towards 
Lebrixa,  passing  by  the  most  solitary  roads,  and  along  those 
deep  ramblas  and  ravines  by  which  the  country  is  intersected. 
It  was  indeed  a  daring  course.  Every  now  and  then  they 
heard  the  distant  sound  of  trumpets,  and  the  alarm-bells  of 

*  Cura  de  los  Palacios.    Ubi  sup. 


THE   CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  101 

towns  and  villages,  and  found  that  the  war  was  still  hurry 
ing  to  the  borders.  They  hid  themselves  in  thickets,  and  in 
the  dry  beds  of  rivers,  until  the  danger  had  passed  by,  and 
then  resumed  their  course.  Hamet  el  Zegri  rode  on  in  silence, 
his  hand  upon  his  scimitar  and  his  eye  upon  the  renegado 
guide,  prepared  to  sacrifice  him  on  the  least  sign  of  treachery ; 
while  his  band  followed,  gnawing  their  lips  with  rage,  at 
having  thus  to  skulk  through  a  country  they  had  come  to 
ravage. 

When  night  fell,  they  struck  into  more  practicable  roads, 
always  keeping  wide  of  the  villages  and  hamlets,  lest  the 
watch-dogs  should  betray  them.  In  this  way,  they  passed  in 
deep  midnight  by  Areos,  crossed  the  Guadalete,  and  effected 
their  retreat  to  the  mountains.  The  day  dawned,  as  they 
made  their  way  up  the  savage  defiles.  Their  comrades  had 
been  hunted  up  these  very  glens  by  the  enemy.  Every  now 
arid  then,  they  came  to  where  there  had  been  a  partial  fight, 
or  a  slaughter  of  the  fugitives ;  and  the  rocks  were  red  with 
blood,  and  strewed  with  mangled  bodies.  The  alcayde  of 
Ronda  was  almost  frantic  with  rage,  at  seeing  many  of  his 
bravest  warriors  lying  stiff  and  stark,  a  prey  to  the  hawks 
and  vultures  of  the  mountains.  Now  and  then  some  wretched 
Moor  would  crawl  out  of  a  cave  or  glen,  whither  he  had  fled 
for  refuge ;  for  in  the  retreat,  many  of  the  horsemen  had  aban 
doned  their  steeds,  thrown  away  their  armor,  and  clambered 
up  the  cliffs,  where  they  could  not  be  pursued  by  the  Christian 
cavalry. 

The  Moorish  army  had  sallied  forth  from  Ronda,  amidst 
shouts  and  acclamations ;  but  wailings  were  heard  within  its 
walls,  as  the  alcayde  and  his  broken  band  returned  without 
banner  or  trumpet,  and  haggard  with  famine  and  fatigue. 
The  tidings  of  their  disaster  had  preceded  them,  borne  by  the 
fugitives  of  the  army.  No  one  ventured  to  speak  to  the  stern 
Hamet  el  Zegri,  as  he  entered  the  city ;  for  they  saw  a  dark 
cloud  gathered  upon  his  brow. 

It  seemed  (says  the  pious  Antonio  Agapida)  as  if  Heaven 
meted  out  this  defeat  in  exact  retribution  for  the  ills  inflicted 
upon  the  Christian  warriors  in  the  heights  of  Malaga.  It  was 
equally  signal  and  disastrous.  Of  the  brilliant  array  of  Moor 
ish  chivalry,  which  had  descended  so  confidently  into  Anda 
lusia,  not  more  than  two  hundred  escaped.  The  choicest 
troops  of  the  frontier  were  either  taken  or  destroyed;  the 
Moorish  garrisons  enfeebled ;  and  many  alcaydes  and  cavaliers 


102  THE  CONQUEST  OP  GRANADA. 

of  noble  lineage  carried  into  captivity,  who  were  afterwards 
obliged  to  redeem  themselves  with  heavy  ransoms. 

This  was  called  the  battle  of  Lopera,  and  was  fought  on  the 
17th  of  September,  1483.  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  were  at 
Vittoria  in  old  Castile,  when  they  received  news  of  the  victory, 
and  the  standards  taken  from  the  enemy.  They  celebrated 
the  event  with  processions,  illuminations,  and  other  festivities. 
Ferdinand  sent  to  the  marques  of  Cadiz  the  royal  raiment 
which  he  had  worn  on  that  day,  and  conferred  on  him,  and  on 
all  those  who  should  inherit  his  title,  the  privilege  of  wearing 
royal  robes  on  our  Lady's  day,  in  September,  in  commemora 
tion  of  this  victory.* 

Queen  Isabella  was  equally  mindful  of  the  great  services  of 
Don  Luis  Fernandez  Puerto  Carrero.  Besides  many  encomi 
ums  and  favors,  she  sent  to  his  wife  the  royal  vestments  and 
robe  of  brocade  which  she  had  worn  on  the  same  day,  to  be 
worn  by  her,  during  her  life,  on  the  anniversary  of  that  bat 
tle.* 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

OF  THE  RECEPTION  AT  COURT  OF  THE  COUNT  DE  CABRA  AND 
THE  ALCAYDE  DE  LOS  DONZELES. 

IN  the  midst  of  the  bustle  of  warlike  affairs,  the  worthy 
chronicler  Fray  Antonio  Agapida  pauses  to  note,  with  curious 
accuracy,  the  distinguished  reception  given  to  the  count  de 
Cabra  and  his  nephew,  the  alcayde  de  los  Donzeles,  at  the 
stately  and  ceremonious  court  of  the  Castilian  sovereigns,  in 
reward  for  the  capture  of  the  Moorish  king  Boabdil.  The 
court  (he  observes)  was  held  at  the  time  in  the  ancient  Moor 
ish  palace  of  the  city  of  Cordova,  and  the  ceremonials  were 
arranged  by  that  venerable  prelate  Don  Pedro  Gonzalez  de 
Mendoza,  bishop  of  Toledo  and  grand  cardinal  of  Spain. 

It  was  on  Wednesday,  the  14th  of  October,  (continues  the 
precise  Antonio  Agapida,)  that  the  good  count  de  Cabra,  ac 
cording  to  arrangement,  appeared  at  the  gate  of  Cordova. 
Here  he  was  met  by  the  grand  cardinal,  and  the  duke  of 
Villahermosa,  illegitimate  brother  of  the  king,  together  with 

*  Mariana.  Abarca,  Zurita,  Pulgar,  &c. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  103 

many  of  the  first  grandees  and  prelates  of  the  kingdom.  By 
this  august  train  was  he  attended  to  the  palace,  amidst  tri 
umphant  strains  of  martial  music,  and  the  shouts  of  a  pro 
digious  multitude. 

When  the  count  arrived  in  the  presence  of  the  sovereigns, 
who  were  seated  in  state  on  a  dais  or  raised  part  of  the  hall  of 
audience,  they  both  arose.  The  king  advanced  exactly  five 
steps  towards  the  count,  who  knelt  and  kissed  his  majesty's 
hand ;  but  the  king  would  not  receive  him  as  a  mere  vassal, 
but  embraced  him  with  affectionate  cordiality.  The  queen 
also  advanced  two  steps,  and  received  the  count  with  a  coun 
tenance  full  of  sweetness  and  benignity:  after  he  had  kissed 
her  hand,  the  king  and  queen  returned  to  their  thrones,  and, 
cushions  being  brought,  they  ordered  the  count  de  Cabra  to  be 
seated  in  their  presence.  This  last  circumstance  is  written  in 
large  letters,  and  followed  by  several  notes  of  admiration,  in 
the  manuscript  of  the  worthy  Fray  Antonio  Agapida,  who  con 
siders  the  extraordinary  privilege  of  sitting  in  presence  of  the 
Catholic  sovereigns  an  honor  well  worth  fighting  for. 

The  good  count  took  his  seat  at  a  short  distance  from  the 
king,  and  near  him  was  seated  the  duke  of  Najera,  then  the 
bishop  of  Palencia,  then  the  count  of  Aguilar,  the  count  Luna, 
and  Don  Gutierre  de  Cardenas,  senior  commander  of  Leon. 

On  the  side  of  the  queen  were  seated  the  grand  cardinal  of 
Spain,  the  duke  of  Villahermosa,  the  count  of  Monte  Key,  and 
the  bishops  of  Jaen  and  Cuenca,  each  in  the  order  in  which 
they  are  named.  The  Infanta  Isabella  was  prevented,  by  in 
disposition,  from  attending  the  ceremony. 

And  now  festive  music  resounded  through  the  hall,  and 
twenty  ladies  of  the  queen's  retinue  entered  magnificently 
attired ;  upon  which  twenty  youthful  cavaliers,  very  gay  and 
galliard  in  their  array,  stepped  forth,  and,  each  seeking  his 
fair  partner,  they  commenced  a  stately  dance.  The  court  in 
the  mean  time  (observes  Fray  Antonio  Agapida)  looked  on 
with  lofty  and  becoming  gravity. 

When  the  dance  was  concluded,  the  king  and  queen  rose  to 
retire  to  supper,  and  dismissed  the  count  with  many  gracious 
expressions.  He  was  then  attended  by  all  the  grandees  present 
to  the  palace  of  the  grand  cardinal,  where  they  partook  of  a 
sumptuous  banquet. 

On  the  following  Saturday,  the  alcayde  de  los  Donzeles  was 
received,  likewise,  with  great  honors;  .but  the  ceremonies  were 
so  arranged,  as  to  be  a  degree  less  in  dignity  than  those  shown 


104  THE   CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

to  his  uncle ;  the  latter  being  considered  the  principal  actor  in 
this  great  achievement.  Thus  the  grand  cardinal  and  the  duke 
of  Villahermosa  did  not  meet  him  at  the  gate  of  the  city,  but 
received  him  in  the  palace,  and  entertained  him  in  conversa 
tion  until  summoned  to  the  sovereigns. 

When  the  alcayde  de  los  Donzeles  entered  the  presence 
chamber,  the  king  and  queen  rose  from  their  chairs,  but  with' 
out  advancing.  They  greeted  him  graciously,  and  commanded 
him  to  be  seated  next  to  the  count  de  Cabra. 

The  Infanta  Isabella  came  forth  to  this  reception,  and  took 
her  seat  beside  the  queen.  When  the  court  were  all  seated, 
the  music  again  sounded  through  the  hall,  and  the  twenty 
ladies  came  forth  as  on  the  preceding  occasion,  richly  attired, 
but  in  different  raiment.  They  danced,  as  before ;  and  the  In 
fanta  Isabella,  taking  a  young  Portuguese  damsel  for  a  partner, 
joined  in  the  dance.  When  this  was  concluded,  the  king  and 
queen  dismissed  the  alcayde  de  los  Donzeles  with  great  cour 
tesy  and  the  court  broke  up. 

The  worthy  Fray  Antonio  Agapida  here  indulges  in  a  long 
eulogy  on  the  scrupulous  discrimination  of  the  Castilian  court, 
in  the  distribution  of  its  honors  and  rewards,  by  which  means 
every  smile,  and  gesture,  and  word  of  the  sovereigns,  had  its 
certain  value,  and  conveyed  its  equivalent  of  joy  to  the  heart 
of  the  subject ;— a  matter  well  worthy  the  study  (says  he)  of 
all  monarchs,  who  are  too  apt  to  distribute  honors  with  a  heed 
less  caprice  that  renders  them  of  no  avail. 

On  the  following  Sunday,  both  the  count  de  Cabra  and  the 
alcayde  de  los  Donzeles  were  invited  to  sup  with  the  sover 
eigns.  The  court  that  evening  was  attended  by  the  highest 
nobility,  arrayed  with  that  cost  and  splendor  for  which  the 
Spanish  nobility  of  those  days  were  renowned. 

Before  supper,  there  was  a  stately  and  ceremonious  dance, 
befitting  the  dignity  of  so  august  a  court.  The  king  led  forth 
the  queen,  in  grave  and  graceful  measure;  the  count  de  Cabra 
was  honored  with  the  hand  of  the  Infanta  Isabella ;  and  the 
alcayde  de  los  Donzeles  danced  with  a  daughter  of  the  marques 
de  Astorga. 

The  dance  being  concluded,  the  royal  party  repaired  to  the 
supper-table,  which  was  placed  on  an  elevated  part  of  the  sa 
loon.  Here,  in  full  view  of  the  court,  the  count  de  Cabra  and 
the  alcayde  de  los  Donzeles  supped  at  the  same  table  with  the 
king,  the  queen,  and  the  Infanta.  The  royal  family  were 
served  by  the  marques  of  Villena.  The  cupbearer  to  the  king 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  1Q5 

was  his  nephew  Fadrigue  de  Toledo,  son  to  the  duke  of  Alva. 
Don  Alexis  de  Estaiiiga  had  the  honor  of  fulfilling  that  office  for 
the  queen,  and  Tello  de  Aguilar  for  the  Infanta.  Other  cava 
liers  of  rank  and  distinction  waited  on  the  count  and  the  al- 
cayde  de  los  Donzeles.  At  one  o'clock,  the  two  distinguished 
guests  were  dismissed  with  many  courteous  expressions  by  the 
sovereigns. 

Such  (says  Fray  Antonio  Agapida)  were  the  great  nonors 
paid  at  our  most  exalted  and  ceremonious  court,  to  these  re 
nowned  cavaliers:  but  the  gratitude  of  the  sovereigns  did  not 
end  here-.  A  few  days  afterwards,  they  bestowed  upon  them 
large  revenues  for  life,  and  others  to  descend  to  their  heirs, 
with  the  privilege  for  them  and  their  descendants  to  prefix  the 
title  of  Don  to  their  names.  They  gave  them,  moreover,  as 
armorial  bearings,  a  Moor's  head  crowned,  with  a  golden  chain 
round  the  neck,  in  a  sanguine  field,  and  twenty-two  banners 
round  the  margin  of  the  escutcheon.  Their  descendants,  of 
the  houses  of  Cabra  and  Cordova,  continue  to  bear  these  arms 
at  the  present  day,  in  memorial  of  the  victory  of  Lucena  and 
the  capture  of  Boabdil  el  Chico.* 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

HOW  THE  MARQUES  OF  CADIZ  CONCERTED  TO  SURPRISE  ZAHARA, 
AND  THE  RESULT  OF  HIS  ENTERPRISE. 

THE  valiant  Roderigo  Ponce  de  Leon,  marques  of  Cadiz,  was 
one  of  the  most  vigilant  of  commanders.  He  kept  in  his  pay  a 
number  of  converted  Moors,  to  serve  as  adalides,  or  armed 
guides.  These  mongrel  Christians  were  of  great  service,  in 
procuring  information.  Availing  themselves  of  their  Moorish 
character  and  tongue,  they  penetrated  into  the  enemy's  coun 
try,  prowled  about  the  castlss  and  fortresses,  noticed  the  state 
of  the  walls,  the  gates  and  towers,  the  strength  of  their  gar 
rison,  and  the  vigilance  or  negligence  of  their  commanders. 
All  this  they  reported  minutely  to  the  marques,  who  thus 


The  account  given  by  Fray  Antonio  Agapida  of  this  ceremonial,  so  characteris- 
the  old  Spanish  court,  agrees  in  almost  every  particular  with  an  ancient 
manuscript,  made  up  from  the  chronicle  of  the  curate  of  los  Palacios  and  other 
old  Spanish  writers. 


106  THIS  CONQUEST  OP   GRANADA. 

knew  the  state  of  every  fortress  upon  the  frontier,  and  when 
it  might  be  attacked  with  advantage.  Beside  the  various 
towns  and  cities  over  which  he  held  a  feudal  sway,  he  had 
always  an  armed  force  about  him  ready  for  the  field.  A  host 
of  retainers  fed  in  his  hall,  who  were  ready  to  follow  him  to 
danger  and  death  itself,  without  inquiring  who  or  why  they 
fought.  The  armories  of  his  castles  were  supplied  with  helms 
and  cuirasses  and  weapons  of  all  kinds,  ready  burnished  for 
use ;  and  his  stables  were  filled  with  hardy  steeds,  that  could 
stand  a  mountain  scamper. 

The  marques  was  aware  that  the  late  defeat  of  the  Moors  on 
the  banks  of  the  Lopera,  had  weakened  their  whole  frontier ; 
for  many  of  the  castles  and  fortresses  had  lost  their  alcaydes, 
and  their  choicest  troops.  He  sent  out  his  war-hounds,  there 
fore,  upon  the  range  to  ascertain  where  a  successful  blow 
might  be  struck ;  and  they  soon  returned,  with  word  that  Za- 
hara  was  weakly  garrisoned  and  short  of  provisions. 

This  was  the  very  fortress,  which,  about  two  years  before, 
had  been  stormed  by  Muley  Aben  Hassan;  and  its  capture  had 
been  the  first  blow  of  this  eventful  war.  It  had  ever  since  re 
mained  a  thorn  in  the  side  of  Andalusia.  All  the  Christians 
had  been  carried  away  captive,  and  no  civil  population  had 
been  introduced  in  their"  stead.  There  were  no  women  or  chil 
dren  in  the  place.  It  was  kept  up  as  a  mere  military  post, 
commanding  one  of  the  most  important  passes  of  the  moun 
tains,  and  was  a  strong-hold  of  Moorish  marauders.  The  mar 
ques  was  animated  by  the  idea  of  regaining  this  fortress  for  his 
sovereigns,  and  wresting  from  the  old  Moorish  king  this 
boasted  trophy  of  his  prowess.  He  sent  missives  therefore  to 
the  brave  Luis  Fernandez  Puerto  Carrero,  who  had  distin 
guished  himself  in  the  late  victory,  and  to  Juan  Almaraz,  cap 
tain  of  the  men-at-arms  of  the  Holy  Brotherhood,  informing 
them  of  his  designs,  and  inviting  them  to  meet  him  with  their 
forces  on  the  banks  of  the  Guadalete. 

It  was  on  the  day  (says  Fray  Antonio  Agapida)  of  the  glori 
ous  apostles  St.  Simon  and  Judas,  the  twenty-eighth  of  Octo 
ber,  in  the  year  of  grace  one  thousand  four  hundred  and 
eighty-three,  that  this  chosen  band  of  Christian  soldiers  assem 
bled  suddenly  and  secretly  at  the  appointed  place.  Their 
forces,  when  united,  amounted  to  six  hundred  horse  and  fif 
teen  hundred  foot.  Their  gathering  place  was  at  the  entrance 
of  the  defile  leading  to  Zahara.  That  ancient  town,  renowned 
in  Moorish  warfare,  is  situated  in  one  of  the  roughest  passes  of 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  107 

the  Serrania  de  Ronda.  It  is  built  round  the  craggy  cone  of  a 
hill,  on  the  lofty  summit  of  which  is  a  strong  castle.  The 
country  around  is  broken  into  deep  barrancas  or  ravines,  some 
of  which  approach  its  very  walls.  The  place  had  until  recently 
been  considered  impregnable ;  but  (as  the  worthy  Fray  Anto 
nio  Agapida  observes)  the  walls  of  impregnable  fortresses,  like 
the  virtue  of  self-confident  saints,  have  their  weak  points  of 
attack. 

The  marques  of  Cadiz  advanced  with  Ms  little  army  in  the 
dead  of  the  night,  marching  silently  into  the  deep  and  dark  de 
files  of  the  mountains,  and  stealing  up  the  ravines  which  ex 
tended  to  the  walls  of  the  town.  Their  approach  was  so  noise 
less,  that  the  Moorish  sentinels  upon  the  walls  heard  not  a 
voice  or  a  footfall.  The  marques  was  accompanied  by  his  old 
escalador,  Ortega  de  Prado,  who  had  distinguished  himself  at 
the  scaling  of  Alhama.  This  hardy  veteran  was  stationed,  with 
ten  men,  furnished  with  scaling-ladders,  in  a  cavity  among 
the  rocks,  close  to  the  walls.  At  a  little  distance,  seventy  men 
were  hid  in  a  ravine,  to  be  at  hand  to  second  him,  when  he 
should  have  fixed  his  ladders.  The  rest  of  the  troops  were 
concealed  in  another  ravine,  commanding  a  fair  approach  to 
the  gate  of  the  fortress.  A  shrewd  and  wary  adalid,  well  ac 
quainted  with  the  place,  was  appointed  to  give  signals;  and 
was  so  stationed,  that  he  could  be  seen  by  the  various  parties 
in  ambusk,  but  was  hidden  from  the  garrison. 

The  remainder  of  the  night  passed  away  in  profound  quiet. 
The  Moorish  sentinels  eould  be  heard  tranquilly  patrolling  the 
walls,  in  perfect  security.  The  day  dawned,  and  the  rising 
sun  began  to  shine  against  the  lofty  peaks  of  the  Serrania  de 
Honda.  The  sentinels  looked  from  their  battlements  over  a 
savage  but  quiet  mountain  country,  where  not  a  human  being 
was  stirring ;  they  little  dreamt  of  the  mischief  that  lay  lurk 
ing  in  every  ravine  and  chasm  of  the  rocks  around  them. 
Apprehending  no  danger  of  surprise  in  broad  day,  the  greater 
part  of  the  soldiers  abandoned  the  walls  and  towers,  and  de 
scended  into  the  city. 

By  orders  of  the  marques,  a  small  body  of  light  cavalry 
passed  along  the  glen,  and,  turning  round  a  point  of  rock, 
•showed  themselves  before  the  town :  they  skirred  the  fields 
almost  to  the  gates,  as  if  by  way  of  bravado,  and  to  defy  the 
garrison  to  a  skirmish.  The  Moors  were  not  slow  in  replying 
to  it.  About  seventy  horse,  and  a  number  of  foot  who  had 
guarded  the  walls,  sallied  forth  impetuously,  thinking  to  make 


108  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

easy  prey  of  these  insolent  marauders.  The  Christian  horsemen 
fled  for  the  ravine;  the  Moors  pursued  them  down  the  hill, 
until  they  heard  a  great  shouting  and  tumult  behind  them. 
Looking  round,  they  beheld  their  town  assailed,  and  a  scaling 
party  mounting  the  walls  sword  in  hand.  Wheeling  about, 
they  galloped  furiously  for  the  gate;  the  marques  of  Cadiz 
and  Luis  Fernandez  Puerto  Carrero  rushed  forth  at  the  same 
time  with  their  ambuscade,  and  endeavored  to  cut  them  off ; 
but  the  Moors  succeeded  in  throwing  themselves  within  the 
walls. 

While  Puerto  Carrero  stormed  at  the  gate,  the  marques  put 
spurs  to  his  horse  and  galloped  to  the  support  of  Ortega  de 
Prado  and  his  scaling  party.  He  arrived  at  a  moment  of 
imminent  peril,  when  the  party  was  assailed  by  fifty  Moors, 
armed  with  cuirasses  and  lances,  who  were  on  the  point  of 
thrusting  them  from  the  walls.  The  marques  sprang  from  his 
horse,  mounted  a  ladder,  sword  in  hand,  followed  by  a  number 
of  his  troops,  and  made  a  vigorous  attack  upon  the  enemy.* 
They  were  soon  driven  from  the  walls,  and  the  gates  and 
towers  remained  in  possession  of  the  Christians.  The  Moors 
defended  themselves  for  a  short  time  in  the  streets,  but  at 
length  took  refuge  in  the  castle,  the  walls  of  which  were  strong, 
and  capable  of  holding  out  until  relief  should  arrive.  The 
marques  had  no  desire  to  carry  on  a  siege,  and  he  had  not  pro 
visions  sufficient  for  many  prisoners ;  he  granted  them,  there 
fore,  favorable  terms.  They  were  permitted,  on  leaving  their 
arms  behind  them,  to  march  out  with  as  much  of  their  effects 
as  they  could  carry;  and  it  was  stipulated  that  they  should 
pass  over  to  Barbary.  The  marques  remained  in  the  place 
until  both  town  and  castle  were  put  in  a  perfect  state  of  de 
fence,  and  strongly  garrisoned. 

Thus  did  Zahara  return  once  more  into  possession  of  the 
Christians,  to  the  great  confusion  of  old  Muley  Aben  Hassan, 
who,  having  paid  the  penalty  of  his  ill-timed  violence,  was  now 
deprived  of  its  vaunted  fruits.  The  Castiliaii  sovereigns  were 
so  gratified  by  this  achievement  of  the  valiant  Ponce  de  Leon, 
that  they  authorized  him  thenceforth  to  entitle  himself  duke  of 
Cadiz  and  marques  of  Zahara.  The  warrior,  however,  was  so 
proud  of  the  original  title,  under  which  he  had  so  often  sig 
nalized  himself,  that  he  gave  it  the  precedence,  and  always 
signed  himself,  marques,  duke  of  Cadiz.  As  the  reader  may 

*  Cura  de  los  Palacios.  c.  W. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  109 

have  acquired  the  same  predilection,  we  shall  continue  to  call 
him  by  his  ancient  title. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

OF  THE  FORTRESS  OF  ALHAMA,  AND  HOW  WISELY  IT  WAS  GOV 
ERNED  BY  THE  COUNT  DE  TENDILLA. 

IN  this  part  of  the  chronicle,  the  worthy  father  Fray  Antonio 
Agapida  indulges  in  triumphant  exultation  over  the  downfall 
of  Zahara:  Heaven  sometimes  speaks  (says  he)  through  the 
mouths  of  false  prophets  for  the  confusion  of  the  wicked.  By 
the  fall  of  this  fortress  was  the  prediction  of  the  santon  of 
Granada  in  some  measure  fulfilled,  that  ' '  the  ruins  of  Zahara 
should  fall  upon  the  heads  of  the  infidels." 

Our  zealous  chronicler  scoffs  at  the  Moorish  alcayde,  who 
lost  nis  fortress  by  surprise  in  broad  daylight ;  and  contrasts 
the  vigilance  of  the  Christian  governor  of  Alhama,  the  town 
taken  in  retaliation  for  the  storming  of  Zahara. 

The  important  post  of  Alhama  was  at  this  time  confided  by 
king  Ferdinand  to  Don  Inigo  Lopez  de  Mendoza,  count  of  Ten- 
dilla,  a  cavalier  of  noble  blood,  brother  to  the  grand  cardinal 
of  Spain.  He  had  been  instructed  by  the  king,  not  merely  to 
maintain  his  post,  but  also  to  make  sallies  and  lay  waste  the 
surrounding  country.  His  fortress  was  critically  situated.  It 
was  within  seven  leagues  of  Granada,  and  at  no  great  distance 
from  the  warlike  city  of  Loxa.  It  was  nestled  in  the  lap  of 
the  mountains,  commanding  the  high-road  to  Malaga  and  a 
view  over  the  extensive  vega.  Thus  situated,  in  the  heart  of 
the  enemy's  country,  surrounded  by  foes  ready  to  assail  him, 
and  a  rich  country  for  him  to  ravage,  it  behoved  this  cavalier 
to  be  for  ever  on  the  alert.  He  was  in  fact  an  experienced 
veteran,  a  shrewd  and  wary  officer,  and  a  commander  amaz 
ingly  prompt  and  fertile  in  expedients. 

On  assuming  the  command,  he  found  that  the  garrison  con 
sisted  but  of  one  thousand  men,  horse  and  foot.  They  were 
hardy  troops,  seasoned  in  rough  mountain  campaigning,  but 
reckless  and  dissolute,  as  soldiers  are  apt  to  be  when  ac 
customed  to  predatory  warfare.  Tli^  would  fight  hard  for 
booty,  and  then  gamble  it  heedlessly  away,  or  squander  it  in 


THE  COXqUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

licentious  revelling.  Albania  abounded  with  hawking,  sharp 
ing,  idle  hangers-on,  eager  to  profit  by  the  vices  and  follies  of 
the  garrison.  The  soldiers  were  oftener  gambling  and  dancing 
beneath  the  walls,  than  keeping  watch  upon  the  battlements; 
and  nothing  was  hea*d,  from  morning  till  night,  but  the 
noisy  contest  of  cards  and  dice,  mingled  with  the  sound  of  the 
bolero  or  fandango,  the  drowsy  strumming  of  the  guitar,  and 
the  rattling  of  the  castanets ;  while  often  the  whole  was  inter 
rupted  by  the  loud  brawl,  and  fierce  and  bloody  contest. 

The  count  of  Tendilla  set  himself  vigorously  to  reform  these 
excesses ;  he  knew  that  laxity  of  morals  is  generally  attended 
by  neglect  of  duty,  and  that  the  least  breach  of  discipline  in 
the  exposed  situation  of  his  fortress  might  be  fatal.  "Here  is 
but  a  handful  of  men,"  said  he;  "  it  is  necessary  that  each  man 
should  be  a  hero. " 

He  endeavored  to  awaken  a  proper  ambition  in  the  minds 
of  his  soldiers,  and  to  instil  into  them  the  high  principles  of 
chivalry.  "A  just  war,"  he  observed,  "is  often  rendered 
wicked  and  disastrous  by  the  manner  in  which  it  is  con 
ducted;  for  the  righteousness  of  the  cause  is  not  sufficient 
to  sanction  the  profligacy  of  the  means,  and  the  want  of 
order  and  subordination  among  the  troops  may  bring  ruin 
and  disgrace  upon  the  best  concerted  plans."  But  we  cannot 
describe  the  character  and  conduct  of  this  renowned  com 
mander  in  more  forcible  language  than  that  of  Fray  Antonio 
Agapida,  excepting  that  the  pious  father  places  in  the  fore 
ground  of  his  virtues  his  hatred  of  the  Moors.  "The  count  de 
Tendilla,"  says  he,  "was  a  mirror  of  Christian  knighthood — 
watchful,  abstemious,  chaste,  devout,  and  thoroughly  filled 
with  the  spirit  of  the  cause.  He  labored  incessantly  and 
strenuously  for  the  glory  of  the  faith,  and  the  prosperity  of 
their  most  Catholic  majesties;  and,  above  all,  he  hated  the 
infidels  with  a  pure  and  holy  hatred.  The  worthy  cavalier 
discountenanced  all  idleness,  rioting,  chambering,  and  wanton 
ness  among  his  soldiery.  He  kept  them  constantly  to  the 
exercise  of  arms,  making  them  adroit  in  the  use  of  their 
weapons  and  management  of  their  steeds,  and  prompt  for 
the  field  at  a  moment's  notice.  He  permitted  no  sound  of 
lute  or  harp,  or  song,  or  other  loose  minstrelsy,  to  be  heard 
in  his  fortress,  debauching  the  ear  and  softening  the  valor 
of  the  soldier ;  no  other  music  was  allowed  but  the  wholesome 
rolling  of  the  drum  ancWbraying  of  the  trumpet,  and  such  like 
spirit-stirring  instrument?  a«  fill  the  mind  with  thoughts  of 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

iron  war.  All  wandering  minstrels,  sharping  pedlars,  sturdy 
trulls,  and  other  camp  trumpery,  were  ordered  to  pack  up 
their  baggage,  and  were  drummed  out  of  the  gates  of  Alhama. 
In  place  of  such  lewd  rabble,  he  introduced  a  train  of  holy 
friars  to  inspirit  his  people  by  exhortation,  and  prayer,  and 
choral  chanting,  and  to  spur  them  on  to  fight  the  good  fight  of 
faith.  All  games  of  chance  were  prohibited,  except  the  game 
of  war;  and  this  he  labored,  by  vigilance  and  vigor,  to  reduce 
to  a  game  of  certainty.  Heaven  smiled  upon  the  efforts  of 
this  righteous  cavalier.  His  men  became  soldiers  at  all  points, 
and  terrors  to  the  Moors.  The  good  count  never  set  forth  on  a 
ravage,  without  observing  the  rites  of  confession,  absolution, 
and  communion,  and  obliging  his  followers  to  do  the  same. 
Their  banners  were  blessed  by  the  holy  friars  whom  he  main 
tained  in  Alhama ;  and  in  this  way  success  was  secured  to  his 
arms,  and  he  was  enabled  to  lay  waste  the  land  of  the  heathen. 

The  fortress  of  Alhama  (continues  Fray  Antonio  Agapida) 
overlooked  from  its  lofty  site  a  great  part  of  the  fertile  vega, 
watered  by  the  Cazin  and  the  Xenel :  from  this  he  made  fre 
quent  sallies,  sweeping  away  the  flocks  and  herds  from  the 
pasture,  the  laborer  from  the  field,  and  the  convoy  from  the 
road ;  so  that  it  was  said  by  the  Moors,  that  a  beetle  could  not 
crawl  across  the  vega  without  being  seen  by  count  Tendilla. 
The  peasantry,  therefore,  were  fain  to  betake  themselves  to 
watch-towers  and  fortified  hamlets,  where  they  shut  up  their 
cattle,  garnered  their  corn,  and  sheltered  their  wives  and  chil 
dren.  Even  there  they  were  not  safe ;  the  count  would  storm 
these  rustic  fortresses  with  fire  and  sword ;  make  captives  of 
their  inhabitants;  carry  off  the  com,  the  oil,  the  silks,  and 
cattle;  and  leave  the  ruins  blazing  and  smoking,  within  the 
very  sight  of  Granada. 

"It  was  a  pleasing  and  refreshing  sight,"  continues  the  good 
father,  ' '  to  behold  this  pious  knight  and  his  followers  return 
ing  from  one  of  these  crusades,  leaving  the  rich  land  of  the 
infidel  in  smoking  desolation  behind  them ;  to  behold  the  long 
line  of  mules  and  asses,  laden  with  the  plunder  of  the  Gentiles 
—the  hosts  of  captive  Moors,  men,  women,  and  children- 
droves  of  sturdy  beeves,  lowing  kine,  and  bleating  sheep ;  all 
winding  up  the  steep  acclivity  to  the  gates  of  Alhama,  pricked 
on  by  the  Catholic  soldiery.  His  garrison  thus  thrived  on  the 
fat  of  the  land  and  the  spoil  of  the  infidel ;  nor  was  he  unmind 
ful  of  the  pious  fathers,  whose  blessings  crowned  his  enter 
prises  with  success.  A  large  portion  of  the  spoil  was  always 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

dedicated  to  the  church ;  and  the  good  friars  were  ever  ready 
at  the  gate  to  hail  him  on  his  return,  and  receive  the  share 
allotted  them.  Beside  these  allotments,  he  made  many  votive 
offerings,  either  in  time  of  peril  or  on  the  eve  of  a  foray ;  and 
the  chapels  of  Alhama  were  resplendent  with  chalices,  crosses, 
and  other  precious  gifts  made  by  this  Catholic  cavalier." 

Thus  eloquently  does  the  venerable  Fray  Antonio  Agapida 
dilate  in  praise  of  the  good  count  de  Tendilla ;  and  other  his 
torians  of  equal  veracity,  but  less  unction,  agree  in  pronounc 
ing  him  one  of  the  ablest  of  Spanish  generals.  So  terrible  in 
fact  did  he  become  in  the  land,  that  the  Moorish  peasantry 
could  not  venture  a  league  from  Granada  or  Loxa  to  labor  in 
the  fields,  without  peril  of  being  carried  into  captivity.  The 
people  of  Granada  clamored  against  Muley  Aben  Hassan,  for 
suffering  his  lands  to  be  thus  outraged  and  insulted,  and  de 
manded  to  have  this  bold  marauder  shut  up  in  his  fortress. 
The  old  monarch  was  roused  by  their  remonstrances.  He 
sent  forth  powerful  troops  of  horse,  to  protect  the  country, 
during  the  season  that  the  husbandmen  were  abroad  in  the 
fields.  These  troops  patrolled  in  formidable  squadrons  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Alhama,  keeping  strict  watch  upon  its  gates; 
so  that  it  was  impossible  for  the  Christians  to  make  a  sally, 
without  being  seen  and  intercepted. 

While  Alhama  was  thus  blockaded  by  a  roving  force  of 
Moorish  cavalry,  the  inhabitants  were  awakened  one  night 
by  a  tremendous  crash,  that  shook  the  fortress  to  its  founda 
tions.  The  garrison  flew  to  arms,  supposing  it  some  assault 
of  the  enemy.  The  alarm  proved  to  have  been  caused  by  the 
rupture  of  a  portion  of  the  wall,  which,  undermined  by  heavy 
rains,  had  suddenly  given  way,  leaving  a  large  chasm  yawn 
ing  towards  the  plain. 

The  count  de  Tendilla  was  for  a  time  in  great  anxiety. 
Should  this  breach  be  discovered  by  the  blockading  horsemen, 
they  would  arouse  the  country,  Granada  and  Loxa  would  pour 
out  an  overwhelming  force,  and  they  would  find  his  walls 
ready  sapped  for  an  assault.  In  this  fearful  emergency,  the 
count  displayed  his  noted  talent  for  expedients.  He  ordered 
a  quantity  of  linen  cloth  to  be  stretched  in  front  of  the  breach, 
painted  in  imitation  of  stone,  and  indented  with  battlements, 
so  as  at  a  distance  to  resemble  the  other  parts  of  the  wall :  be 
hind  this  scene  he  employed  workmen,  day  and  night,  in  re' 
pairing  the  fracture.  No  one  was  permitted  to  leave  the  for 
tress,  lest  information  of  its  defenceless  plight  should  be  carried 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

to  the  Moor.  Light  squadrons  of  the  enemy  were  seen  hovering 
about  the  plain,  but  never  approached  near  enough  to  discover 
the  deception;  and  thus,  in  the  course  of  a  few  days,  the  wall 
was  rebuilt  stronger  than  before. 

There  was  another  expedient  of  this  shrewd  veteran,  which 
greatly  excites  the  marvel  of  Agapida.      "It  happened,"  he 
observes,  "that  this  Catholic  cavalier  at  one  time  was  desti- 
tute  of  gold  and  silver,  wherewith  to  pay  the  wages  of  his 
troops;  and  the  soldiers  murmured  greatly,  seeing  that  they 
had  not  the  means  of  purchasing  necessaries  from  the  people 
of  the  town.     In  this  dilemma,  what  does  this  most  sagacious 
commander?    He  takes  me  a  number  of  little  morsels  of  paper, 
on  the  which  he  inscribes  various  sums,  large  and  small,  ac 
cording  to  the  nature  of  the  case,  and  signs  me  them  with  his 
own-  hand  and  name.     These  did  he  give  to  the  soldiery   in 
earnest  of  their  pay.     '  How ! '  you  will  say,  '  are  soldiers  to  be 
paid  with  scraps  of  paper?'    Even  so,  I  answer,  and  well  paid 
too,  as  I  will  presently  make  manifest:  for  the  good  count 
issued  a  proclamation,  ordering  the  inhabitants  of  Alhama  to 
take  these  morsels  of  paper  for  the  full  amount  thereon  in 
scribed,  promising  to  redeem  them  at  a  future  time  with  silver 
and  gold,  and  threatening  severe  punishment  to  all  who  should 
refuse.     The  people,  having  full  confidence  in  his  word    and 
.trusting  that  he  would  be  as  willing  to  perform  the  one  pro 
mise  as  he  certainly  was  able  to  perform  the  other,  took  those 
curious  morsels  of  paper  without  hesitation  or  demur.     Thus 
by  a  subtle  and  most  miraculous  kind  of  alchymy,  did  this 
Catholic  cavalier  turn  worthless  paper  into  precious  gold  and 
make  his  late  impoverished  garrison  abound  in  money !"    ' 
It  is  but  just  to  add,  that  the  count  de  Tendilla  redeemed  his 
•onuses,  like  a  loyal  knight;  and  this  miracle,  as  it  appeared 
in  the  eyes  of  Pray  Antonio  Agapida,  is  the  first  instance  on 
record  of  paper  money,  which  has  since  inundated  the  civilized 
world  with  unbounded  opulence. 


CONQUEST  OF  (Ji  KAN  AD  A. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

FORAY  OF  CHRISTIAN  KNIGHTS  INTO  THE  TERRITORY  OF  THE 

MOORS. 

THE  Spanish  cavaliers  who  had  survived  the  memorable 
massacre  among  the  mountains  of  Malaga,  although  they  had 
repeatedly  avenged  the  death  of  their  companions,  yet  could 
not  forget  the  horror  and  humiliation  of  their  defeat.  Nothing 
would  satisfy  them  but  to  undertake  a  second  expedition  of  the 
kind,  to  carry  fire  and  sword  throughout  a  wide  part  of  the 
Moorish  territories,  and  to  leave  all  those  regions  which  had 
triumphed  in  their  disaster  a  black  and  burning  monument  of 
their  vengeance.  Their  wishes  accorded  with  the  policy  ©f  the 
king,  who  desired  to  lay  waste  the  country  and  destroy  the 
resources  of  the  enemy ;  every  assistance  was  therefore  given 
to  promote  and  accomplish  their  enterprise. 

In  the  spring  of  1484,  the  ancient  city  of  Antiquera  again 
resounded  with  arms ;  numbers  of  the  same  cavaliers  who  had 
assembled  there  so  gayly  the  preceding  year,  again  came 
wheeling  into  the  gates  with  their  steeled  and  shining  war 
riors,  but  with  a  more  dark  and  solemn  brow  than  on  that 
disastrous  occasion,  for  they  had  the  recollection  of  their 
slaughtered  friends  present  to  their  minds,  whose  deaths  they 
were  to  avenge. 

In  a  little  while  there  was  a  chosen  force  of  six  thousand 
horse  and  twelve  thousand  foot  assembled  in  Antiquera,  many 
of  them  the  very  flower  of  Spanish  chivalry,  troops  of  the 
established  military  and  religious  orders,  and  of  the  Holy 
Brotherhood. 

Every  precaution  had  been  taken  to  furnish  this  army  with 
all  things  needful  for  its  extensive  and  perilous  inroad.  Nu 
merous  surgeons  accompanied  it,  who  were  to  attend  upon  all 
the  sick  and  wounded,  without  charge,  being  paid  for  their 
services  by  the  queen.  Isabella,  also,  in  her  considerate  hu 
manity,  provided  six  spacious  tents  furnished  with  beds  and 
all  things  needful  for  the  wounded  and  infirm.  These  con 
tinued  to  be  used  in  all  great  expeditions  throughout  the  war, 
and  were  called  the  Queen's  Hospital.  The  worthy  father, 
Fray  Antonio  Agapida,  vaunts  this  benignant  provision  of  the 
queen,  as  the  first  introduction  of  a  regular  camp  hospital  in 
campaigning  service. 


THE  CON^UtiST  OF  Gil  AN  AD  A.  115 

Thus  thoroughly  prepared,  the  cavaliers  issued  forth  from 
Antiquera  in  splendid  and  terrible  array,  but  with  less  exulting 
confidence  and  vaunting  ostentation  than  on  their  former  foray ; 
and  this  was  the  order  of  the  army.  Don  Alonzo  de  Aguilar 
led  the  advance  guard,  accompanied  by  Don  Diego  Fernandez 
de  Cordova,  the  alcayde  de  los  Donzeles,  and  Luis  Fernandez 
Puerto  Carrero,  count  of  Palma,  with  their  household  toops. 
They  were  followed  by  Juan  de  Merlo,  Juan  de  Almara,  and 
Carlos  de  Biezman,  of  the  Holy  Brotherhood,  with  the  men-at- 
arms  of  their  captaincies. 

The  second  battalion  was  commanded  by  the  marques  of 
Cadiz  and  the  Master  of  Santiago,  with  the  cavaliers  of  San 
tiago  and  the  troops  of  the  house  of  Ponce  de  Leon :  with  these 
also  went  the  senior  commander  of  Calatrava  and  the  knights 
of  that  order,  and  various  other  cavaliers  and  their  retainers. 

The  right  wing  of  this  second  battalion  was  led  by  Gonsalvo 
de  Cordova,  afterwards  renowned  as  grand  captain  of  Spain  ; 
the  left  wing,  by  Diego  Lopez  de  Avila.  They  were  accom 
panied  by  several  distinguished  cavaliers,  and  certain  captains 
of  the  Holy  Brotheuhood,  with  their  men-at-arms. 

The  duke  of  Medina  Sidonia  and  the  count  de  Cabra  com 
manded  the  third  battalion,  with  the  troops  of  their  respective, 
houses.  They  were  accompanied  by  other  commanders  of 
note,  with  their  forces. 

The  rear-guard  was  brought  up  by  the  senior  commander 
and  knights  of  Alcantara,  followed  by  the  Andalusian  chiv^ 
airy  from  Xerez,  Ecija,  and  Carmona. 

Such  was  the  army  that  issued  forth  from  the  gates  of  An 
tiquera,  on  one  of  the  most  extensive  talas,  or  devastating  in 
roads,  that  ever  laid  waste  the  kingdom  of  Granada. 

The  army  entered  the  Moorish  territory  by  the  way  of  Alora, 
destroying  all  the  cornfields,  vineyards,  and  orchards,  antf 
plantations  of  olives,  round  that  city.  It  then  proceeded 
through  the  rich  valleys  and  fertile  uplands  of  Coin,  Cazara- 
bonela,  Almexia,  and  Cartama ;  and  in  ten  days,  all  those  f er 
tile  regions  were  a  smoking  and  frightful  desert.  From  hence 
it  pursued  its  slow  and  destructive  course,  like  the  stream  of 
lava  of  a  volcano,  through  the  regions  of  Papiana  and  Alhen 
din,  and  so  on  to  the  vega  of  Malaga,  laying  waste  the  grove-; 
of  olives  and  almonds,  and  the  fields  of  grain,  and  destroying 
every  green  thing.  The  Moors  of  some  of  these  places  inter 
ceded  in  vain  for  their  groves  and  fields,  offering  to  deliver 
up  their  Christian  captives.  One  part  of  the  army  blockaded 


116  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

the  towns,  while  the  other  ravaged  the  surrounding  country. 
Sometimes  the  Moors  sallied  forth  desperately  to  defend  their 
property,  but  were  driven  back  to  their  gates  with  slaughter, 
and  their  suburbs  pillaged  and  burnt.  It  was  an  awful  specta 
cle  at  night  to  behold  the  volumes  of  black  smoke  mingled 
with  lurid  flames  that  rose  from  the  burning  suburbs,  and  the 
women  011  the  walls  of  the  town  wringing  their  hands  and 
shrieking  at  the  desolation  of  their  dwellings. 

The  destroying  army,  on  arriving  at  the  sea-coast,  found 
vessels  lying  off  shore  laden  with  all  kinds  of  provisions  and 
munitions  for  its  use,  which  had  been  sent  from  Seville  and 
Xerez :  it  was  thus  enabled  to  continue  its  desolating  career. 
Advancing  to  the  neighborhood  of  Malaga,  it  was  bravely  as 
sailed  by  the  Moors  of  that  city,  and  there  was  severe  skirmish 
ing  for  a  whole  day ;  but  while  the  main  part  of  the  army  en 
countered  the  enemy,  the  rest  ravaged  the  whole  vega  and  de 
stroyed  all  the  mills.  As  the  object  of  the  expedition  was  not 
to  capture  places,  but  merely  to  burn,  ravage,  and  destroy,  the 
host,  satisfied  with  the  mischief  they  had  done  in  the  vega, 
turned  their  backs  upon  Malaga,  and  again  entered  the  moun 
tains.  They  passed  by  Coin,  and  through  the  regions  of  Alla- 
zayna,  and  Gatero,  and  Alhaurin;  all  which  were  likewise 
desolated.  In  this  way  did  they  make  the  circuit  of  that  chain 
of  rich  and  verdant  valleys,  the  glory  of  those  mountains  and 
the  pride  and  delight  of  the  Moors.  For  forty  days  did  they 
continue  on  like  a  consuming  fire,  leaving  a  smoking  and 
howling  waste  to  mark  their  course,  until,  weary  with  the 
work  of  destruction,  and  having  fully  sated  their  revenge  for 
the  massacre  of  the  Axarquia,  they  returned  in  triumph  to 
the  meadows  of  Antiquera. 

In  the  month  of  June,  king  Ferdinand  took  command  in  per 
son  of  this  destructive  army ;  he  increased  its  force,  and  added 
to  its  means  of  mischief  several  lombards  and  other  heavy  ar 
tillery,  intended  for  the  battering  of  towns,  and  managed  by 
engineers  from  France  and  Germany.  With  these,  the  marques 
of  Cadiz  assured  the  king,  he  would  soon  be  able  to  reduce  the 
Moorish  fortresses.  They  were  only  calculated  for  defence 
against  the  engines  anciently  used  in  warfare.  Their  walls 
and  towers  were  high  and  thin,  depending  for  security  on 
their  rough  and  rocky  situations.  The  stone  and  iron  balls 
thundered  from  the  lombards  would  soon  tumble  them  in 
ruins  upon  the  heads  of  their  defenders. 

The  fate  of  Alora.  speedily  proved  the  truth  of  this  .opinion. 


Tim  COXQUKST  OP   GRANADA,  117 

It  was  strongly  posted  on  a  rock  washed  by  a  river.  The 
artillery  soon  battered  down  two  of  the  towers  and  a  part  of 
the  wall.  The  Moors  were  thrown  into  consternation  at  the 
vehemence  of  the  assault,  and  the  effect  of  those  tremendous 
engines  upon  their  vaunted  bulwarks.  The  roaring  of  the 
artillery  and  the  tumbling  of  the  walls  terrified  the  women, 
who  beset  the  alcayde  with  vociferous  supplications  to  sur 
render.  The  place  was  given  up  on  the  20th  of  June,  on  con 
dition  that  the  inhabitants  might  depart  with  their  effects. 
The  people  of  Malaga,  as  yet  unacquainted  with  the  power  of 
this  battering  ordnance,  were  so  incensed  at  those  of  Alora  for 
what  they  considered  a  tame  surrender,  that  they  would  not 
admit  them  into  their  city. 

A  similar  fate  attended  the  town  of  Setenil,  built  on  a  lofty 
rock  and  esteemed  impregnable.  Many  times  had  it  been  be 
sieged  under  former  Christian  kings,  but  never  had  it  been 
taken.  Even  now,  for  several  days  the  artillery  was  directed 
against  it  without  effect,  and  many  of  the  cavaliers  murmured 
at  the  marques  of  Cadiz  for  having  counselled  the  king  to  at 
tack  this  unconquerable  place.* 

On  the  same  night  that  these  reproaches  were  uttered,  the 
marques  directed  the  artillery  himself:  he  levelled  the  lom- 
bards  at  the  bottom  of  the  walls,  and  at  the  gates.  In  a  little 
while,  the  gates  were  battered  to  pieces,  a  great  breach  was 
effected  in  the  walls,  and  the  Moors  were  fain  to  capitulate. 
Twenty-four  Christian  captives,  who  had  been  taken  in  the 
defeat  of  the  mountains  of  Malaga,  were  rescued  from  the 
dungeons  of  this  fortress,  and  hailed  the  marques  of  Cadiz  as 
their  deliverer. 

Needless  is  it  to  mention  the  capture  of  various  other  places, 
which  surrendered  without  waiting  to  be  attacked.  The  Moors 
had  always  shown  great  bravery  and  perseverance  in  defend 
ing  their  towns;  they  were  formidable  in  their  sallies  and 
skirmishes,  and  patient  in  enduring  hunger  and  thirst  when 
besieged ;  but  this  terrible  ordnance,  which  demolished  their 
walls  with  such  ease  and  rapidity,  overwhelmed  them  with 
confusion  and  dismay,  and  rendered  vain  all  resistance.  King 
Ferdinand  was  so  struck  with  the  effect  of  this  artillery,  that 
he  ordered  the  number  of  lombards  to  be  increased ;  and  these 
potent  engines  had  henceforth  a  great  influence  on  the  fortunes 
of  this  war. 


*  Cur*  de  los  Falacios. 


118  Tim  CONQUEST  OF  QHANADA. 

The  last  operation  of  this  year,  so  disastrous  to  the  Moors, 
was  an  inroad  by  king  Ferdinand,  in  the  latter  part  of  sum 
mer,  into  the  vega,  in  which  he  ravaged  the  country,  burnt 
two  villages  near  to  Granada,  and  destroyed  the  mills  near  the 
very  gates  of  the  city. 

Old  Muley  Aben  Hassan  was  overwhelmed  with  dismay  at 
this  desolation,  which,  during  the  whole  year,  had  been  raging 
throughout  his  territories,  and  had  now  reached  to  the  walls  of 
his  capital.  His  fierce  spirit  was  broken  by  misfortunes  and 
infirmity;  he  offered  to  purchase  a  peace,  and  to  hold  his 
crown  as  a  tributary  vassal.  Ferdinand  would  listen  to  no 
propositions :  the  absolute  conquest  of  Granada  was  the  great 
object  of  this  war,  and  he  was  resolved  never  to  rest  con 
tent  without  its  complete  fulfilment.  Having  supplied  and 
strengthened  the  garrisons  of  the  places  he  had  taken  in  the 
heart  of  the  Moorish  territories,  he  enjoined  their  commanders 
to  render  every  assistance  to  the  younger  Moorish  king,  in  the 
civil  war  against  his  father.  He  then  returned  with  his  army 
to  Cordova,  in  great  triumph,  closing  a  series  of  ravaging  cam 
paigns,  that  had  filled  the  kingdom  of  Granada  with  grief  and 
consternation. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

ATTEMPT  OF  EL  ZAGAL  TO  SURPRISE  BOABDIL  IN  ALMERIA. 

DURING  this  year  of  sorrow  and  disaster  to  the  Moors,  the 
younger  king  Boabdil,  most  truly  called  the  unfortunate,  held 
a  diminished  and  feeble  court  in  the  maritime  city  of  Almeria. 
He  retained  little  more  than  the  name  of  king,  and  was  sup 
ported  in  even  this  shadow  of  royalty,  by  the  countenance  and 
treasures  of  the  Castilian  sovereigns.  Still  he  trusted,  that,  in 
the  fluctuation  of  events,  the  inconstant  nation  might  once 
more  return  to  his  standard,  and  replace  him  on  the  throne  of 
the  Alhambra. 

His  mother,  the  high-spirited  sultana  Ayxa  la  Horra,  eiv 
deavored  to  rouse  him  from  this  passive  state.  "It  is  a  feeble 
mind,  "said  she,  "that  waits  for  the  turn  of  fortune's  wheel ; 
the  brave  mind  seizes  upon  it,  and  turns  it  to  its  purpose. 
Take  the  field,  and  you  may  drive  danger  before  you ;  remain 
cowering  at  home,  and  it  besieges  you  in  your  dwelling.  By 


TEE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  119 

a  bold  enterprise  you  may  regain  your  splendid  throne  in 
Granada;  by  passive  forbearance,  you  will  forfeit  even  this 
miserable  throne  in  Almeria." 

Boabdil  had  not  the  force  of  soul  to  follow  these  courageous 
counsels,  and  in  a  little  time  the  evils  his  mother  had  predicted 
fell  upon  him. 

Old  Muley  Aben  Hassan  was  almost  extinguished  by  age  and 
infirmity.  He  had  nearly  lost  his  sight,  and  was  completely 
bedridden.  His  brother  Abdallah,  surnamed  El  Zagal,  or  the 
valiant,  the  same  who  had  assisted  in  the  massacre  of  the 
Spanish  chivalry  among  the  mountains  of  Malaga,  was  com- 
mander-in-chief  of  the  Moorish  armies,  and  gradually  took 
upon  himself  most  of  the  cares  of  sovereignty.  Among  other 
things,  he  was  particularly  zealous  in  espousing  his  brother's 
quarrel  with  his  son;  and  he  prosecuted  it  with  such  vehe 
mence,  that  many  affirmed  there  was  something  more  than 
mere  fraternal  sympathy  at  the  bottom  of  his  zeal. 

The  disasters  and  disgraces  inflicted  on  the  country  by  the 
Christians  during  this  year,  had  wounded  the  national  feelings 
of  the  people  of  Almeria;  and  many  had  felt  indignant  that 
Boabdil  should  remain  passive  at  such  a  time,  or  rather,  should 
appear  to  make  a  common  cause  with  the  enemy.  His  uncle 
Abdallah  diligently  fomented  this  feeling,  by  his  agents.  The 
same  arts  were  made  use  of,  that  had  been  successful  in  Gra 
nada.  Boabdil  was  secretly  but  actively  denounced  by  the 
alfaquis  as  an  apostate,  leagued  with  the  Christians  against  his 
country  and  his  early  faith ;  the  affections  of  the  populace  and 
soldiery  were  gradually  alienated  from  him,  and  a  deep  con 
spiracy  concerted  for  his  destruction. 

In  the  month  of  February,  1485,  El  Zagal  suddenly  appeared 
before  Almeria,  at  the  head  of  a  troop  of  horse.  The  alfaquis 
were  prepared  for  his  arrival,  and  the  gates  were  thrown  open 
to  him.  He  entered  with  his  band,  and  galloped  to  the  citadel. 
The  alcayde  would  have  made  resistance ;  but  the  garrison  put 
him  to  death,  and  received  El  Zagal  with  acclamations.  El 
Zagal  rushed  through  the  apartments  of  the  Alcazar,  but  he 
sought  in  vain  for  Boabdil.  He  found  the  sultana  Ayxa  la 
Horra  in  one  of  the  saloons,  with  Ben  Ahagete,  a  younger 
brother  of  the  monarch,  a  valiant  Abencerrage,  and  several 
attendants,  who  rallied  round  them  to  protect  them. 
"Where  is  the  traitor  Boabdil?"  exclaimed  El  Zagal.  "I 
know  no  traitor  more  perfidious  than  thyself,"  exclaimed  the 
intrepid  sultana;  "  and  I  trust  my  son  is  in  safety  to  take  ven- 


120        THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

geance  on  thy  treason."  The  rage  of  El  Zagal  was  without 
bounds,  when  he  learnt  that  his  intended  victim  had  escaped. 
In  his  fury  he  slew  the  prince  Ben  Ahagete,  and  his  followers 
fell  upon  and  massacred  the  Abencerrage  and  attendants.  As 
to  the  proud  sultana,  she  was  borne  away  prisoner,  and  loaded 
with  revilings,  as  having  upheld  her  son  in  his  rebellion,  and 
fomented  a  civil  war. 

The  unfortunate  Boabdil  had  been  apprised  of  his  danger  by 
a  faithful  soldier,  just  in  time  to  make  his  escape.  Throwing 
himself  on  one  of  the  fleetest  horses  in  his  stables,  and  followed 
by  a  handful  of  adherents,  he  had  galloped  in  the  confusion 
out  of  the  gates  of  Almeria.  Several  of  the  cavalry  of  El  Za 
gal,  who  were  stationed  without  the  walls,  perceived  his  flight, 
and  attempted  to  pursue  him ;  their  horses  were  jaded  with 
travel,  and  he  soon  left  them  far  behind.  But,  whither  was  he 
to  fly?  Every  fortress  and  castle  in  the  kingdom  of  Granada 
was  closed  against  him ;  he  knew  not  whom  among  the  Moors 
to  trust,  for  they  had  been  taught  to  detest  him  as  a  traitor 
and  an  apostate.  He  had  no  alternative  but  to  seek  refuge 
among  the  Christians,  his  hereditary  enemies.  With  a  heavy 
heart,  he  turned  his  horse's  head  toward  Cordova.  He  had  to 
lurk,  like  a  fugitive,  through  a  part  of  his  own  dominions ;  nor 
did  he  feel  himself  secure,  until  he  had  passed  the  frontier,  and 
beheld  the  mountain  barrier  of  his  country  towering  behind 
him.  Then  it  was  that  he  became  conscious  of  his  humili 
ating  state — a  fugitive  from  his  throne,  an  outcast  from  his 
nation,  a  king  without  a  kingdom.  He  smote  his  breast,  in  an 
agony  of  grief :  "  Evil  indeed,"  exclaimed  he,  "was  the  day  of 
my  birth,  and  truly  was  I  named  El  Zogoybi,  the  unlucky." 

He  entered  the  gates  of  Cordova  with  downcast  countenance, 
and  with  a  train  of  but  forty  followers.  The  sovereigns  were 
absent;  but  the  cavaliers  of  Andalusia  manifested  that  sym 
pathy  in  the  misfortunes  of  the  monarch,  that  becomes  men  of- 
lofty  and  chivalrous  souls.  They  received  him  with  great  dis 
tinction,  attended  him  with  the  utmost  courtesy,  and  he  was 
honorably  entertained  by  the  civil  and  military  commanders 
of  that  ancient  city. 

In  the  mean  time,  El  Zagal  put  a  new  alcayde  over  Almeria, 
to  govern  in  the  name  of  his  brother;  and,  having  strongly 
garrisoned  the  place,  he  repaired  to  Malaga,  where  an  attack 
of  the  Christians  was  apprehended.  The  young  monarch  be 
ing  driven  out  of  the  land,  and  the  old  monarch  blind  and  bed 
ridden,  El  Zagal,  at  the  head  of  the  armies,  was  virtually  the 


THE  CONQUKST  OF  GRANADA.  121 

sovereign  of  Granada.  The  people  were  pleased  with  having  a 
new  idol  to  look  up  to,  and  a  new  name  to  shout  forth ;  and 
El  Zagal  was  hailed  with  acclamations,  as  the  main  hope  of  the 
nation. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

HOW  KING  FERDINAND  COMMENCED   ANOTHER  CAMPAIGN  AGAINST 
THE  MOORS,  AND  HOW  HE  LAID   SIEGE  TO  COIN  AND  CARTAMA. 

THE  great  effect  of  the  battering  ordnance  in  demolishing 
the  Moorish  fortresses  in  the  preceding  year,  induced  king 
Ferdinand  to  procure  a  powerful  train  for  the  campaign  of 
1485,  in  the  course  of  which  he  resolved  to  assault  some  of  the 
most  formidable  holds  of  the  enemy.  An  army  of  nine  thou 
sand  cavalry  and  twenty  thousand  infantry  assembled  at  Cor 
dova,  early  in  the  spring ;  and  the  king  took  the  iield  on  the 
5th  of  April.  It  had  been  determined  in  secret  council,  to 
attack  the  city  of  Malaga,  that  ancient  and  important  sea-port, 
on  which  Granada  depended  for  foreign  aid  and  supplies.  It 
was  thought  proper  previously,  however,  to  get  possession  of 
various  towns  and  fortresses  in  the  valleys  of  Santa  Maria  and 
Cartama,  through  which  pass  the  roads  to  Malaga. 

The  first  place  assailed  was  the  town  of  Benamaquex.  It 
had  submitted  to  the  Catholic  sovereigns  in  the  preceding 
year,  but  had  since  renounced  its  allegiance.  King  Ferdinand 
was  enraged  at  the  rebellion  of  the  inhabitants.  "  I  will  make 
their  punishment,"  said  he,  "a  terror  to  others:  they  shall  be 
loyal  through  force,  if  not  through  faith."  The  place  was  car 
ried  by  storm:  one  hundred  and  eight  of  the  principal  inha 
bitants  were  either  put  to  the  sword  or  hanged  on  the  battle 
ments;  the  rest  were  carried  into  captivity.* 

The  towns  of  Coin  and  Cartama  were  besieged  on  the  same 
day ;  the  first  by  a  division  of  the  army  led  on  by  the  marques 
of  Cadiz,  the  second  by  another  division  commanded  by  Don 
Alonzo  de  Aguilar  and  Luis  Fernandez  Puerto  Carrero,  the 
brave  Senior  of  Palma.  The  king,  with  the  rest  of  the  army, 
remained  posted  between  the  two  places,  to  render  assistance 
to  either  division.  The  batteries  opened  upon  both  places  at 

*  Pulgar,  Garibay,  Cura  <}e  los  Palacios. 


122  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

the  same  time,  and  the  thunder  of  the  lombards  was  mutually 
heard  from  one  camp  to  the  other.  The  Moors  made  frequent 
sallies,  and  a  valiant  defence ;  but  they  were  confounded  by  the 
tremendous  uproar  of  the  batteries,  and  the  destruction  of  their 
walls.  In  the  mean  time,  the  alarm-fires  gathered  together  the 
Moorish  mountaineers  of  all  the  Serrania,  who  assembled  in 
great  numbers  in  the  city  of  Monda,  about  a  league  from  Coin. 
They  made  several  attempts  to  enter  the  besieged  town,  but 
in  vain;  they  were  each  time  intercepted  and  driven  back 
by  the  Christians,  and  were  reduced  to  gaze  at  a  distance  in 
despair  on  the  destruction  of  the  place.  While  thus  situated, 
there  rode  one  day  into  Monda  a  fierce  and  haughty  Moorish 
chieftain,  at  the  head  of  a  band  of  swarthy  African  horsemen ; 
it  was  Hamet  el  Zegri,  the  fiery-spirited  alcayde  of  Ronda,  at 
the  head  of  his  band  of  G-omeres.  He  had  not  yet  recovered 
from  the  rage  and  mortification  of  his  defeat  on  the  banks  of 
the  Lopera,  in  the  disastrous  foray  of  old  Bexir,  when  he  had 
been  obliged  t o  .steal  back  furtively  to  bis  mountains,  with  the 
loss  of  the  bravest  of  his  followers.  He  had  ever  since  panted 
for  revenge.  He  now  rode  among  the  host  of  warriors,  assem 
bled  at  Monda.  "Who  among  you,"  cried  he,  ' '  feels  pity  for 
the  women  and  children  of  Coin,  exposed  to  captivity  and 
death?  Whoever  he  is,  let  him  follow  me,  who  am  ready  to 
die  as  a  Moslem  for  the  relief  of  Moslems."  So  saying,  he 
seized  a  white  banner,  and,  waving  it  over  his  head,  rode  forth 
from  the  town,  followed  by  the  Gomeres.  Many  of  the  war 
riors,  roused  by  his  words  and  his  example,  spurred  resolutely 
after  his  banner.  The  people  of  Coin,  being  prepared  for  this 
attempt,  sallied  forth  as  they  saw  the  white  banner,  and  made 
an  attack  upon  the  Christian  camp ;  and  in  the  confusion  of 
the  moment,  Hamet  and  his  followers  galloped  into  the  gates. 
This  reinforcement  animated  the  besieged,  and  Hamet  ex 
horted  them  to  hold  out  obstinately  in  defence  of  life  and 
town.  As  the  Gomeres  were  veteran  warriors,  the  more  they 
were  attacked  the  harder  they  fought. 

At  length,  a  great  breach  was  made  in  the  walls,  and  Fer 
dinand,  who  was  impatient  of  the  resistance  of  the  place, 
ordered  the  duke  of  Naxera  and  the  count  of  Benavente  to 
enter  with  their  troops;  and  as  their  forces  were  not  suffi 
cient,  he  sent  word  to  Luis  de  Cerda,  duke  of  Medina  Celi,  to 
send  a  part  of  his  people  to  their  assistance. 

The  feudal  pride  of  the  duke  was  roused  at  this  demand. 
"Tell  my  lord  the  king,"  said  the  haughty  grandee,  "that  I 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

come  to  succor  him  with  my  household  troops:  if  my 
people  are  ordered  to  any  place,  I  am  to  go  with  them ;  but  if 
I  am  to  remain  in  the  camp,  my  people  must  remain  with  me. 
For  the  troops  cannot  serve  without  their  commander,  nor 
their  commander  without  his  troops." 

The  reply  of  the  high-spirited  grandee  perplexed  the  cautious 
Ferdinand,  who  knew  the  jealous  pride  of  his  powerful  nobles. 
In  the  mean  time,  the  people  of  the  camp,  having  made  all 
preparations  for  the  assault,  were  impatient  to  be  led  forward. 
Upon  this,  Pero  Ruyz  de  Alarcon  put  himself  at  their  head, 
and,  seizing  their  maiitas,  or  portable  bulwarks,  and  their 
other  defences,  they  made  a  gallant  assault,  and  fought  their 
way  in  at  the  breach.  The  Moors  were  so  overcome  by  the 
fury  of  their  assault,  that  they  retreated  fighting  to  the  square 
of  the  town.  Pero  Ruyz  de  Alarcon  thought  the  place  was  car 
ried,  when  suddenly  Hamet  and  his  Gomeres  came  scouring 
through  the  streets  with  wild  war-cries,  and  fell  furiously  upon 
the  Christians.  The  latter  were  in  their  turn  beaten  back,  and, 
while  attacked  in  front  by  the  Gomeres,  were  assailed  by  the 
inhabitants  with  all  kinds  of  missiles  from  their  roofs  and  win 
dows.  They  at  length  gave  way,  and  retreated  through  the 
breach.  Pero  Ruyz  de  Alarcon  still  maintained  his  ground 
in  one  of  the  principal  streets — the  few  cavaliers  that  stood  by 
him  urged  him  to  fly :  "  No,"  said  he;  "I  came  here  to  fight, 
and  not  to  fly."  He  was  presently  surrounded  by  the  Go 
meres  ;  his  companions  fled  for  their  lives ;  the  last  they  saw 
of  him,  he  was  covered  with  wounds,  but  still  fighting  despe 
rately  for  the  fame  of  a  good  cavalier.* 

The  resistance  of  the  inhabitants,  though  aided  by  the  valor 
of  the  Gomeres,  was  of  no  avail.  The  battering  artillery  of 
the  Christians  demolished  their  walls;  combustibles  were 
thrown  into  their  town,  which  set  it  on  fire  in  various  places ; 
and  they  were  at  length  compelled  to  capitulate.  They  were 
permitted  to  depart  with  their  effects,  and  the  Gomeres  with 
their  arms.  Hamet  el  Zegri  and  his  African  band  sallied  forth, 
and  rode  proudly  through  the  Christian  camp ;  nor  could  the 
Spanish  cavaliers  refrain  from  regarding  with  admiration  that 
haughty  warrior  and  his  devoted  and  dauntless  followers. 

The  capture  of  Coin  was  accompanied  by  that  of  Cartama : 
the  fortifications  of  the  latter  were  repaired  ana  garrisoned ; 
but  Coin  being  too  extensive  to  be  defended  by  a  moderate 


Pulgar,  part  3,  cap.  42. 


124  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.    < 

force,  its  walls  were  demolished.  The  siege  of  these  places 
struck  such  terror  into  the  surrounding  country  that  the 
Moors  of  many  of  the  neighboring  towns  abandoned  their 
homes,  and  fled  with  such  of  their  effects  as  they  could  carry 
away;  upon  which  the  king  gave  orders  to  demolish  their 
walls  and  towers. 

King  Ferdinand  now  left  his  camp  and  his  heavy  artillery 
near  Cartama,  and  proceeded  with  his  lighter  troops  to  recon 
noitre  Malaga.  By  this  time,  the  secret  plan  of  attack,  ar 
ranged  in  the  council  of  war  at  Cordova,  was  known  to  all  the 
world.  The  vigilant  warrior  El  Zagal  had  thrown  himself 
into  the  place ;  he  had  p\it  all  the  fortifications,  which  were  of 
vast  strength,  into  a  state  of  defence ;  and  had  sent  orders  to 
the  alcaydes  of  the  mountain  town,  to  hasten  with  their  forces 
to  his  assistance. 

The  very  day  that  Ferdinand  appeared  before  the  place,  El 
Zagal  sallied  forth  to  receive  him,  at  the  head  of  a  thousand 
cavalry,  the  choicest  warriors  of  Granada.  A  hot  skirmish 
took  place  among  the  gardens  and  olive-trees  near  the  city. 
Many  were  killed  on  both  sides ;  and  this  gave  the  Christians  a 
sharp  foretaste  of  what  they  might  expect,  if  they  attempted 
to  besiege  the  place. 

When  the  skirmish  was  over,  the  marques  of  Cadiz  had  a 
private  conference  with  the  king.  He  represented  the  diffi 
culty  of  besieging  Malaga  with  their  present  force,  especially 
as  their  plans  had  been  discovered  and  anticipated,  and  the 
whole  country  was  marching  over  the  mountains  to  oppose 
them.  The  marques,  who  had  secret  intelligence  from  all 
quarters,  had  received  a  letter  from  Juceph  Xerife,  a  Moor  of 
Ronda,  of  Christian  lineage,  apprising  him  of  the  situation  of 
that  important  place  and  its  garrison,  which  at  that  moment 
laid  it  open  to  attack;  and  the  marques  was  urgent  with. the 
king  to  seize  upon  this  critical  moment,  and  secure  a  place  which 
was  one  of  the  most  powerful  Moorish  fortresses  on  the  fron 
tiers,  and  in  the  hands  of  Hamet  el  Zegri  had  been  the  scourge 
of  Andalusia.  The  good  marques  had  another  motive  for  his 
advice,  becoming  of  a  true  and  loyal  knight.  In  the  deep 
dungeons  of  Honda  languished  several  of  his  companions  in 
arms,  who  had  been  captured  in  the  defeat  in  the  Axarquia. 
To  break  their  chains,  and  restore  them  to  liberty  and  light, 
he  felt  to  be  his  peculiar  duty,  as  one  of  those  who  had  most 
promoted  that  disastrous  enterprise. 

King  Ferdinand  listened  to  the  advice  of  the  marques.    H$ 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  125 

knew  the  importance  of  Honda,  which  was  considered  one  of 
the  keys  to  the  kingdom  of  Granada ;  and  he  was  disposed  to 
punish  the  inhabitants,  for  the  aid  they  had  rendered  to  the 
garrison  of  Coin.  The  siege  of  Malaga,  therefore,  was  aban 
doned  for  the  present,  and  preparations  made  for  a  rapid  and 
secret  move  against  the  city  of  Honda. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

SIEGE  OF  RONDA.  ' 

THE  bold  Hamet  el  Zegri,  the  alcayde  of  Honda,  had  re 
turned  sullenly  to  his  strong-hold,  after  the  surrender  of  Coin. 
He  had  fleshed  his  sword  in  battle  with  the  Christians,  but  his 
thirst  for  vengeance  was  still  unsatisfied.  Hamet  gloried  in 
the  strength  of  his  fortress,  and  the  valor  of  his  people.  A 
fierce  and  warlike  populace  was  at  his  command ;  his  signal- 
fires  could  summon  all  the  warriors  of  the  Serrania;  his 
Gomeres  almost  subsisted  on  the  spoils  of  Andalusia ;  and  in 
the  rock  on  which  his  fortress  was  built,  were  hopeless  dun 
geons,  filled  with  Christian  captives,  who  had  been  carried  off 
by  these  war-hawks  of  the  mountains. 

Honda  was  considered  as  impregnable.  It  was  situated  in 
the  heart  of  wild  and  rugged  mountains,  and  perched  upon  an 
isolated  rock,  crested  by  a  strong  citadel,  with  triple  walls  and 
towers.  A  deep  ravine,  or  rather  a  perpendicular  chasm  of 
the  rocks,  of  frightful  depth,  surrounded  three  parts  of  the 
city;  through  this  flowed  the  Rio  Verde,  or  Green  river. 
There  were  two  suburbs  to  the  city,  fortified  by  walls  and 
towers,  and  almost  inaccessible,  from  the  natural  asperity  of 
the  rocks.  Around  this  rugged  city  were  deep  rich  valleys, 
sheltered  by  the  mountains,  refreshed  by  constant  streams, 
abounding  with  grain  and  the  most  delicious  fruits,  and  yield 
ing  verdant  meadows,  in  which  was  reared  a  renowned  breed 
of  horses,  the  best  in  the  whole  kingdom  for  a  foray. 

Hamet  el  Zegri  had  scarcely  returned  to  Honda,  when  he 
received  intelligence  that  the  Christian  army  was  marching  to 
the  siege  of  Malaga,  and  orders  from  El  Zagal  to  send  troops  to 
his  assistance.  Hamet  sent  a  part  of  his  garrison  for  that  pur 
pose  ;  in  the  mean  time,  he  meditated  an  expedition  to  whiclj 


126  THE  CONQUEST  OF  OR  AN  AD  A. 

he  was  stimulated  by  pride  and  revenge.  All  Andalusia  was 
now  drained  of  its  troops ;  there  was  an  opportunity  therefore 
for  an  inroad,  by  which  he  might  wipe  out  the  disgrace  of  his 
defeat  at  the  battle  of  Lopera.  Apprehending  no  danger  to  his 
mountain  city,  now  that  the  storm  of  war  had  passed  down 
into  the  vega  of  Malaga,  he  left  but  a  remnant  of  his  garrison 
to  man  its  walls,  and  putting  himself  at  the  head  of  his  band 
of  Gomeres,  swept  down  suddenly  into  the  plains  of  Andalusia. 
He  careered,  almost  without  resistance,  over  those  vast  cam- 
piilas  or  pasture  lands,  which  formed  a  part  of  the  domains  of 
the  duke  of  Medina  Sidonia.  In  vain  the  bells  were  rung,  and 
the  alarm-fires  kindled— the  band  of  Hamet  had  passed  by, 
before  any  force  could  be  assembled,  and  was  only  to  be  traced, 
like  a  hurricane,  by  the  devastation  it  had  made. 

Hamet  regained  in  safety  the  Serrania  de  Ronda,  exulting  in 
his  successful  inroad.  The  mountain  glens  were  filled  with 
long  droves  of  cattle  and  flocks  of  sheep,  from  the  campiilas  of 
Medina  Sidonia.  There  were  mules,  too,  laden  with  tlie  plun 
der  of  the  villages ;  and  every  warrior  had  some  costly  spoil  of 
jewels,  for  his  favorite  mistress. 

As  the  Zegri  drew  near  to  Ronda,  he  was  roused  from  his 
dream  of  triumph  by  the  sound  of  heavy  ordnance  bellowing 
through  the  mountain  defiles.  His  heart  misgave  him— he  put 
spurs  to  his  horse,  and  galloped  in  advance  of  his  lagging  caval- 
gada.  As  he  proceeded,  the  noise  of  the  ordnance  increased, 
echoing  from  cliff  to  cliff.  Spurring  his  horse  up  a  craggy 
height  which  commanded  an  extensive  view,  he  beheld,  to  his 
consternation,  the  country  about  Ronda  white  with  the  tents 
of  a  besieging  army.  The  royal  standard,  displayed  before  a 
proud  encampment,  showed  that  Ferdinand  himself  was  pre 
sent  ;  while  the  incessant  blaze  and  thunder  of  artillery,  and 
the  volumes  of  overhanging  smoke,  told  the  work  of  destruc 
tion  that  was  going  on. 

The  royal  army  had  succeeded  in  coming  upon  Ronda  by 
surprise,  during  the  absence  of  its  alcayde  and  most  of  its  gar 
rison;  but  its  inhabitants  were  warlike,  and  defended  thorn- 
selves  bravely,  trusting  that  Hamet  and  his  Gomeres  would 
soon  return  to  their  assistance. 

The  fancied  strength  of  their  bulwarks  had  been  of  little 
avail  against  the  batteries  of  the  besiegers.  In  the  space  of 
four  days,  three  towers,  and  great  masses  of  the  walls  which 
defended  the  suburbs,  were  battered  down,  and  the  suburbs 
taken  and  plundered.  Lombards  and  other  heavy  ordnance 


THE  CONQUEST  OP  GRANADA.  127 

were  now  levelled  at  the  walls  of  the  city,  and  stones  and  mis 
siles  of  all  kinds  hurled  into  the  streets.  The  rery  rock  on 
which  the  city  stood  shook  with  the  thunder  of  the  artillery ; 
and  the  Christian  captives,  deep  within  its  dungeons,  hailed 
the  sound  as  the  promise  of  deliverance. 

When  Hamet  el  Zegri  beheld  his  city  thus  surrounded  and 
assailed,  he  called  upon  his  men  to  follow  him,  and  make  a 
desperate  attempt  to  cut  their  way  through  to  its  relief .  They 
proceeded  stealthily  through  the  mountains,  until  they  came 
to  the  nearest  heights  above  the  Christian  camp.  When  night 
fell,  and  part  of  the  army  was  sunk  in  sleep,  they  descended 
the  rocks,  and  rushing  suddenly  upon  the  weakest  part  of  the 
camp,  endeavored  to  break  their  way  through  and  gain  the 
city.  The  camp  was  too  strong  to  be  forced ;  they  were  driven 
back  to  the  crags  of  the  mountains,  from  whence  they  defend 
ed  themselves  by  showering  down  darts  and  stones  upon  their 
pursuers. 

Hamet  now  lit  alarm-fires  above  the  heights :  his  standard 
was  joined  by  the  neighboring  mountaineers,  and  by  troops 
from  Malaga.  Thus  reinforced,  he  made  repeated  assaults 
upon  the  Christians,  cutting  off  all  stragglers  from  the  camp. 
AlThis  attempts,  however,  to  force  his  way  into  the  city,  were 
fruitless;  many  of  his  bravest  men  were  slain,  and  he  was 
obliged  to  retreat  into  the  fastnesses  of  the  mountains. 

In  the  meanwhile,  the  distress  of  Ronda  was  hourly  increas 
ing.  The  marques  of  Cadiz,  having  possession  of  the  suburbs, 
was  enabled  to  approach  to  the  very  foot  of  the  perpendicular 
precipice  rising  from  the  river,  on  the  summit  of  which  the 
city  is  built.  At  the  foot  of  this  rock  is  a  living  fountain  of 
limpid  water,  gushing  into  a  great  natural  basin.  A  secret 
mine  led  down  from  within  the  city  to  this  fountain  by  several 
hundred  steps  cut  in  the  solid  rock.  From  hence  the  city  ob 
tained  its  chief  supply  of  water ;  and  these  steps  were  deeply 
worn  by  the  weary  feet  of  Christian  captives,  employed  in 
this  painful  labor.  The  marques  of  Cadiz  discovered  this  sub 
terranean  passage,  and  directed  his  pioneers  to  countermine 
in  the  side  of  the  rock :  they  pierced  to  the  shaft,  and,  stop 
ping  it  up,  deprived  the  city  of  the  benefit  of  this  precious 
fountain. 

While  the  brave  marques  of  Cadiz  was  thus  pressing  the 
siege  with  zeal,  and  glowing  with  the  generous  thoughts  of 
soon  delivering  his  companions  in  arms  from  the  Moorish 
dungeons,  far  other  were  the  feelings  of  the  alcayde  Hamet  el 


128  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

Zegri.  He  smote  his  breast  and  gnashed  his  teeth  in  impotent 
fury,  as  he  beheld  from  the  mountain  cliffs  the  destruction  of 
the  city.  Every  thunder  of  the  Christian  ordnance  seemed  to 
batter  against  his  heart.  He  saw  tower  after  tower  tumbling 
by  day,  and  at  night  the  city  blazed  like  a  volcano.  "They 
fired  not  merely  stones  from  their  ordnance,"  says  a  chronicler 
of  the  times,  "  but  likewise  great  balls  of  iron,  cast  in  moulds, 
which  demolished  every  thing  they  struck."  They  threw  also 
balls  of  tow,  steeped  in  pitch  and  oil  and  gunpowder,  which, 
when  once  on  fire,  were  not  to  be  extinguished,  and  which  set 
the  houses  in  flames.  Great  was  the  horror  of  the  inhabitants : 
they  knew  not  where  to  fly  for  refuge :  their  houses  were  in  a 
blaze,  or  shattered  by  the  ordnance ;  the  streets  were  perilous 
from  the  falling  ruins  and  the  bounding  balls,  which  dashed 
to  pieces  every  thing  they  encountered.  At  night,  the  city 
looked  like  a  fiery  furnace ;  the  cries  and  wailings  of  the  wo 
men  were  heard  between  the  thunders  of  the  ordnance,  and 
reached  even  to  the  Moors  on  the  opposite  mountains,  who 
answered  them  by  yells  of  fury  and  despair. 

All  hope  of  external  succor  being  at  an  end,  the  inhabitants 
of  Honda  were  compelled  to  capitulate.  Ferdinand  was  easily 
prevailed  upon  to  grant  them  favorable  terms.  The  place  was 
capable  of  longer  resistance ;  and  he  feared  for  the  safety  of 
his  camp,  as  the  forces  were  daily  augmenting  on  the  moun 
tains,  and  making  frequent  assaults.  The  inhabitants  were 
permitted  to  depart  with  their  effects,  either  to  Barbary  or 
elsewhere ;  and  those  who  chose  to  reside  in  Spain,  had  lands 
assigned  them,  and  were  indulged  in  the  practice  of  their 
religion. 

No  sooner  did  the  place  surrender,  than  detachments  were 
sent  to  attack  the  Moors  who  hovered  about  the  neighboring 
mountains.  Hamet  el  Zegri,  however,  did  not  remain  to  make 
a  fruitless  battle.  He  gave  up  the  game  as  lost,  and  retreated 
with  his  Gomeres,  filled  with  grief  and  rage,  but  trusting  to 
fortune  to  give  him  future  vengeance. 

The  first  care  of  the  good  marques  of  Cadiz,  on  entering 
Honda,  was  to  deliver  his  unfortunate  companions  in  arms 
from  the  dungeons  of  the  fortress.  What  a  difference  in  their 
looks  from  the  time  when,  flushed  with  health  and  hope,  and 
arrayed  in  military  pomp,  they  had  sallied  forth  upon  the 
mountain  foray!  Many  of  them  were  almost  naked,  with 
irons  at  their  ankles,  and  beards  reaching  to  their  waists. 
Their  meeting  with  the  marques  was  joyful;  yet  it  had  the 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA,  129 

look  of  grief,  fior  thoir  joy  was  mingled  with  many  bitter 
recollections.  There  was  an  immense  number  of  other  cap 
tives,  among  whom  were  several  young  men  of  noble  families, 
who,  with  filial  piety,  had  surrendered  themselves  prisoners  in 
place  of  their  fathers. 

The  captives  were  all  provided  with  mules,  and  sent  to  the 
queen  at  Cordova.  The  humane  heart  of  Isabella  melted  at 
the  sight  of  the  piteous  cavalcade.  They  were  all  supplied  by 
her  with  food  and  raiment,  and  money  to  pay  their  expenses 
to  their  homes.  Their  chains  were  hung  as  pious  trophies 
against  the  exterior  of  the  church  of  St.  Juan  de  los  Reyes,  in 
Toledo,  where  the  Christian  traveller  may  regale  his  eyes  with 
the  sight  of  then!  at  this  very  day. 

Among  the  Moorish  captives  was  a  young  infidel  maiden,  of 
great  beauty,  who  desired  to  become  a  Christian  and  to  remain 
in  Spain.  She  had  been  inspired  with  the  light  of  the  true 
faith,  through  the  ministry  of  a  young  man  who  had  been  a 
captive  in  Ronda.  He  was  anxious  to  complete  his  good  work 
by  marrying  her.  The  queen  consented  to  their  pious  wishes, 
having  first  taken  care  that  the  young  maiden  should  be  pro 
perly  purified  by  the  holy  sacrament  of  baptism. 

"  Thus  this  pestilent  nest  of  warfare  and  infidelity,  the  city 
of  Ronda,"  says  the  worthy  Fray  Antonio  Agapida,  "  was  con 
verted  to  the  true  faith  by  the  thunder  of  our  artillery — an 
example  which  was  soon  followed  by  Casanbonela,  Alarbella, 
and  other  towns  in  these  parts,  insomuch  that  in  the  course  of 
this  expedition  no  less  than  seventy-two  places  were  rescued 
from  the  vile  sect  of  Mahomet,  and  placed  under  the  benignant 
domination  of  the  cross." 


CHAPTER  ZXXI. 

HOW  THE  PEOPLE  OF  GRANADA  INVITED  EL  ZAGAL  TO  THE 
THRONE,    AND  HOW  HE  MARCHED  TO  THE  CAPITAL. 

THE  people  of  Granada  were  a  versatile,  unsteady  race,  and 
exceedingly  given  to  make  and  unmake  kings.  They  had,  for 
a  long  time,  vacillated  between  old  Muley  Aben  Hassan  and 
his  son  Boabdil  el  Chico,  sometimes  setting  up  the  one,  some 
times  the  other,  and  sometimes  both  at  once,  according  to  the 
pitch  and  pressure  of  external  evils,  They  found,  however, 


130  THE  CONQUEST  OF  OR  AN  AD  A. 

that  the  evils  still  went  on  increasing,  in  defiance  of  every 
change,  and  were  at  their  wits'  end  to  devise  some  new  com 
bination  or  arrangement,  by  which  an  efficient  government 
might  be  wrought  out  of  two  bad  kings.  When  the  tidings 
arrived  of  the  fall  of  Ronda,  and  the  consequent  ruin  of  the 
frontier,  a  tumultuous  assemblage  took  place  in  one  of  the 
public  squares.  As  usual,  the  people  attributed  the  misfor 
tunes  of  the  country  to  the  faults  of  their  rulers;  for  the 
populace  never  imagine  that  any  part  of  their  miseries  can 
originate  with  themselves.  A  crafty  alfaqui,  named  Alyme 
Mazer,  who  had  watched  the  current  of  their  discontents, 
rose  and  harangued  them:  "You  have  been  choosing  and 
changing,"  said  he,  "between  two  monarch's— and  who  and 
what  are  they?  Muley  Aben  Hassan,  for  one;  a  man  worn 
out  by  age  and  infirmities,  unable  to  sally  forth  against  the 
foe,  even  when  ravaging  to  the  very  gates  of  the  city:— and 
Boabdil  el  Chico,  for  the  other;  an  apostate,  a  traitor,  a  de 
serter  from  his  throne,  a  fugitive  among  the  enemies  of  his 
nation,  a  man  fated  to  misfortune,  and  proverbially  named 
4 the  unlucky.'  In  a  time  of  overwhelming  war,  like  the 
present,  he  only  is  fit  to  sway  a  sceptre  who  can  wield  a 
sword.  Would  you  seek  such  a  man?  You  need  not  look 
far. '  Allah  has  sent  such  a  one,  in  this  time  of  distress,  to 
retrieve  the  fortunes  of  Granada.  You  already  know  whom 
I  mean.  You  know  that  it  can  be  no  other  than  your  gen 
eral,  the  invincible  Abdallah,  whose  surname  of  El  Zagal 
has  become  a  watch-word  in  battle,  rousing  the  courage  of 
the  faithful,  and  striking  terror  into  the  unbelievers." 

The  multitude  received  the  words  of  the  alfaqui  with  ac 
clamations  ;  they  were  delighted  with  the  idea  of  a  third  king 
over  Granada ;  and  Abdalla  el  Zagal  being  of  the  royal  family, 
and  already  in  the  virtual  exercise  of  royal  power,  the  measure 
had  nothing  in  it  that  appeared  either  rash  or  violent.  A 
deputation  was  therefore  sent  to  El  Zagal  at  Malaga,  inviting 
him  to  repair  to  Granada  to  receive  the  crown. 

El  Zagal  expressed  great  surprise  and  repugnance,  when  the 
mission  was  announced  to  him ;  and  nothing  but  his  patriotic 
zeal  for  the  public  safety,  and  his  fraternal  eagerness  to  relieve 
the  aged  Aben  Hassan  from  the  cares  of  government,  pre 
vailed  upon  him  to  accept  the  offer.  Leaving,  therefore, 
Rodovan  Vanegas,  one  of  the  bravest  Moorish  generals,  in 
command  of  Malaga,  he  departed  for  Granada,  attended  by 
three  hundred  trusty  cavaliers. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA,  131 

Old  Muley  Aben  Hassan  did  not  wait  for  the  arrival  of  his 
brother.  Unable  any  longer  to  buffet  with  the  storms  of  the 
times,  his  only  solicitude  was  to  seek  some  safe  and  quiet  har 
bor  of  repose.  In  one  of  the  deep  valleys  which  indent  the 
Mediterranean  coast,  and  which  are  shut  up  on  the  land  side 
by  stupendous  mountains,  stood  the  little  city  of  Almunecar. 
The  valley  was  watered  by  the  limpid  river  Frio,  and 
abounded  with  fruits,  with  grain  and  pasturage.  The  city 
was  strongly  fortified,  and  the  garrison  and  alcayde  were 
devoted  to  the  old  monarch.  This  was  the  place  chosen  by 
Muley  Aben  Hassan  for  his  asylum.  His  first  care  was  to 
send  thither  all  his  treasures ;  his  next  care  was  to  take  refuge 
there  himself;  his  third,  that  his  sultana  Zorayna,  and  their 
two  sons,  should  follow  him. 

In  the  mean  time,  Muley  Abdallah  el  Zagal  pursued  his  jour 
ney  towards  the  capital,  attended  by  his  three  hundred  cava 
liers.  The  road  from  Malaga  to  Granada  winds  close  by 
Alhama,  and  is  dominated  by  that  lofty  fortress.  This  had 
been  a  most  perilous  pass  for  the  Moors,  during  the  time  that 
Alhama  was  commanded  by  the  count  de  Tendilla :  not  a  trav 
eller  could  escape  his  eagle  eye,  and  his  garrison  was  ever 
ready  for  a  sally.  The  count  de  Tendilla,  however,  had  been 
relieved  from  this  arduous  post,  and  it  had  been  given  in 
charge  to  Don  G-utiere  de  Padilla,  clavero,  or  treasurer  of  the 
order  of  Calatrava;  an  easy,  indulgent  man,  who  had  with 
him  three  hundred  gallant  knights  of  his  order,  besides  other 
mercenary  troops.  The  garrison  had  fallen  off  in  discipline ; 
the  cavaliers  were  hardy  in  fight  and  daring  in  foray,  but  con 
fident  in  themselves  and  negligent  of  proper  precautions. 
Just  before  the  journey  of  El  Zagal,  a  number  of  these  cava 
liers,  with  several  soldiers  of  fortune  of  the  garrison,  in  all 
about  one  hundred  and  seventy  men,  had  sallied  forth  to 
harass  the  Moorish  country  during  its  present  distracted  state, 
and,  having  ravaged  the  valleys  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  or 
Snowy  Mountains,  were  returning  to  Alhama  in  gay  spirits 
and  laden  with  booty. 

As  El  Zagal  passed  through  the  neighborhood  of  Alhama,  he 
recollected  the  ancient  perils  of  the  road,  and  sent  light  cerra- 
dors  in  advance,  to  inspect  each  rock  and  ravine  where  a  foe 
might  lurk  in  ambush.  One  of  these  scouts,  overlooking  a 
narrow  valley  which  opened  upon  the  road,  descried  a  troop  of 
horsemen  on  the  banks  of  a  little  stream.  They  were  dis 
mounted,  and  had  taken  the  bridles  from  their  steeds,  that 


132  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

they  might  crop  the  fresh  grass  on  the  banks  of  the  river. 
The  horsemen  were  scattered  about,  some  reposing  in  the 
shades  of  rocks  and  trees,  others  gambling  for  the  spoil  they 
had  taken:  not  a  sentinel  was  posted  to  keep  guard;  every 
thing  showed  the  perfect  security  of  men  who  consider  them 
selves  beyond  the  reach  of  danger. 

These  careless  cavaliers  were  in  fact  the  knights  of  Gala- 
trava,  with  a  part  of  their  companions  in  arms,  returning  from 
their  foray.  A  part  of  their  force  had  passed  on  with  tho 
cavalgada;  ninety  of  the  principal  cavaliers  had  halted  to  re 
fresh  themselves  in  this  valley.  El  Zagal  smiled  with  ferocious 
joy,  when  he  heard  of  their  negligent  security.  "  Here  will  be 
trophies,"  said  he,  "to  grace  our  entrance  into  Granada." 

Approaching  the  valley  with  cautious  silence,  he  wheeled 
into  it  at  full  speed  at  the  head  of  his  troop,  and  attacked  the 
Christians  so  suddenly  and  furiously,  that  they  had  not  time 
to  put  the  bridles  upon  their  horses,  or  even  to  leap  into  the 
saddles.  They  made  a  confused  but  valiant  defence,  fighting 
among  the  rocks,  and  in  the  rugged  bed  of  the  river.  Their 
defence  was  useless ;  seventy-nine  were  slain,  and  the  remain 
ing  eleven  were  taken  prisoners. 

A  party  of  the  Moors  galloped  in  pursuit  of  the  cavalgada : 
they  soon  overtook  it,  winding  slowly  up  a  hill.  The  horse 
men  who  convoyed  it,  perceiving  the  enemy  at  a  distance, 
made  their  escape,  and  left  the  spoil  to  be  retaken  by  the 
Moors.  El  Zagal  gathered  together  his  captives  and  his  booty, 
and  proceeded,  elate  with  success,  to  Granada. 

He  paused  before  the  gate  of  Elvira,  for  as  yet  he  had  not 
been  proclaimed  king.  This  ceremony  was  immediately  per 
formed  ;  for  the  fame  of  his  recent  exploit  had  preceded  him, 
and  had  intoxicated  the  minds  of  the  giddy  populace.  He 
entered  Granada  in  a  sort  of  triumph.  The  eleven  captive 
knights  of  Calatrava  walked  in  front :  next  were  paraded  the 
ninety  captured  steeds,  bearing  the  armor  and  weapons  of 
their  late  owners,  and  led  by  as  many  mounted  Moors :  then 
came  seventy  Moorish  horsemen,  with  as  many  Christian 
heads  hanging  at  their  saddle-bows :  Muley  Abdallah  el  Zagal 
followed,  surrounded  by  a  number  of  distinguished  cavaliers 
splendidly  attired ;  and  the  pageant  was  closed  by  a  long  cav 
algada  of  the  flocks  and  herds,  and  other  booty,  recovered 
from  the  Christians.* 


*  Zurita,  lib.  20,  c.  62.    Mariana,  Hist,  de  Espafia.    Abarca,  Anales  de  Aragon. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  133 

The  populace  gazed  with  almost  savage  triumph  at  these 
captive  cavaliers  and  the  gory  heads  of  their  companions, 
knowing  them  to  have  been  part  of  the  formidable  garrison  of 
Alhama,  so  long  the  scourge  of  Granada  and  the  terror  of  the 
vega.  They  hailed  this  petty  triumph  as  an  auspicious  open 
ing  of  the  reign  of  their  new  monarch ;  for  several  days,  the 
names  of  Muley  Aben  Hassan  and  Boabdil  el  Chico  were  never 
mentioned  but  with  contempt,  and  the  whole  city  resounded 
with  the  praises  of  El  Zagal,  or  the  valiant. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

HOW  THE  COUNT  DE  CABRA  ATTEMPTED  TO  CAPTURE  ANOTHER 
KING,  AND  HOW  HE  FARED  IN  HIS  ATTEMPT. 

THE  elevation  of  a  bold  and  active  veteran  to  the  throne  of 
Granada,  in  place  of  its  late  bedridden  king,  made  an  impor 
tant  difference  in  the  aspect  of  the  war,  and  called  for  some 
blow  that  should  dash  the  confidence  of  the  Moors  in  their  new 
monarch,  and  animate  the  Christians  to  fresh  exertions. 

Don  Diego  de  Cordova,  the  brave  count  de  Cabra,  was  at 
this  time  in  his  castle  of  Vaena,  where  he  kept  a  wary  eye 
upon  the  frontier.  It  was  now  the  latter  part  of  August,  and 
he  grieved  that  the  summer  should  pass  away  without  an  in 
road  into  the  country  of  the  foe.  He  sent  out  his  scouts  on 
the  prowl,  and  they  brought  him  word  that  the  important  post 
of  Moclin  was  but  weakly  garrisoned.  This  was  a  castellated 
town,  strongly  situated  upon  a  high  mountain,  partly  sur 
rounded  by  thick  forests,  and  partly  girdled  by  a  river.  It 
defended  one  of  the  rugged  and  solitary  passes,  by  which  the 
Christians  were  wont  to  make  their  inroads ;  insomuch  that  the 
Moors,  in  their  figurative  way,  denominated  it  the  shield  of 
Granada. 

The  count  de  Cabra  sent  word  to  the  monarchs  of  the  feeble 
state  of  the  garrison,  and  gave  it  as  his  opinion,  that,  by  a 
secret  and  rapid  expedition,  the  plaoe  might  be  surprised. 
King  Ferdinand  asked  the  advice  of  his  counsellors.  Some 
cautioned  him  against  the  sanguine  temperament  of  the  count, 
and  his  heedlessness  of  danger;  Moclin,  they  observed,  was 
near  to  Granada,  and  might  be  promptly  reinforced.  The 
opinion  of  the  count,  however,  prevailed ;  the  king  considering 


134  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

him  almost  infallible,  in  matters  of  border  warfare,  since  hi<; 
capture  of  Boabdil  el  Chico. 

The  king  departed,  therefore,  from  Cordova,  and  took  post 
at  Alcala  la  Keal,  for  the  purpose  of  being  near  to  Moclin. 
The  queen,  also,  proceeded  to  Vacua,  accompanied  by  her 
children,  prince  Juan  and  the  princess  Isabella,  and  her  great 
counsellor  in  all  matters,  public  and  private,  spiritual  and  tem 
poral,  the  venerable  grand  cardinal  of  Spain. 

Nothing  could  exceed  the  pride  and  satisfaction  of  the  loyal 
count  de  Cabra,  when  he  saw  this  stately  train  winding  along 
the  dreary  mountain  roads,  and  entering  the  gates  of  Vaena. 
He  received  his  royal  guests  with  all  due  ceremony,  and 
lodged  them  in  the  best  apartments  that  the  warrior  castle 
afforded,  being  the  same  that  had  formerly  been  occupied  by 
the  royal  captive  Boabdil. 

King  Ferdinand  had  concerted  a  wary  plan,  to  insure  the 
success  of  the  enterprise.  The  count  de  Cabra  and  Don 
Martin  Alonzo  de  Montemayor  were  to  set  forth  with  their 
troops,  so  as  to  reach  Moclin  by  a  certain  hour,  and  to  inter 
cept  all  who  should  attempt  to  enter,  or  should  sally  from  the 
town.  The  Master  of  Calatrava,  the  troops  of  the  grand  car 
dinal,  commanded  by  the  count  of  Buendia,  and  the  forces  of 
the  bishop  of  Jaen,  led  by  that  belligerent  prelate,  amounting 
in  all  to  four  thousand  horse  and  six  thousand  foot,  were  to  set 
off  iii  time  to  co-operate  with  the  count  de  Cabra,  so  as  to  sur 
round  the  town.  The  king  was  to  follow  with  his  whole  force, 
and  encamp  before  the  place. 

And  here  the  worthy  padre  Fray  Antonio  Agapida  breaks 
forth  into  a  triumphant  eulogy  of  the  pious  prelates,  who  thus 
mingled  personally  in  these  scenes  of  warfare.  As  this  was  a 
holy  crusade  (says  he)  undertaken  for  the  advancement  of  the 
faith  and  the  glory  of  the  church,  so  was  it  always  coun 
tenanced  and  upheld  by  saintly  men :  for  the  victories  of  their 
most  Catholic  majesties  were  not  followed,  like  those  of  mere 
worldly  sovereigns,  by  erecting  castles  and  towers,  and  ap 
pointing  alcaydes  and  garrisons ;  but  by  the  founding  of  con 
vents  and  cathedrals,  and  the  establishment  of  wealthy  bishop 
rics.  Wherefore  their  majesties  were  always  surrounded,  in 
court  or  camp,  in  the  cabinet  or  in  the  field,  by  a  crowd  of 
ghostly  advisers,  inspiriting  them  to  the  prosecution  of  this 
most  righteous  war.  Nay,  the  holy  men  of  the  church  did  not 
scruple,  at  times,  to  buckle  on  the  cuirass  over  the  cassock, 
to  exchange  the  crosier  for  the  lance,  and  thus,  with  corporal 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  135 

hands  and  temporal  weapons,  to  fight  the  good  fight  of  the 
faith. 

But  to  return  from  this  rhapsody  of  the  worthy  friar.  The 
count  de  Cabra,  being  instructed  in  the  complicated  arrange 
ments  of  the  king,  marched  forth  at  midnight  to  execute  them 
punctually.  He  led  his  troops  by  the  little  river  that  winds 
below  Vaena,  and  so  up  the  wild  defiles  of  the  mountains, 
marching  all  night,  and  stopping  only  in  the  heat  of  the  fol 
lowing  day,  to  repose  under  the  shadowy  cliffs  of  a  deep 
barranca,  calculating  to  arrive  at  Moclin  exactly  in  time  to  co 
operate  with  the  other  forces. 

The  troops  had  scarcely  stretched  themselves  on  the  earth  to 
take  repose,  when  a  scout  arrived,  bringing  word  that  El 
Zagal  had  suddenly  sallied  out  of  Granada  with  a  strong  force, 
and  had  encamped  in  the  vicinity  of  Moclin.  It  was  plain  that 
the  wary  Moor  had  received  information  of  the  intended  at 
tack.  This,  however,  was  not  the  idea  that  presented  itself  to 
the  mind  of  the  count  de  Cabra.  He  had  captured  one  king 
— here  was  a  fair  opportunity  to  secure  another.  What  a  tri 
umph,  to  lodge  another  captive  monarch  in  his  castle  of 
Vaena !— what  a  prisoner  to  deliver  into  the  hands  of  his  royal 
mistress!  Fired  with  the  thoughts,  the  good  count  forgot 
all  the  arrangements  of  the  king ;  or  rather,  blinded  by  former 
success,  he  trusted  every  thing  to  courage  and  fortune,  and 
thought  that,  by  one  bold  swoop,  he  might  again  bear  off  the 
royal  prize,  and  wear  his  laurels  without  competition.*  His 
only  fear  was  that  the  Master  of  Calatrava,  and  the  belliger 
ent  bishop,  might  come  up  in  time  to  share  the  glory  of  the 
victory ;  so,  ordering  every  one  to  horse,  this  hot-spirited  cava 
lier  pushed  on  for  Moclin,  without  allowing  his  troops  the 
necessary  time  for  repose. 

The  evening  closed,  as  the  count  arrived  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Moclin.  It  was  the  full  of  the  moon,  and  a  bright  and 
cloudless  night.  The  count  was  marching  through  one  of 
those  deep  valleys  or  ravines,  worn  in  the  Spanish  mountains 
by  the  brief  but  tremendous  torrents  which  prevail  during  the 
autumnal  rains.  It  was  walled  on  each  side  by  lofty  and 
almost  perpendicular  cliffs,  but  great  masses  of  moonlight 
were  thrown  into  the  bottom  of  the  glen,  glittering  on  the 
armor  of  the  shining  squadrons,  as  they  silently  passed  through 
it.  Suddenly  the  war-cry  of  the  Moors  rose  in  various  parts 

*  Mariana,  lib.  25,  <;.  17,    Abarca,  Zurita,  <&Q, 


136  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

of  the  valley;  "  El  Zagal!  El  Zagal!"  was  shouted  from  every 
cliff,  accompanied  by  showers  of  missiles,  that  struck  down 
several  of  the  Christian  warriors.  The  count  lifted  up  his  eyes, 
and  beheld,  by  the  light  of  the  moon,  every  cliff  glistening 
with  Moorish  soldiery.  The  deadly  shower  fell  thickly  round 
him,  and  the  shining  armor  of  his  followers  made  them  fair 
objects  for  the  aim  of  the  enemy.  The  count  saw  his  brother 
Gonzalo  struck  dead  by  his  side;  his  own  horse  sunk  under 
him,  pierced  by  four  Moorish  lances ;  and  he  received  a  wound 
in  the  hand  from  an  arquebuss.  He  remembered  the  horrible 
massacre  of  the  mountains  of  Malaga,  and  feared  a  similar 
catastrophe.  There  was  no  time  to  pause.  His  brother's 
horse,  freed  from  his  slaughtered  rider,  was  running  at  large ; 
seizing  the  reins,  he  sprang  into  the  saddle,  called  upon  his 
men  to  follow  him,  and,  wheeling  round,  retreated  out  of  the 
fatal  valley. 

The  Moors,  rushing  down  from  the  heights,  pursued  the  re 
treating  Christians.  The  chase  endured  for  a  league,  but  it 
was  a  league  of  rough  and  broken  road,  where  the  Christians 
had  to  turn  and  fight  at  almost  every  step.  In  these  short  but 
fierce  combats,  the  enemy  lost  many  cavaliers  of  note;  but 
the  loss  of  the  Christians  was  infinitely  more  grievous,  com 
prising  numbers  of  the  noblest  warriors  of  Vaena  and  its 
vicinity.  Many  of  the  Christians,  disabled  by  wounds  or  ex 
hausted  by  fatigue,  turned  aside  and  endeavored  to  conceal 
themselves  among  rocks  and  thickets,  but  never  more  rejoined 
their  companions,  being  slain  or  captured  by  the  Moors,  or 
perishing  in  their  wretched  retreats.  f 

The  arrival  of  the  troops  led  by  the  Master  of  Calatrava  and 
the  bishop  of  Jaen,  put  an  end  to  the  rout.  El  Zagal  contented 
himself  with  the  laurels  he  had  gained,  arid,  ordering  the 
trumpets  to  call  off  his  men  from  the  pursuit,  returned  in 
great  triumph  to  Moclin.* 

Queen  Isabella  was  at  Vaena,  awaiting  with  great  anxiety 
the  result  of  the  expedition.  She  was  in  a  stately  apartment 
of  the  castle,  looking  towards  the  road  that  winds  through  the 
mountains  from  Moclin,  and  regarding  the  watch-towers  that 
crowned  the  neighboring  heights,  in  hopes  of  favorable  signals. 
The  prince  and  princess,  her  children,  were  with  her,  and  her 
venerable  counsellor,  the  grand  cardinal.  All  shared  in  the 
anxiety  of  the  moment.  At  length  couriers  were  seen  riding 

*  Zurita,  lib.  20,  c.  4.    Pulgar,  Cronica. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  137 

towards  the  town.  They  entered  its  gates,  but  before  they 
reached  the  castle,  the  nature  of  their  tidings  was  known  to 
the  queen,  by  the  shrieks  and  wailings  that  rose  from  the 
streets  below.  The  messengers  were  soon  followed  by  wounded 
fugitives,  hastening  home  to  be  relieved,  or  to  die  among  their 
friends  and^  families.  The  whole  town  resounded  with  lamen 
tations  ;  for  it  had  lost  the  flower  of  its  youth,  and  its  bravest 
warriors.  Isabella  was  a  woman  of  courageous  soul,  but  her 
feelings  were  overpowered  by  the  spectacle  of  wo  which  pre 
sented  itself  on  every  side ;  her  maternal  heart  mourned  over 
the  death  of  so  many  loyal  subjects,  who  so  shortly  before  had 
rallied  round  her  with  devoted  affection ;  and,  losing  her  usual 
self-command,  she  sunk  into  deep  despondency. 

In  this  gloomy  state  of  mind,  a  thousand  apprehensions 
crowded  upon  her.  She  dreaded  the  confidence  which  this 
success  would  impart  to  the  Moors ;  she  feared  also  for  the  im 
portant  fortress  of  Alhama,  the  garrison  of  which  had  not  been 
reinforced  since  its  foraging  party  had  been  cut  off  by  this 
same  El  Zagel.  On  every  side  the  queen  saw  danger  and  dis 
aster,  and  feared  that  a  general  reverse  was  about  to  attend 
the  Castilian  arms. 

The  grand  cardinal  comforted  her  with  both  spiritual  and 
worldly  counsel.  He  told  her  to  recollect  that  no  country  was 
ever  conquered  without  occasional  reverses  to  the  conquerors ; 
that  the  Moors  were  a  warlike  people,  fortified  in  a  rough  and 
mountainous  country,  where  they  never  could  be  conquered 
by  her  ancestors,— and  that  in  fact  her  armies  had  already,  in 
three  years,  taken  more  cities  than  those  of  any  of  her  pre 
decessors  had  been  able  to  do  in  twelve.  He  concluded  by 
offering  himself  to  take  the  field,  with  three  thousand  cavalry, 
his  own  retainers,  paid  and  maintained  by  himself,  and  either 
hasten  to  the  relief  of  Alhama,  or  undertake  any  other  ex 
pedition  her  majesty  might  command.  The  discreet  words  of 
the  cardinal  soothed  the  spirit  of  the  queen,  who  always  looked 
to  him  for  consolation;  and  she  soon  recovered  her  usual 
equanimity. 

Some  of  the  counsellors  of  Isabella,  of  that  politic  class  .who 
seek  to  rise  by  the  faults  of  others,  were  loud  in  their  censures 
of  the  rashness  of  the  count.  The  queen  defended  him,  with 
prompt  generosity.  "  The  enterprise,"  said  she,  "was  rash, 
but  not  more  rash  than  that  of  Lucena,  which  was  crowned 
with  success,  and  which  we  have  all  applauded  as  the  height 
of  heroism.  Had  the  count  do  C.ibra  succeeded  in  capturing 


138  TEX  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

the  uncle,  as  he  did  the  nephew,  who  is  there  that  would  not 
h:ive  praised  him  to  the  skies?" 

The  magnanimous  words  of  the  queen  put  a  stop  to  all  in 
vidious  remarks  in  her  presence ;  but  certain  of  the  courtiers, 
vlio  had  envied  the  count  the  glory  gained  by  his  former 
;  -hievemeiits,  continued  to  magnify,  among  themselves,  his 
present  imprudence,  and  we  are  told  by  Fray  Antonio  Agapida, 
that  they  sneeringly  gave  the  worthy  cavalier  the  appellation 
of  count  de  Cabra,  the  king-catcher. 

Ferdinand  had  reached  the  place  on  the  frontier  called  the 
Fountain  of  the  King,  within  three  leagues  of  Moclin,  when  he 
heard  of  the  late  disaster.  He  greatly  lamented  the  precipita 
tion  of  the  counv,  but  forbore  to  express  himself  with  severity, 
for  he  knew  tlnv  value  of  that  loyal  and  valiant  cavalier.*  He 
held  a  council  of  war,  to  determine  what  course  was  to  be  pur 
sued.  Some  of  his  cavaliers  advised  him  to  abandon  the  at 
tempt  upon  Moclin,  the  place  being  strongly  reinforced,  and 
the  enemy  inspirited  by  his  recent  victory.  Certain  old  Span 
ish  hidalgos  reminded  him  that  he  had  but  few  Castilian  troops 
in  his  army,  without  which  staunch  soldiery  his  predecessors 
never  presumed  to  enter  the  Moorish  territory ;  while  others 
remonstrated  that  it  would  be  beneath  the  dignity  of  a  king  to 
retire  from  an  enterprise,  on  account  of  the  defeat  of  a  single 
cavalier  and  his  retainers.  In  this  way  the  king  was  dis 
tracted  by  a  multitude  of  counsellors,  when  fortunately  a  let 
ter  from  the  queen  put  an  end  to  his  perplexities.  Proceed  we, 
in  the  next  chapter,  to  relate  what  was  the  purport  of  that 
letter. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

EXPEDITION  AGAINST  THE   CASTLES  OF  CAMBIL  AND  ALBAHAB. 

"  HAPPY  are  those  princes,"  exclaims  the  worthy  padre  Fray 
Antonio  Agapida,  "who  have  women  and  priests  to  advise 
them,  for  in  these  dwelleth  the  spirit  of  counsel."  While 
Ferdinand  and  his  captains  were  confounding  each  other  in 
their  deliberations  at  the  Fountain  of  the  King,  a  quiet  but 
deep  little  council  of  war  was  held  in  the  state  apartment  of 

*  Abarca,  Anales  de  Aragon. 


THE  CONQUEST  07'  GRANADA.  ICQ 

the  old  castle  of  Vaena,  between  qreen  Isabella,  the  venerable 
Pedro  Gonzalez  do  Mendoza,  grand  cardinal  of  Spain,  and  Don 
Garcia  Osorio,  the  belligerent  bishop  of  Jaen.  This  last  worthy 
prelate,  who  had  exchanged  his  mitre  for  a  helm,  no  sooner 
beheld  the  defeat  of  the  enterprise  against  Moclin,  than  he 
turned  the  reins  of  his  sleek,  stall-  fed  steed,  and  hastened 
back  to  Yaena,  full  of  a  project  for  the  employment  of  the 
army,  the  advancement  of  the  faith,  and  the  benefit  of  his 
own  diocese.  He  knew  that  the  actions  of  the  king  were  in 
fluenced  by  the  opinions  of  the  queen,  and  that  the  queen 
always  inclined  a  listening  ear  to  the  counsels  of  saintly  men  : 
he  laid  his  plans,  therefore,  with  the  customary  wisdom  of  his 
cloth,  to  turn  the  ideas  of  the  queen  into  the  proper  chan 
nel;  and  this  was  the  purport  of  the  worthy  bishop's  sug 
gestions. 

The  bishopric  of  Jaen  had  for  a  long  time  been  harassed  by 
two  Moorish  castles,  the  scourge  and  terror  of  all  that  part  of 
the  country.  They  were  situated  on  the  frontiers  of  the  king 
dom  of  Granada,  about  four  leagues  from  Jaen,  in  a  deep,  nar 
row,  and  rugged  valley,  surrounded  by  lofty  mountains. 
Through  this  valley  runs  the  Rio  Frio,  (or  Cold  river,)  in  a 
deep  channel,  worn  between  high  precipitous  banks.  On  each 
side  of  the  stream  rise  two  vast  rocks,  nearly  perpendicular, 
within  a  stone's-throw  of  each  other ;  blocking  up  the  gorge  of 
the  valle}7.  On  the  summits  of  these  rocks  stood  the  two  for 
midable  castles,  Cambil  and  Albahar,  fortified  with  battle 
ments  and  towers  of  great  height  and  thickness.  They  were 
connected  together  by  a  bridge  thrown  from  rock  to  rock 
across  the  river.  The  road,  which  passed  through  the  valley, 
traversed  this  bridge,  and  was  completely  commanded  by  these 
castles.  They  stood  like  two  giants  of  romance,  guarding  the 
pass,  and  dominating  the  valley. 

The  kings  of  Granada,  knowing  the  importance  of  these  cas 
tles,  kept  them  always  well  garrisoned,  and  victualled  to  stand 
a  siege,  with  fleet  steeds  and  hard  riders,  to  forage  the  country 
of  the  Christians.  The  warlike  race  of  the  Abencerrages,  the 
troops  of  the  royal  household,  and  others  of  the  choicest  chival 
ry  of  Granada,  made  them  their  strong-holds,  or  posts  of  arms, 
from  whence  to  sally  forth  on  those  predatory  and  roving  en 
terprises  which  were  the  delight  of  the  Moorish  cavaliers.  As 
the  wealthy  bishopric  of  Jaen  lay  immediately  at  hand,  it  suf 
fered  more  peculiarly  from  these  marauders.  They  drove  off  the 
fat  beeves  and  the  flocks  of  sheep  from  the  pastures,  and  swept 


140         THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

the  laborers  from  the  field ;  they  scoured  the  country  to  the 
very  gates  of  Jaen,  so  that  the  citizens  could  not  venture  from 
their  walls,  without  the  risk  of  being  borne  off.  captive  to  the 
dungeons  of  these  castles. 

The  worthy  bishop,  like  a  good  pastor,  beheld  with  grief  of 
heart  his  fat .  bishopric  daily  waxing  leaner  and  leaner,  and 
poorer  and  poorer ;  and  his  holy  ire  was  kindled  at  the  thoughts 
that  the  possessions  of  the  church  should  thus  be  at  the  mercy 
of  a  crew  of  infidels.  It  was  the  urgent  counsel  of  the  bishop, 
therefore,  that  the  military  force,  thus  providentially  assem 
bled  in  the  neighborhood,  since  it  was  apparently  foiled  in  its 
attempt  upon  Moclin,  should  be  turned  against  these  insolent 
castles,  and  the  country  delivered  from  their  domination.  The 
grand  cardinal  supported  the  suggestion  of  the  bishop,  and  de 
clared  that  he  had  long  meditated  the  policy  of  a  measure  of 
the  kind.  Their  united  opinions  found"  favor  with  the  queen, 
and  she  dispatched  a  letter  on  the  subject  to  the  king.  It 
came  just  in  time  to  relieve  him  from  the  distraction  of  a 
multitude  of  counsellors,  and  he  immediately  undertook  the 
reduction  of  those  castles. 

The  marques  of  Cadiz  was  accordingly  sent  in  advance, 
with  two  thousand  horse,  to  keep  a  watch  upon  the  garri 
sons,  and  prevent  all  entrance  or  exit,  until  the  king  should 
arrive  with  the  main  army  and  the  battering  artillery.  The 
queen,  to  be  near  at  hand  in  case  of  need,  moved  her  quar 
ters  to  the  city  of  Jaen,  where  she  was  received  with  mar 
tial  honors  by  the  belligerent  bishop,  who  had  buckled  on  his 
cuirass  and  girded  on  his  sword,  to  fight  in  the  cause  of  his 
diocese. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  marques  of  Cadiz  arrived  in  the  val 
ley,  and  completely  shut  up  the  Moors  within  their  walls. 
The  castles  were  under  *he  command  of  Mahomet  Lentin  Ben 
Usef,  an  Abencerrage,  and  one  of  the  bravest  cavaliers  of 
Granada.  In  his  garrisons  were  many  troops  of  the  fierce 
African  tribe  of  Gomeres.  Mahomet  Lentin,  confident  in  the 
strength  of  his  fortresses,  smiled  as  he  looked  down  from  his 
battlements  upon  the  Christian  cavalry,  perplexed  in  the 
rough  and  narrow  valley.  He  sent  forth  skirmishing  parties 
to  harass  them,  and  there  were  many  sharp  combats  between 
small  parties  and  single  knights;  but  the  Moors  were  driven 
back  to  their  castles,  and  all  attempts  to  send  intelligence  of 
their  situation  to  Granada,  were  frustrated  by  the  vigilance 
of  the  marques  of  Cadiz. 


TILE  COXqUEST  OF  GRANADA.  14 j 

At  length  the  legions  of  the  royal  army  came  pouring,  with 
vaunting  trumpet  and  fluttering  banner,  along  the  defiles  of 
the  mountains.  They  halted  before  the  castles,  but  the  king 
could  not  find  room  in  the  narrow  and  rugged  valley  to  form 
his  camp:  he  had  to  divide  it  into  three  parts,  which  were 
posted  on  different  heights ;  and  his  tents  whitened  the  sides  of 
the  neighboring  hills.  When  the  encampment  was  formed,  the 
army  remained  gazing  idly  at  the  castles.  The  artillery  was 
upwards  of  four  leagues  in  the  rear,  and  without  artillery  all 
attack  would  be  in  vain. 

The  alcayde  Mahomet  Lentin  knew  the  nature  of  the  road  by 
which  the  artillery  had  to  be  brought.  It  was  merely  a  nar 
row  and  rugged  path,  at  times  scaling  almost  perpendicular 
crags  and  precipices,  up  which  it  was  utterly  impossible  for 
wheel  carriages  to  pass ;  neither  was  it  in  the  power  of  man  or 
beast  to  draw  up  the  lombards,  and  other  ponderous  ordnance. 
He  felt  assured,  therefore,  that  they  never  could  be  brought  to 
the  camp ;  and,  without  their  aid,  what  could  the  Christians 
effect  against  his  rock-built  castles?  He  scoffed  at  them,  there 
fore,  as  he  saw  their  tents  by  day  and  their  fires  by  night  cov 
ering  the  surrounding  heights.  "  Let  them  linger  here  a  little 
while  longer,"  said  he,  "  and  the  autumnal  torrents  will  wash 
them  from  the  mountains." 

While  the  alcayde  was  thus  closely  mewed  up  within  his 
walls,  ann  the  Christians  remained  inactive  in  their  camp,  he 
noticed,  one  calm  autumnal  day,  the  sound  of  implements  of 
labor  echoing  among  the  mountains,  and  now  and  then  the 
crash  of  a,  falling  tree,  or  a  thundering  report,  as  if  some  rock 
had  been  heaved  from  its  bed  and  hurled  into  the  vaUey.  The 
alcayde  was  on  the  battlements  of  his  castle,  surrounded  by  his 
knights.  "Methinks,"  said  he,  "these  Christians  are  making 
war  upon  the  rocks  and  trees  of  the  mountains,  since  they  find 
our  castles  unassailable." 

The  sounds  did  not  cease  even  during  the  night :  every  now 
and  then,  the  Moorish  sentinel,  as  he  paced  the  battlements, 
heard  some  crash  echoing  among  the  heights.  The  return  of 
day  explained  the  mystery.  Scarcely  did  the  sun  shine  against 
the  summits  of  the  mountains,  than  shouts  burst  from  the  cliffs 
opposite  to  the  castles,  and  were  answered  from  the  camp,  with 
joyful  sound  of  kettle-drums  and  trumpets. 

The  astonished  Moors  lifted  up  their  eyes,  and  beheld,  as  it 
were,  a  torrent  of  war  breaking  out  of  a  narrow  defile.  There 
was  a  multitude  of  men,  with  pickaxes,  spades,  and  bars  of 


142  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

iron,  clearing  away  every  obstacle;  while  behind  them  slowly 
moved  along  great  teams  of  oxen,  dragging  heavy  ordnance, 
and  all  the  munitions  of  battering  artillery. 

"What  cannot  women  and  priests  effect,  when  they  unite 
in  council?"  exclaims  again  the  worthy  Antonio  Agapida.  Tho 
queen  had  held  another  consultation  with  the  grand  cardinal 
and  the  belligerent  bishop  of  Jaen.  It  was  clear  that  tlio 
heavy  ordnance  could  never  be  conveyed  to  the  camp  by  the 
regular  road  of  the  country ;  and  without  battering  artillery, 
nothing  could  be  effected.  It  was  suggested,  however,  by  the 
zealous  bishop,  that  another  road  might  be  opened,  through  a 
more  practicable  part  of  the  mountains.  It  would  be  an  un 
dertaking  extravagant  and  chimerical,  with  ordinary  means ; 
and,  therefore,  unlocked  for  by  the  enemy;  but  what  could 
not  kings  effect,  who  had  treasures  and  armies  at  command? 

The  project  struck  the  enterprising  spirit  of  the  queen.  Six 
thousand  men,  with  pickaxes,  crowbars,  and  every  other  nec 
essary  implement,  were  set  to  work  day  and  night,  to  break 
a  road  through  the  very  centre  of  the  mountains.  No  time 
was  to  be  lost,  for  it  was  rumored  that  El  Zagal  was  about  to 
march  with  a  mighty  host  to  the  relief  of  the  castles.  The 
bustling  bishop  of  Jaen  acted  as  pioneer,  to  mark  the  route 
and  superintend  the  laborers;  and  the  grand  cardinal  took 
care  that  the  work  should  never  languish  through  lack  of 
means.* 

"When  kings'  treasures,"  says  Fray  Antonio  Agapida,  "are 
dispensed  by  priestly  hands,  there  is  no  stint,  as  the  glorious 
annals  of  Spain  bear  witness. "  Under  the  guidance  of  these 
ghostly  men,  it  seemed  as  if  miracles  were  effected.  Almost 
an  entire  mountain  was  levelled,  valleys  filled  up,  trees  hewn 
down,  rocks  broken  and  overturned ;  in  short,  all  the  obstacles 
which  nature  had  heaped  around,  entirely  and  promptly  van 
ished.  In  little  more  than  twelve  days,  this  gigantic  work 
was  effected,  and  the  ordnance  dragged  to  the  camp,  to  the 
great  triumph  of  the  Christians  and  confusion  of  the  Moors,  t 

No  sooner  was  the  heavy  artillery  arrived,  than  it  was 
mounted,  in  all  haste,  upon  the  neighboring  heights;  Fran 
cisco  Ramirez  de  Madrid,  the  first  engineer  in  Spain,  superin 
tended  the  batteries,  and  soon  opened  a  destructive  fire  upon 
the  castles. 

When   the  valiant    alcayde,   Mahomet    Lentin,   found   his 

*  Zurita,  Anales  de  Aragon,  lib.  20,  c.  61.    Pulgar,  part  3,  cap.  51.        t  Idem. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  143 

towers  tumbling  about  him,  and  ids  bravest  men  dashed  from 
the  walls,  without  the  power  of  inflicting  a  wound  upon  the 
foe,  his  haughty  spirit  was  greatly  exasperated.  ' '  Of  what 
avail,"  said  he,  bitterly,  "is  all  the  prowess  of  knighthood 
against  these  cowardly  engines,  that  murder  from  afar?" 

For  a  whole  day,  a  tremendous  fire  kept  thundering  upon 
the  castle  of  Albahar.  The  lombards  discharged  large  stones, 
which  demolished  two  of  the  towers,  and  all  the  battlements 
which  guarded  the  portal.  If  any  Moors  attempted  to  defend 
the  walls  or  repair  the  breaches,  they  were  shot  down  by 
ribadoquines,  and  other  small  pieces  of  artillery.  The  Chris 
tian  soldiery  issued  forth  from  the  camp,  under  cover  of  this 
fire ;  and,  approaching  the  castles,  discharged  flights  of  arrows 
and  stones  through  the  openings  made  by  the  ordnance. 

At  length,  to  bring  the  siege  to  a  conclusion,  Francisco 
Ramirez  elevated  some  of  the  heaviest  artillery  on  a  mount 
that  rose  in  form  of  a  cone  or  pyramid,  on  the  side  of  the 
river  near  to  Albahar,  and  commanded  both  castles.  This 
was  an  operation  of  great  skill  and  excessive  labor,  but  it  was 
repaid  by  complete  success ;  for  the  Moors  did  not  dare  to  wait 
until  this  terrible  battery  should  discharge  its  fury.  Satisfied 
that  all  further  resistance  was  vain,  the  valiant  alcayde  made 
signal  for  a  parley.  The  articles  of  capitulation  were  soon 
arranged.  The  alcayde  and  his  garrisons  were  permitted  to 
return  in  safety  to  the  city  of  Granada,  and  the  castles  were 
delivered  into  the  possession  of  king  Ferdinand,  on  the  day  of 
the  festival  of  St.  Matthew,  in  the  month  of  September.  They 
were  immediately  repaired,  strongly  garrisoned,  and  delivered 
in  charge  to  the  city  of  Jaen. 

The  effects  of  this  triumph  were  immediately  apparent. 
Quiet  and  security  once  more  settled  upon  the  bishopric.  The 
husbandmen  tilled  their  fields  in  peace,  the  herds  and  flocks 
fattened  unmolested  in  the  pastures,  and  the  vineyards  yielded 
corpulent  skinsful  of  rosy  wine.  The  good  bishop  enjoyed,  in 
the  gratitude  of  his  people,  the  approbation  of  his  conscience, 
the  increase  of  his  revenues,  and  the  abundance  of  his  table,  a 
reward  for  all  his  toils  and  perils.  "This  glorious  victory," 
exclaims  Fray  Antonio  Agapida,  ' '  achieved  by  such  extraor 
dinary  management  and  infinite  labor,  is  a  shining  example  of 
what  a  bishop  can  effect,  for  the  promotion  of  the  faith  and 
the  good  of  his  diocese." 


144  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 


CHAPTEE  XXXIV. 

ENTERPRISE  OF    THE  KNIGHTS  OF  CALATRAVA  AGAINST  ZALEA, 

WHILE  these  events  were  taking  place  on  the  northern  fron 
tier  of  the  kingdom  of  Granada,  the  important  fortress  of 
Alhama  was  neglected,  and  its  commander,  Don  Gutiere  de 
Padilla,  clavero  of  Calatrava,  reduced  to  great  perplexity. 
The  remnant  of  the  foraging  party,  which  had  been  surprised 
and  massacred  by  the  fierce  El  Zagal  when  on  his  way  to 
Granada  to  receive  the  crown,  had  returned  in  confusion  and 
dismay  to  the  fortress.  They  could  only  speak  of  their  own 
disgrace,  being  obliged  to  abandon  their  cavalgada,  and  to  fly, 
pursued  by  a  superior  force :  of  the  flower  of  their  party,  the 
gallant  knights  of  Calatrava,  who  had  remained  behind  in  the 
valley,  they  knew  nothing.  A  few  days  cleared  up  all  the 
mystery  of  their  fate :  tidings  were  brought  that  their  bloody 
heads  had  been  borne  in  triumph  into  Granada  by  the  fero 
cious  El  Zagal.  The  surviving  knights  of  Calatrava,  who 
formed  a  part  of  the  garrison,  burned  to  revenge  the  death  of 
their  comrades,  and  to  wipe  out  the  stigma  of  this  defeat ;  but 
the  clavero  had  been  rendered  cautious  by  disaster, — he  re 
sisted  all  their  entreaties  for  a  foray.  His  garrison  was  weak 
ened  by  the  loss  of  so  many  of  its  bravest  men ;  the  vega  was 
patrolled  by  numerous  and  powerful  squadrons,  sent  forth  by 
the  warlike  El  Zagal ;  above  all,  the  movements  of  the  garrison 
were  watched  by  the  warriors  of  Zalea,  a  strong  town,  only 
two  leagues  distant,  on  the  road  towards  Loxa.  This  place 
was  a  continual  check  upon  Alhama  when  in  its  most  powerful 
state,  placing  ambuscades  to  entrap  the  Christian  cavaliers  in 
the  course  of  their  sallies.  Frequent  and  bloody  skirmishes 
had  taken  place,  in  consequence ;  and  the  troops  of  Alhama, 
when  returning  from  their  forays,  had  often  to  fight  their  way 
back  through  the  squadrons  of  Zalea.  Thus  surrounded  by 
dangers,  Don  Gutiere  de  Padilla  restrained  the  eagerness  of  his 
troops  for  a  sally,  knowing  that  any  additional  disaster  might 
be  followed  by  the  loss  of  Alhama. 

In  the  meanwhile,  provisions  began  to  grow  scarce;  they 
were  unable  to  forage  the  country  as  usual  for  supplies,  and 
depended  for  relief  upon  the  Castilian  sovereigns.  The  defeat 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  145 

of  the  count  de  Cabra  filled  the  measure  of  their  perplexities, 
as  it  interrupted  the  intended  reinforcements  and  supplies.  To 
such  extremity  were  they  reduced,  that  they  we^e  compelled 
to  kill  some  of  their  horses  for  provisions. 

The  worthy  clavero,  Don  Gutiere  de  Padilla,  was  pondering 
one  day  on  this  gloomy  state  of  affairs,  when  a  Moor  was 
brought  before  him  who  had  surrendered  himself  at  the  gate 
of  Alhama,  and  claimed  an  audience.  Don  Gutiere  was  ac 
customed  to  visits  of  the  kind  from  renegade  Moors,  who 
roamed  the  country  as  spies  and  adalides;  but  the  counte 
nance  of  this  man  was  quite  unknown  to  him.  He  had  a  box 
strapped  to  his  shoulders,  containing  divers  articles  of  traffic, 
and  appeared  to  be  one  of  those  itinerant  traders,  who  often 
resorted  to  Alhama  and  the  other  garrison  towns,  under  pre 
text  of  vending  trivial  merchandise,  such  as  amulets,  perfumes, 
and  trinkets,  but  who  often  produced  rich  shawls,  golden 
chains  and  necklaces,  and  valuable  gems  and  jewels. 

The  Moor  requested  a  private  conference  with  the  clavero : 
"  I  have  a  precious  jewel,"  said  he,  "to  dispose  of." 

"  I  want  no  jewels,"  replied  Don  Gutiere. 

"For  the  sake  of  him  who  died  on  the  cross,  the  great 
prophet  of  your  faith,"  said  the  Moor,  solemnly,  "refuse  not 
my  request ;  the  jewel  I  speak  of  you  alone  can  purchase,  but 
I  can  only  treat  about  it  in  secret." 

Don  Gutiere  perceived  there  was  something  hidden  under 
these  mystic  and  figurative  terms,  in  which  the  Moors  were 
often  accustomed  to  talk.  He  motioned  to  his  attendants  to 
retire.  When  they  were  alone,  the  Moor  looked  cautiously 
round  the  apartment,  and  then,  approaching  close  to  the 
knight,  demanded  in  a  low  voice,  ' '  What  will  you  give  me  if 
I  deliver  the  fortress  of  Zalea  into  your  hands?" 

Don  Gutiere  looked  with  surprise  at  the  humble  individual 
that  made  such  a  suggestion. 

"  What  means  have  you,"  said  he,  "  of  effecting  such  a  pro 
position?" 

"  I  have  a  brother  in  the  garrison  of  Zalea,"  replied  the 
Moor,  "who,  for  a  proper  compensation,  would  admit  a  body 
of  troops  into  the  citadel." 

Don  Gutiere  turned  a  scrutinizing  eye  upon  the  Moor. 
"  What  right  have  I  to  believe,"  said  he,  "that  thou  wilt  be 
truer  to  me,  than  to  those  of  thy  blood  and  thy  religion?" 

"I  renounce  all  ties  to  them,  either  of  blood  or  religion," 
replied  the  Moor;  "my  mother  was  a  Christian  captive;  her 


146  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

country  shall  henceforth  be  my  country,  and  her  faith  my 
faith."* 

The  doubts  of  Don  Gutiere  were  not  dispelled  by  this  profes 
sion  of  mongrel  Christianity.  u  Granting  the  sincerity  of  thy 
conversion,"  said  he,  "art  thou  under  no  obligations  of  grati 
tude  or  duty  to  the  alcayde  of  the  fortress  thou  wouldst  be 
tray?" 

The  eyes  of  the  Moor  flashed  fire  at  the  words ;  he  gnashed 
his  teeth  with  fury.  "  The  alcayde,"  cried  he,  "  is  a  dog!  He 
has  deprived  my  brother  of  his  just  share  of  booty ;  he  has 
robbed  me  of  my  merchandise,  treated  me  worse  than  a  Jew 
when  I  murmured  at  his  injustice,  and  ordered  me  to  be  thrust 
forth  ignominiously  from  his  walls.  May  the  curse  of  God  fall 
upon  my  head,  if  I  rest  content  until  I  have  full  revenge !" 

"  Enough,"  said  Don  Gutiere:  "  I  trust  more  to  thy  revenge 
than  thy  religion." 

The  good  clavero  called  a  council  of  his  officers.  The 
knights  of  Calatrava  were  unanimous  for  the  enterprise— zeal 
ous  to  appease  the  manes  of  their  slaughtered  comrades.  Don 
Gutiere  reminded  them  of  the  state  of  the  garrison,  enfeebled 
by  their  late  loss,  and  scarcely  sufficient  for  the  defence  of  the 
walls.  The  cavaliers  replied  that  there  was  no  achievement 
without  risk,  and  that  there  would  have  been  no  great  actions 
recorded  in  history,  had  there  not  been  daring  spirits  ready  to 
peril  life  to  gain  renown. 

Don  Gutiere  yielded  to  the  wishes  of  his  knights,  for  to  have 
resisted  any  further  might  have  drawn  on  him  the  imputation 
of  timidity :  he  ascertained  by  trusty  spies  that  every  thing  in 
Zalea  remained  in  the  usual  state,  and  he  made  all  the  requisite 
arrangements  for  the  attack. 

When  the  appointed  night  arrived,  all  the  cavaliers  were 
anxious  to  engage  in  the  enterprise ;  but  the  individuals  were 
decided  by  lot.  They  set  out,  under  the  guidance  of  the  Moor ; 
and  when  they  arrived  in  the  vicinity  of  Zalea,  they  bound  his 
hands  behind  his  back,  and  their  leader  pledged  his  knightly 
word  to  strike  him  dead  on  the  first  sign  of  treachery.  He 
then  bade  him  to  lead  the  way. 

It  was  near  midnight,  when  they  reached  the  walls  of  the 
fortress.  They  passed  silently  along  until  they  found  them 
selves  below  the  citadel.  Here  their  guide  made  a  low  and 
preconcerted  signal :  it  was  answered  from  above,  and  a  cord 

*  Cura  de  los  Palacios. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  147 

let  down  from  the  wall.  The  knights  attached  to  it  a  ladder, 
which  was  drawn  up  and  fastened.  Gutiere  Munoz  was  the 
first  that  mounted,  followed  by  Pedro  de  Alvanado,  both  brave 
and  hardy  soldiers.  A  handful  succeeded ;  they  were  attacked 
by  a  party  of  guards,  but  held  them  at  bay  until  more  of  their 
comrades  ascended ;  with  their  assistance,  they  gained  posses 
sion  of  a  tower  and  part  of  the  wall.  The  garrison,  by  this 
time,  was  aroused ;  but  before  they  could  reach  the  scene  of 
action,  most  of  the  cavaliers  were  within  the  battlements.  A 
bloody  contest  raged  for  about  an  hour — several  of  the  Chris 
tians  were  slain,  but  many  of  the  Moors ;  at  length  the  whole 
citadel  was  carried,  and  the  town  submitted  without  resist 
ance. 

Thus  did  the  gallant  knights  of  Calatrava  gain  the  strong 
town  of  Zalea  with  scarcely  any  loss,  and  atone  for  the  inglori 
ous  defeat  of  their  companions  by  El  Zagal.  They  found  the 
magazines  of  the  place  well  stored  with  provisions,  and  were 
enabled  to  carry  a  seasonable  supply  to  their  own  famishing 
garrison. 

The  tidings  of  this  event  reached  the  sovereigns,  just  after 
the  surrender  of  Cambil  and  Albahar.  They  were  greatly  re 
joiced  at  this  additional  success  of  their  arms,  and  immediately 
sent  strong  reinforcements  and  ample  supplies  for  both  Alha 
ma  and  Zalea.  They  then  dismissed  the  army  for  the  winter. 
Ferdinand  and  Isabella  retired  to  Alcala  de  Henares,  where 
the  queen,  on  the  16th  of  December,  1485,  gave  birth  to  the 
princess  Catharine,  afterwards  wife  of  Henry  VIII.  of  Eng 
land.  Thus  prosperously  terminated  the  checkered  campaign 
of  this  important  year. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

DEATH  OF  MULEY  ABEN  HASSAN. 

MULEY  ABDALLAH  EL  ZAGAL  had  been  received  with  great 
acclamations  at  Granada,  on  his  return  from  defeating  the 
count  de  Cabra.  He  had  endeavored  to  turn  his  victory  to  the 
greatest  advantage,  with  his  subjects;  giving  tilts  and  tour 
naments,  and  other  public  festivities,  in  which  the  Moors  de 
lighted.  The  loss  of  the  castles  of  Cambil  and  Albahar,  and 
of  the  fortress  of  Zalea,  however,  checked  this  sudden  tide  of 


148  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GEANADA. 

popularity;  and  some  of  the  fickle  populace  began  to  doubt 
whether  they  had  not  been  rather  precipitate  in  deposing  his 
brother,  Muley  Aben  Hassan. 

That  superannuated  monarch  remained  in  his  faithful  town 
of  Almunecar,  on  the  border  of  the  Mediterranean,  surrounded 
by  a  few  adherents,  together  with  his  wife  Zorayna  and  his 
children ;  and  he  had  all  his  treasures  safe  in  his  possession. 
The  fiery  heart  of  the  old  king  was  almost  burnt  out,  and  all 
his  powers  of  doing  either  harm  or  good  seemed  at  an  end. 

While  in  this  passive  and  helpless  state,  his  brother  El  Zagal 
manifested  a  sudden  anxiety  for  his  health.  He  had  him  re 
moved,  with  all  tenderness  and  care,  to  Salobreila,  another 
fortress  on  the  Mediterranean  coast,  famous  for  its  pure  and 
salubrious  air ;  and  the  alcay de,  who  was  a  devoted  adherent 
of  El  Zagal,  was  charged  to  have  especial  care  that  nothing 
was  wanting  to  the  comfort  and  solace  of  his  brother. 

Salobreila  was  a  smalltown,  situated  on  a  lofty  and  rocky 
hill,  in  the  midst  of  a  beautiful  and  fertile  vega,  shut  up  on 
three  sides  by  mountains,  and  opening  on  the  fourth  to  the 
Mediterranean.  It  was  protected  by  strong  walls  and  a  power 
ful  castle,  and,  being  deemed  impregnable,  was  often  used  by 
the  Moorish  kings  as  a  place  of  deposit  for  their  treasures. 
They  were  accustomed  also  to  assign  it  as  a  residence  for  such 
of  their  sons  and  brothers  as  might  endanger  the  security  of 
their  reign.  Here  the  princes  lived,  in  luxurious  repose :  they 
had  delicious  gardens,  perfumed  baths,  a  harem  of  beauties  at 
their  command— nothing  was  denied  them  but  the  liberty  to 
depart ;  that  alone  was  wanting  to  render  this  abode  an  earthly 
paradise. 

Such  was  the  delightful  place  appointed  by  El  Zagal  for  the 
residence  of  his  brother;  but,  notwithstanding  its  wonderful 
salubrity,  the  old  monarch  had  not  been  removed  thither 
many  days  before  he  expired.  There  was  nothing  extraordi 
nary  in  his  death :  life  with  him  had  long  been  glimmering  in 
the  socket,  and  for  some  time  past  he  might  rather  have  been 
numbered  with  the  dead  than  with  the  living.  The  public, 
however,  are  fond  of  seeing  things  in  a  sinister  and  mysterious 
point  of  view,  and  there  were  many  dark  surmises  as  to  the 
cause  of  this  event.  El  Zagal  acted  in  a  manner  to  heighten 
these  suspicions:  he  caused  the  treasures  of  his  deceased 
brother  to  be  packed  on  mules  and  brought  to  Granada,  where 
he  took  possession  of  them,  to  the  exclusion  of  the  children  of 
Aben  Hassan.  The  sultana  Zorayna  and  her  two  sons  were 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  149 

lodged  in  the  Alhambra,  in  the  tower  of  Cimares.  This  was 
a  residence  in  a  palace— but  it  had  proved  a  royal  prison  to  the 
sultana  Ayxa  la  Horra,  and  her  youthful  son  Boabdil.  There 
the  unhappy  Zorayna  had  time  to  meditate  upon  the  dis 
appointment  of  all  those  ambitious  schemes  for  herself  and 
children,  for  which  she  had  stained  her  conscience  with  so 
many  crimes,  and  induced  her  cruel  husband  to  imbrue  his 
hands  in  the  blood  of  his  other  offspring. 

The  corpse  of  old  Muley  Aben  Hassan  was  also  brought  to 
Granada,  not  in  a  state  becoming  the  remains  of  a  once  power 
ful  sovereign,  but  transported  on  a  mule,  like  the  corpse  of  the 
poorest  peasant.  It  received  no  honor  or  ceremonial  from  El 
Zagal,  and  appears  to  have  been  interred  obscurely,  to  prevent 
any  popular  sensation;  and  it  is  recorded  by  an  ancient  and 
faithful  chronicler  of  the  time,  that  the  body  of  the  old  mon 
arch  was  deposited  by  two  Christian  captives  in  his  osario,  or 
charnel-house.*  Such  was  the  end  of  the  turbulent  Mulcy 
Aben  Hassan,  who,  after  passing  his  life  in  constant  contests 
for  empire,  could  scarce  gain  quiet  admission  into  the  corner 
of  a  sepulchre. 

No  sooner  were  the  populace  well  assured  that  old  Muley 
Aben  Hassan  was  dead,  and  beyond  recovery,  than  they  all 
began  to  extol  his  memory  and  deplore  his  loss.  They  ad 
mitted  that  he  had  been  fierce  and  cruel,  but  then  he  had 
been  brave;  he  had,  to  be  sure,  pulled  this  war  upon  their 
heads,  but  he  had  likewise  been  crushed  by  it.  In  a  word,  he 
was  dead;  and  his  death  atoned  for  every  fault;  for  a  king, 
recently  dead,  is  generally  either  a  hero  or  a  saint. 

In  proportion  as  they  ceased,  to  hate  old  Muley  Aben  Hassan, 
they  began  to  hate  his  brother  El  Zagal.  The  circumstances 
of  the  old  king's  death,  the  eagerness  to  appropriate  his  trea 
sures,  the  scandalous  neglect  of  his  corpse,  and  the  imprison 
ment  of  his  sultana  and  children,  all  filled  the  public  mind 
with  gloomy  suspicions;  and  the  epithet  of  Fratracide!  was 
sometimes  substituted  for  that  of  El  Zagal,  in  the  low  mur- 
murings  of  the  people. 

As  the  public  must  always  have  some  object  to  like  as  well 
as  to  hate,  there  began  once  more  to  be  an  inquiry  after  their 
fugitive  king,  Boabdil  el  Chico.  That  unfortunate  monarch 
was  still  at  Cordova,  existing  on  the  cool  courtesy  and  meagre 
friendship  of  Ferdinand ;  which  had  waned  exceedingly,  ever 

*  Cura  de  los  Palacios,  c.  77. 


150        THE  CONQUEST  OF  GHANADA. 

since  Boabdil  had  ceased  to  have  any  influence  in  his  late 
dominions.  The  reviving  interest  expressed  in  his  fate  by  the 
Moorish  public,  and  certain  secret  overtures  made  to  him,  once 
more  aroused  the  sympathy  of  Ferdinand:  he  immediately 
advised  Boabdil  again  to  set  up  his  standard  within  the  fron 
tiers  of  Granada,  and  furnished  him  with  money  and  means 
for  the  purpose.  Boabdil  advanced  but  a  little  way  into  his 
late  territories;  he  took  up  his  post  at  Velez  el  Blanco,  a 
strong  town  on  the  confines  of  Murcia;  there  he  established 
the  shadow  of  a  court,  and  stood,  as  it  were,  with  one  foot 
over  the  border,  and  ready  to  draw  that  back  upon  the  least 
alarm.  His  presence  in  the  kingdom,  however,  and  his  as 
sumption  of  royal  state,  gave  life  to  his  faction  in  Granada. 
The  inhabitants  of  the  Albaycin,  the  poorest  but  most  warlike 
part  of  the  populace,  were  generally  in  his  favor:  the  more 
rich,  courtly,  and  aristocratical  inhabitants  of  the  quarter  of 
the  Alhambra,  rallied  round  what  appeared  to  be  the  most 
stable  authority,  and  supported  the  throne  of  El  Zagal.  So  it 
is,  in  the  admirable  order  of  sublunary  affairs:  every  thing 
seeks  its  kind ;  the  rich  befriend  the  rich,  the  powerful  stand 
by  the  powerful,  the  poor  enjoy  the  patronage  of  the  poor— 
and  thus  a  universal  harmony  prevails. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

OF    THE    CHRISTIAN    ARMY   WHICH   ASSEMBLED   AT    THE    CITY  OF 

CORDOVA. 

GREAT  and  glorious  was  the  style  with  which  the  Catholic 
sovereigns  opened  another  year's  campaign  of  this  eventful 
war.  It  was  like  commencing  another  act  of  a  stately  and 
heroic  drama,  where  the  curfcain  rises  to  the  inspiring  sound 
of  martial  melody,  and  the  whole  stage  glitters  with  the  array 
of  warriors  and  the  pomp  of  arms.  The  ancient  city  of  Cor 
dova  was  the  place  appointed  by  the  sovereigns  for  the  assem 
blage  of  the  troops;  and  early  in  the  spring  of  1486,  the  fair 
valley  of  the  Guadalquivir  resounded  with  the  shrill  blast  of 
trumpet,  and  the  impatient  neighing  of  the  war-horse.  In  this 
splendid  era  of  Spanish  chivalry,  there  was  a  rivalship  among 
the  nobles  who  most  should  distinguish  himself  by  the  splen- 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  OR  AN  AD  A.  ]5l 

dor  of  his  appearance,  and  the  number  and  equipments  of  his 
feudal  followers.  Every  day  beheld  some  cavalier  of  note,  the 
representative  of  some  proud  and  powerful  house,  entering 
the  gates  of  Cordova  with  sound  of  trumpet,  and  displaying 
his  banner  and  device,  renowned  in  many  a  contest.  He 
would  appear  in  sumptuous  array,  surrounded  by  pages  and 
lackeys  no  less  gorgeously  attired,  and  followed  by  a  host  of 
vassals  and  retainers,  horse  and  foot,  all  admirably  equipped 
in  burnished  armor. 

Such  was  the  state  of  Don  Inigo  Lopez  de  Mendoza,  duke  of 
Inf antado ;  who  may  be  cited  as  a  picture  of  a  warlike  noble  of 
those  times.  He  brought  with  him  five  hundred  men-at-arms 
of  his  household,  armed  and  mounted  a  la  gineta  and  a  la 
guisa.  The  cavaliers  who  attended  him  were  magnificently 
armed  and  dressed.  The  housings  of  fifty  of  his  horses  were 
of  rich  cloth,  embroidered  with  gold ;  and  others  were  of  bro 
cade.  The  sumpter  mules  had  housings  of  the  same,  with  hal 
ters  of  silk ;  while  the  bridles,  head-pieces,  and  all  the  harness 
ing  glittered  with  silver. 

The  camp  equipage  of  these  noble  and  luxurious  warriors  was 
equally  magnificent.  Their  tents  were  gay  pavilions,  of  vari 
ous  colors,  fitted  up  with  silken  hangings  and  decorated  with 
fluttering  pennons.  They  had  vessels  of  gold  and  silver  for  the 
service  of  their  tables,  as  if  they  were  about  to  engage  in  a 
course  of  stately  feasts  and  courtly  revels,  instead  of  the  stern 
encounters  of  rugged  and  mountainous  warfare.  Sometimes 
they  passed  through  the  streets  of  Cordova  at  night,  in  splen 
did  cavalcade,  with  great  numbers  of  lighted  torches,  the  rays 
of  which  falling  upon  polished  armor  and  nodding  plumes,  and 
silken  scarfs,  and  trappings  of  golden  embroidery,  filled  all 
beholders  with  admiration.* 

But  it  was  not  the  chivalry  of  Spain  alone  which  thronged 
the  streets  of  Cordova.  The  fame  of  this  war  had  spread 
throughout  Christendom :  it  was  considered  a  kind  of  crusade ; 
and  Catholic  knights  from  all  parts  hastened  to  signalize  them 
selves  in  so  holy  a  cause.  There  were  several  valiant  cheva 
liers  from  France,  among  whom  the  most  distinguished  was 
Gaston  du  Leon,  Seneschal  of  Toulouse.  With  him  came  a 
gallant  train,  well  armed  and  mounted,  and  decorated  with 
rich  surtouts  and  panaches  of  feathers.  These  cavaliers,  it  is 
said,  eclipsed  all  others  in  the  light  festivities  of  the  court: 

*  Pulgar,  parts,  cap.  41,  56. 


152  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

they  were  devoted  to  the  fair,  hut  not  after  the  solemn  and 
passionate  manner  of  the  Spanish  lovers ;  they  were  gay,  gal 
lant,  and  joyous  in  their  amours,  and  captivated  hy  the  vivacity 
of  their  attacks.  They  were  at  first  held  in  light  estimation  by 
the  grave  and  stately  Spanish  knights,  until  they  made  them 
selves  to  be  respected  by  their  wonderful  prowess  in  the  field. 

The  most  conspicuous  of  the  volunteers,  however,  who  ap 
peared  in  Cordova  on  this  occasion,  was  an  English  knight 
of  royal  connection.  This  was  the  lord  Scales,  earl  of  Rivers, 
brother  to  the  queen  of  England,  wife  of  Henry  VII.  He  had 
distinguished  himself  in  the  preceding  year,  at  the  battle  of 
Bosworth  field,  where  Henry  Tudor,  then  earl  of  Richmond, 
overcame  Richard  III.  That  decisive  battle  having  left  the 
country  at  peace,  the  earl  of  Rivers,  having  conceived  a  pas 
sion  for  warlike  scenes,  repaired  to  the  Castilian  court,  to  keep 
his  arms  in  exercise,  in  a  campaign  against  the  Moors.  He 
brought  with  him  a  hundred  archers,  all  dexterous  with  the 
long-bow  and  the  cloth-yard  arrow ;  also  two  hundred  yeoman, 
armed  cap-a-pie,  who  fought  with  pike  and  battle-axe,— men 
robust  of  frame,  and  of  prodigious  strength.  The  worthy 
padre  Fray  Antonio  Agapida  describes  this  stranger  knight 
and  his  followers,  with  his  accustomed  accuracy  and  minute 
ness. 

"This  cavalier,"  he  observes,  "was  from  the  far  island  of 
England,  and  brought  with  him  a  train  of  his  vassals ;  men  who 
had  been  hardened  in  certain  civil  wars  which  raged  in  their 
country.  They  were  a  comely  race  of  men,  but  too  fair  and 
fresh  for  warriors,  not  having  the  sun-burnt  warlike  hue  of 
our  old  Castilian  soldiery.  They  were  huge  feeders  also,  and 
deep  carousers,  and  could  not  accommodate  themselves  to  the 
sober  diet  of  our  troops,  but  must  fain  eat  and  drink  after  the 
manner  of  their  own  country.  They  were  often  noisy  and 
unruly,  also,  in  their  wassail ;  and  their  quarter  of  the  camp 
was  prone  to  be  a  scene  of  loud  revel  and  sudden  brawl.  They 
were,  withal,  of  great  pride,  yet  it  was  not  like  our  inflamn^ 
ble  Spanish  pride ;  they  stood  not  much  upon  the  pundonor, 
the  high  punctilio,  and  rarely  drew  the  stiletto  in  their  dis> 
putes ;  but  their  pride  was  silent  and  contumelious.  Though 
from  a  remote  and  somewhat  barbarous  island,  they  believed 
themselves  the  most  perfect  men  upon  earth,  and  magnified 
their  chieftain,  the  lord  Scales,  beyond  the  greatest  of  their 
grandees.  With  all  this,  it  must  be  said  of  them  that  they 
were  marvellous  good  men  in  the  field,  dexterous  archers,  and 


THE   Co:\qUKST  OF  GRANADA. 

powerful  with  the  battle-axe.  In  their  great  pride  and  self- 
will,  they  always  sought  to  press  in  the  advance  and  take  the 
post  of  danger,  trying  to  outvie  our  Spanish  chivalry.  They 
did  not  rush  on  fiercely  to  the  fight,  nor  make  a  brilliant  onset 
like  the  Moorish  and  Spanish  troops,  but  they  went  into  the 
fight  deliberately  and  persisted  obstinately,  and  were  slow  to 
find  out  when  they  were  beaten.  Withal  they  were  much 
esteemed,  yet  little  liked  by  our  soldiery,  who  considered  them 
staunch  companions  in  the  field,  but  coveted  little  fellowship 
with  them  in  the  camp. 

"Their  commander,  the  lord  Scales,  was  an  accomplished 
cavalier,  of  gracious  and  noble  presence  and  fair  speech;  it 
was  a  marvel  to  see  so  much  courtesy  in  a  knight  brought  up 
so  far  from  our  Castilian  court.  He  was  much  honored  by  the 
king  and  queen,  and  found  great  favor  with  the  fair  dames 
about  the  court,  who  indeed  are  rather  prone  to  be  pleased  with 
foreign  cavaliers.  He  went  always  in  costly  state,  attended 
by  pages  and  esquires,  and  accompanied  by  noble  young  cava 
liers  of  his  country,  who  had  enrolled  themselves  under  his 
banner,  to  learn  the  gentle  exercise  of  arms.  In  all  pageants 
and  festivals,  the  eyes  of  the  populace  were  attracted  by  the 
singular  bearing  and  rich  array  of  the  English  earl  and  his 
train,  who  prided  themselves  in  always  appearing  in  the  garb 
and  manner  of  their  country— and  were  indeed  something  very 
magnificent,  delectable,  and  strange  to  behold." 

The  worthy  chronicler  is  no  less  elaborate  in  his  description 
of  the  Masters  of  Santiago,  Calatrava,  and  Alcantara,  and 
their  valiant  knights,  armed  at  all  points,  and  decorated  with 
the  badges  of  their  orders.  These,  he  affirms,  were  the  flower 
of  Christian  chivalry:  being  constantly  in  service,  they 
became  more  steadfast  and  accomplished  in  discipline,  than 
the  irregular  and  temporary  levies  of  the  feudal  nobles.  Calm, 
solemn,  and  stately,  they  sat  like  towers  upon  their  powerful 
chargers.  On  parades,  they  manifested  none  of  the  show  and 
ostentation  of  the  other  troops:  neither,  in  battle,  did  they 
endeavor  to  signalize  themselves  by  any  fiery  vivacity,  or  des 
perate  and  vain-glorious  exploit — every  thing,  with  them,  was 
measured  and  sedate ;  yet  it  was  observed  that  none  were  more 
warlike  in  their  appearance  in  the  camp,  or  more  terrible  for 
their  achievements  in  the  field. 

The  gorgeous  magnificence  of  the  Spanish  nobles  found  but 
little  favor  in  the  eyes  of  the  sovereigns.  They  saw  that  it 
caused  a  competition  in  expense,  ruinous  to  cavaliers  of 


154  Tim   CONQUEST,  OF  GRANADA. 

moderate  fortune ;  and  they  feared  that  a  softness  and  effemi 
nacy  might  thus  be  introduced,  incompatible  with  the  stern 
nature  of  the  war.  They  signified  their  disapprobation  to 
several  of  the  principal  noblemen,  and  recommended  a  more 
sober  and  soldierlike  display  while  in  actual  service. 

"These  are  rare  troops  for  a  tourney,  my  lord,"  said  Ferdi 
nand  to  the  duke  of  Infantado,  as  he  beheld  his  retainers 
glittering  in  gold  and  embroidery;  "but  gold,  though  gor 
geous,  is  soft  and  yielding:  iron  is  the  metal  for  the  field." 

"Sire,"  replied  the  duke,  "if  my  men  parade  in  gold,  your 
majesty  will  find  they  fight  with  steel."  The  king  smiled,  but 
shook  his  head,  and  the  duke  treasured  up  his  speech  in  his 
heart. 

It  remains  now  to  reveal  the  immediate  object  of  this  mighty 
and  chivalrous  preparation ;  which  had,  in  fact,  the  gratifica 
tion  of  a  royal  pique  at  bottom.  The  severe  lesson  which 
Ferdinand  had  received  from  the  veteran  Ali  Atar,  before  the 
walls  of  Loxa,  though  it  had  been  of  great  service  in  rendering 
him  wary  in  his  attacks  upon  fortified  places,  yet  rankled 
sorely  in  his  mind;  and  he  had  ever  since  held  Loxa  in 
peculiar  odium.  It  was,  in  truth,  one  of  the  most  belligerent 
and  troublesome  cities  on  the  borders;  incessantly  harassing 
Andalusia  by  its  incursions.  It  also  intervened  between  the 
Christian  territories  and  Alhama,  and  other  important  places 
gained  in  the  kingdom  of  Granada.  For  all  these  reasons, 
king  Ferdinand  had  determined  to  make  another  grand 
attempt  upon  this  warrior  city;  and  for  this  purpose,  he 
had  summoned  to  the  field  his  most  powerful  chivalry. 

It  was  in  the  month  of  May,  that  the  king  sallied  from 
Cordova,  at  the  head  of  his  army.  He  had  twelve  thousand 
cavalry  and  forty  thousand  foot-soldiers,  armed  with  cross 
bows,  lances,  and  arquebusses.  There  were  six  thousand 
pioneers,  with  hatchets,  pickaxes,  and  crowbars,  for  level 
ling  roads.  He  took  with  him,  also,  a  great  train  of  lombards 
and  other  heavy  artillery,  with  a  body  of  Germans  skilled  in 
the  service  of  ordnance  and  the  art  of  battering  walls. 

It  was  a  glorious  spectacle  (says  Fray  Antonio  Agapida)  to 
behold  this  pompous  pageant  issuing  forth  from  Cordova,  the 
pennons  and  devices  of  the  proudest  houses  of  Spain,  with 
those  of  gallant  stranger  knights,  fluttering  above  a  sea  of 
crests  and  plumes;  to  see  it  slowly  moving,  with  flash  of 
helm,  and  cuirass,  and  buckler,  across  the  ancient  bridge, 
and  reflected  in  the  waters  of  the  Guadalquivir,  while  the 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  OR  AN  AD  A.  155 

neigh  of  steed  and  blast  of  trumpet  vibrated  in  the  air,  and 
resounded  to  the  distant  mountains.  "But,  above  all,"  con 
cludes  the  good  father,  with  his  accustomed  zeal,  "it  was 
triumphant  to  behold  the  standard  of  the  faith  every  where 
displayed,  and  to  reilect  that  this  was  no  worldly-minded 
army,  intent  upon  some  temporal  scheme  of  ambition  or 
revenge;  but  a  Christian  host,  bound  on  a  crusade  to  extir 
pate  the  vile  seed  of  Mahomet  from  the  land,  and  to  extend 
the  pure  dominion  of  the  church." 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

HOW   FRESH    COMMOTIONS    BROKE    OUT    IN    GRANADA,     AND    HOW 
THE  PEOPLE  UNDERTOOK  TO  ALLAY  THEM. 

WHILE  perfect  unity  of  object  and  harmony  of  operation 
gave  power  to  the  Christian  arms,  the  devoted  kingdom  of 
Granada  continued  a  prey  to  internal  feuds.  The  transient 
popularity  of  El  Zagal  had  declined  ever  since  the  death  of 
his  brother,  and  the  party  of  Boabdil  el  Chico  was  daily 
gaining  strength:  the  Albaycin  and  the  Alhambra  were 
again  arrayed  against  each  other  in  deadly  strife,  and  the 
streets  of  unhappy  Granada  were  daily  dyed  in  the  blood 
of  her  children.  In  the  midst  of  these  dissensions,  tidings 
arrived  of  the  formidable  army  assembling  at  Cordova.  The 
rival  factions  paused  in  their  infatuated  brawls,  and  were 
roused  to  a  temporary  sense  of  the  common  danger.  They 
forthwith  resorted  to  their  old  expedient  of  new-modelling 
their  government,  or  rather  of  making  and  unmaking  kings. 
The  elevation  of  El  Zagal  to 'the  throne  had  not  produced 
the  desired  effect— what  then  was  to  be  done  ?  Recall  Boabdil 
el  Chico,  and  acknowledge  him  again  as  sovereign  ?  While 
they  were  in  a  popular  tumult  of  deliberation,  Hamet  Aben 
Zarrax,  surnamed  El  Santo,  arose  among  them.  This  was  the 
same  wild,  melancholy  man,  who  had  predicted  the  woes  of 
Granada.  He  issued  from  one  of  the  caverns  of  the  adjacent 
height  which  overhangs  the  Darro,  and  has  since  been  called 
the  Holy  Mountain.  His  appearance  was  more  haggard  than 
ever;  for  the  unheeded  spirit  of  prophecy  seemed  to  have 
turned  inwardly,  and  preyed  upon  his  vitals.  "Beware,  0 


156  THE  CONQUEST  OF  OR  AN  AD  A. 

Moslems,"  exclaimed  he,  "of  men  who  are  eager  to  govern, 
yet  are  unable  to  protect.  Why  slaughter  each  other  for  El 
Chico  or  El  Zagal?  Let  your  kings  renounce  their  contests, 
unite  for  the  salvation  of  Granada,  or  let  them  be  deposed." 

Hamet  Aben  Zarrax  had  long  been  revered  as  a  saint— he 
was  now  considered  an  oracle.  The  old  men  and  the  nobles 
immediately  consulted  together,  how  the  two  rival  kings 
might  be  brought  to  accord.  They  had  tried  most  expe 
dients  :  it  was  now  determined  to  divide  the  kingdom  between 
them ;  giving  Granada,  Malaga,  Velez  Malaga,  Almeria,  Almu- 
necar,  and  their  dependencies,  to  El  Zagal— and  the  residue  to 
Boabdil  el  Chico.  Among  the  cities  granted  to  the  latter, 
Loxa  was  particularly  specified,  with  a  condition  that  he 
should  immediately  take  command  of  it  in  person;  for  the 
council  thought  the  favor  he  enjoyed  with  the  Castilian  mon- 
archs  might  avert  the  threatened  attack. 

El  Zagal  readily  acceded  to  this  arrangement ;  he  had  been 
hastily  elevated  to  the  throne  by  an  ebullition  of  the  people, 
and  might  be  as  hastily  cast  down  again.  It  sec?ired  him  one- 
half  of  a  kingdom  to  which  he  had  no  hereditary  right,  and  he 
trusted  to  force  or  fraud  to  gain  the  other  half  hereafter.  The 
wily  old  monarch  even  sent  a  deputation  to  his  nephew,  mak 
ing  a  merit  of  offering  him  cheerfully  the  half  which  he  had 
thus  been  compelled  to  relinquish,  and  inviting  him  to  enter 
into  an  amicable  coalition  for  the  good  of  the  country. 

The  heart  of  Boabdil  shrunk  from  all  connection  with  a 
man  who  had  sought  his  life,  and  whom  he  regarded  as  the 
murderer  of  his  kindred.  He  accepted  one-half  of  the  king 
dom  as  an  offer  from  the  nation,  not  to  be  rejected  by  a  prince 
who  scarcely  held  possession  of  the  ground  he  stood  on.  He 
asserted,  nevertheless,  his  absolute  right  to  the  whole,  and 
only  submitted  to  the  partition  out  of  anxiety  for  the  present 
good  of  his  people.  He  assembled  his  handful  of  adherents, 
and  prepared  to  hasten  to  Loxa.  As  he  mounted  his  horse  to 
depart,  Hamet  Aben  Zarrax  stood  suddenly  before  him.  "Be 
true  to  thy  country  and  thy  faith,"  cried  he:  "hold  no  further 
communication  with  these  Christian  dogs.  Trust  not  the 
hollow-hearted  friendship  of  the  Castilian  king ;  he  is  mining 
the  earth  beneath  thy  feet.  Choose  one  of  two  things ;  be  a 
sovereign  or  a  slave  — thou  canst  not  be  both. " 

Boabdil  ruminated  on  these  words;  lie  made  many  wise 
resolutions,  but  he  was  prone  always  to  act  from  the  impulse 
of  the  momentj  and  was  unfortunately  given  to  temporize  in 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  157 

his  policy.  He  wrote  to  Ferdinand,  informing  him  that  Loxa 
and  certain  other  cities  had  returned  to  their  allegiance,  and 
that  he  held  them  as  vassal  to  the  Castilian  crown,  according 
to  their  convention.  He  conjured  him,  therefore,  to  refrain 
from  any  meditated  attack,  offering  free  passage  to  the  Span 
ish  army  to  Malaga,  or  any  other  place  under  the  dominion  of 
his  uncle.  * 

Ferdinand  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  the  entreaty,  and  to  all  pro 
fessions  of  friendship  and  vassalage.  Boabdil  was  nothing  to 
him,  but  as  an  instrument  for  stirring  up  the  flames  of  civil 
war.  He  now  insisted  that  he  had  entered  into  a  hostile 
league  with  his  uncle,  and  had  consequently  forfeited  all 
claims  to  his  indulgence ;  and  he  prosecuted,  with  the  greater 
earnestness,  his  campaign  against  the  city  of  Loxa. 

"Thus,"  observes  the  worthy  Fray  Antonio  Agapida,  "thus 
did  this  most  sagacious  sovereign  act  upon  the  text  in  the 
eleventh  chapter  of  the  Evangelist  St.  Luke,  that  '  a  kingdom 
divided  against  itself  cannot  stand. '  He  had  induced  these  in 
fidels  to  waste  and  destroy  themselves  by  internal  dissensions, 
and  finally  cast  forth  the  survivor ;  while  the  Moorish  mon- 
archs,  by  their  ruinous  contests,  made  good  the  old  Castilian 
proverb  in  cases  of  civil  war,  '  El  vencido  vencido,  y  el  venci- 
dor  perdido, '  (the  conquered  conquered,  and  the  conqueror  un 
done.)"! 


CHAPTEE  XXXVIII. 

HOW  KING  FERDINAND  HELD  A  COUNCIL  OF  WAR,  AT  THE  ROCK 
OF  THE  LOVERS. 

THE  royal  army,  on  its  march  against  Loxa,  lay  encamped, 
one  pleasant  evening  in  May,  in  a  meadow  on  the  banks  of  the 
river  Yeguas,  around  the  foot  of  a  lofty  cliff  called  the  Rock  of 
the  Lovers.  The  quarters  of  each  nobleman  formed  as  it  were 
a  separate  little  encampment ;  his  stately  pavilion,  surmount 
ed  by  his  fluttering  pennon,  rising  above  the  surrounding  tents 
of  his  vassals  and  retainers.  A  little  apart  from  the  others,  as 
it  were  in  proud  reserve,  was  the  encampment  of  the  English 
earl.  It  was  sumptuous  in  its  furniture,  and  complete  in  all 

*  Zurita,  lib.  20,  c.  68.  t  Garibay,  lib.  40,  c.  33. 


THE   CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

its  munitions.  Archers,  and  soldiers  armed  with  battle-axes, 
kept  guard  around  it;  while  above,  the  standard  of  England 
rolled  out  its  ample  folds,  and  flapped  in  the  evening  breeze. 

The  mingled  sounds  of  various  tongues  and  nations  were 
heard  from  the  soldiery,  as  they  watered  their  horses  in  the 
stream,  or  busied  themselves  round  the  fires  which  began  to 
glow,  here  and  there,  in  the  twilight :  the  gay  chanson  of  the 
Frenchman,  singing  of  his  amours  on  the  pleasant  banks  of 
the  Loire,  or  the  sunny  regions  of  the  Garonne ;  the  broad  gut 
tural  tones  of  the  German,  chanting  some  doughty  krieger  lied, 
or  extolling  the  vintage  of  the  Rhine ;  the  wild  romance  of  the 
Spaniard,  reciting  the  achievements  of  the  Cid,  and  many  a 
famous  passage  of  the  Moorish  wars ;  and  the  long  and  melan 
choly  ditty  of  the  Englishman,  treating  of  some  feudal  hero  or 
redoubtable  outlaw  of  his  distant  island. 

On  a  rising  ground,  commanding  a  view  of  the  Avhole  en 
campment,  stood  the  ample  and  magnificent  pavilion  of  the 
king,  with  the  banner  of  Castile  and  Arragon,  and  the  holy 
standard  of  the  cross,  erected  before  it.  In  this  tent  were  as 
sembled  the  principal  commanders  of  the  army,  having  been 
summoned  by  Ferdinand  to  a  council  of  war,  on  receiving 
tidings  that  Boabdil  had  thrown  himself  into  Loxa  with  a  con 
siderable  reinforcement.  After  some  consultation,  it  was  de 
termined  to  invest  Loxa  on  both  sides :  one  part  of  the  army 
should  seize  upon  the  dangerous  but  commanding  height  of 
Santo  Albohacen,  in  front  of  the  city ;  while  the  remainder, 
making  a  circuit,  should  encamp  on  the  opposite  side. 

No  sooner  was  this  resolved  upon,  than  the  marques  of 
Cadiz  stood  forth  and  claimed  the  post  of  danger  in  behalf  of 
himself  and  those  cavaliers,  his  companions  in  arms,  Avho  had 
been  compelled  to  relinquish  it  by  the  general  retreat  of  the 
army  on  the  former  siege.  The  enemy  had  exulted  over 
them,  as  if  driven  from  it  in  disgrace.  To  regain  that  perilous 
height,  to  pitch  their  tents  upon  it,  and  to  avenge  the  blood  of 
their  valiant  compeer,  the  Master  of  Calatrava,  who  had  fallen 
upon  it,  was  due  to  their  fame ;  the  marques  demanded  there 
fore  that  they  might  lead  the  advance  and  secure  that  height, 
engaging  to  hold  the  enemy  employed  until  the  main  army 
should  take  its  position  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  city. 

King  Ferdinand  readily  granted  his  permission ;  upon  which 
the  count  de  Cabra  entreated  to  be  admitted  to  a  share  of  the 
enterprise.  He  had  always  been  accustomed  to  serve  in  the 
advance ;  and  now  that  Boabdil  was  in  the  field,  and  a  king 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  lf>9 

was  to  be  taken,  he  could  not  content  himself  with  remaining 
in  the  rear.  Ferdinand  yielded  his  consent,  for  he  was  dis 
posed  to  give  the  good  count  every  opportunity  to  retrieve  his 
late  disaster. 

The  English  earl,  when  he  heard  there  was  an  enterprise  ot 
danger  in  question,  was  hot  to  be  admitted  to  the  party;  but 
the  king  restrained  his  ardor.  "These  cavaliers,"  said  he, 
' '  conceive  that  they  have  an  account  to  settle  with  their  pride ; 
let  them  have  the  enterprise  to  themselves,  my  lord;  if  you 
follow  these  Moorish  wars  long,  you  will  find  no  lack  of  peril 
ous  service." 

The  marques  of  Cadiz,  and  his  companions  in  arms,  struck 
their  tents  before  daybreak;  they  were  five  thousand  horse 
and  twelve  thousand  foot,  and  marched  rapidly  along  the  de 
files  of  the  mountains;  the  cavaliers  being  anxious  to  strike 
the  blow,  and  get  possession  of  the  height  of  Albohacen,  be 
fore  the  king  with  the  main  army  should  arrive  to  their  assis 
tance. 

The  city  of  Loxa  stands  on  a  high  hill,  between  two  moun 
tains,  on  the  banks  of  the  Xenel.  To  attain  the  height  of  Al 
bohacen,  the  troops  had  to  pass  over  a  tra«t  of  rugged  and 
broken  country,  and  a  deep  valley,  intersected  by  those  canals 
and  water-courses  with  which  the  Moors  irrigated  their  lands: 
they  were  extremely  embarrassed  in  this  part  of  their  march, 
and  in  imminent  risk  of  being  cut  up  in  detail  before  they 
could  reach  the  height. 

The  count  de  Cabra,  with  his  usual  eagerness,  endeavored  to 
push  across  this  valley,  in  defiance  of  every  obstacle:  he,  in 
consequence,  soon  became  entangled  with  his  cavalry  among 
the  canals ;  but  his  impatience  would  not  permit  him  to  retrace 
his  steps  and  choose  a  more  practicable  but  circuitous  route. 
Others  slowly  crossed  another  part  of  the  valley,  by  the  aid  of 
pontoons;  while  the  marques  of  Cadiz,  Don  Alonzo  de  Aguilar, 
and  the  count  de  Ureiia,  being  more  experienced  in  the  ground 
from  their  former  campaign,  made  a  circuit  round  the  bottom 
of  the  height,  and,  winding  up  it,  began  to  display  their  squa 
drons  and  elevate  their  banners  on  the  redoubtable  post, 
which,  in  the  former  siege,  they  had  been  compelled  so  reluc 
tantly  to  abandon. 


160  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

HOW  THE  ROYAL  ARMY  APPEARED  BEFORE  THE  CITY  OF  LOXA, 
AND  HOW  IT  WAS  RECEIVED ;  AND  OF  THE  DOUGHTY  ACHIEVE 
MENTS  OF  THE  ENGLISH  EARL. 

THE  advance  of  the  Christian  army  upon  Loxa,  threw  the 
wavering  Boabdil  el  Chico  into  one  of  his  usual  dilemmas;  and 
he  was  greatly  perplexed  between  his  oath  of  allegiance  to 
the  Spanish  sovereigns,  and  his  sense  of  duty  to  his  subjects. 
His  doubts  were  determined  by  the  sight  of  the  enemy  glitter 
ing  upon  the  height  of  Albohacen,  and  by  the  clamors  of  the 
people  to  be  led  forth  to  battle.  "Allah!"  exclaimed  he, 
"thou  knowest  my  heart:  thou  knowest  I  have  been  true  in 
my  faith  to  this  Christian  monarch.  I  have  offered  to  hold 
Loxa  as  his  vassal,  but  he  has  preferred  to  approach  it  as  an 
enemy— on  his  head  be  the  infraction  of  our  treaty !" 

Boabdil  was  not  wanting  in  courage ;  he  only  needed  deci 
sion.  When  he  had  once  made  up  his  mind,  he  acted  vigor 
ously  ;  the  misfortune  was,  he  either  did  not  make  it  up  at  all, 
or  he  made  it  up  too  late.  He  who  decides  tardily  generally 
acts  rashly,  endeavoring  to  make  up  by  hurry  of  action  for 
slowness  of  deliberation.  Boabdil  hastily  buckled  on  his 
armor,  and  sallied  forth,  surrounded  by  his  guards,  and  at  the 
head  of  five  hundred  horse  and  four  thousand  foot,  the  flower 
of  his  army.  Some  he  detached  to  skirmish  with  the  Chris 
tians  who  were  scattered  and  perplexed  in  the  valley,  and  to 
prevent  their  concentrating  their  forces ;  while,  with  his  main 
body,  he  pressed  forward  to  drive  the  enemy  from  the  height 
of  Albohacen,  before  they  had  time  to  collect  there  in  any 
number,  or  to  fortify  themselves  in  that  important  position. 

The  worthy  count  de  Cabra  was  yet  entangled  with  his 
cavalry  among  the  water-courses  of  the  valley,  when  he  heard 
the  war-cries  of  the  Moors,  and  saw  their  army  rushing  ove* 
the  bridge.  He  recognized  Boabdil  himself,  by  his  splendid 
armor,  the  magnificent  caparison  of  his  steed,  and  the  brilliant 
guard  which  surrounded  him.  The  royal  host  swept  on  to 
ward  the  height  of  Albohacen :  an  intervening  hill  hid  it  from 
his  sight;  but  loud  shouts  and  cries,  the  din  of  drums  and 
trumpets,  and  the  reports  of  arquebusses,  gave  note  that  the 
battle  had  begun. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  161 

Here  was  a  royal  prize  in  the  field"  and  the  count  de  Cabra 
unable  to  get  into  the  action !  The  good  cavalier  was  in  an 
agony  of  impatience;  every  attempt  to  force  his  way  across 
the  valley,  only  plunged  him  into  new  difficulties.  At  length, 
after  many  eager  but  ineffectual  efforts,  he  was  obliged  to 
order  his  troops  to  dismount,  and  slowly  and  carefully  to  lead 
their  horses  back,  along  slippery  paths,  and  amid  plashes  of 
mire  and  water,  where  often  there  was  scarce  a  foothold.  The 
good  count  groaned  in  spirit,  and  sweat  with  mere  impatience 
as  he  went,  fearing  the  battle  might  be  fought,  and  the  prize 
won  or  lost,  before  he  could  reach  the  field.  Having  at  length 
toilfully  unravelled  the  mazes  of  the  valley,  and  arrived  at 
firmer  ground,  he  ordered  his  troops  to  mount,  and  led  them 
full  gallop  to  the  height.  Part  of  the  good  count's  wishes  were 
satisfied,  but  the  dearest  were  disappointed :  he  came  in  season 
to  partake  of  the  very  hottest  of  the  fight,  but  the  royal  prize 
was  no  longer  in  the  field. 

Boabdil  had  led  on  his  men  with  impetuous  valor,  or  rather 
with  hurried  rashness.  Heedlessly  exposing  himself  in  the 
front  of  the  battle,  he  received  two  wounds  in  the  very  first 
encounter.  His  guards  rallied  round  him,  defended  him  with 
matchless  valor,  and  bore  him,  bleeding,  out  of  the  action. 
The  count  de  Cabra  arrived  just  in  time  to  see  the  loyal  squa 
dron  crossing  the  bridge,  and  slowly  conveying  their  disabled 
monarch  towards  the  gate  of  the  city. 

The  departure  of  Boabdil  made  no  difference  in  the  fury  of 
the  battle.  A  Moorish  warrior,  dark  and  terrible  in  aspect, 
mounted  on  a  black  charger  and  followed  by  a  band  of  savage 
Gomeres,  rushed  forward  to  take  the  lead.  It  was  Hamet  el 
Zegri,  the  fierce  alcayde  of  Eonda,  with  the  remnant  of  his 
once  redoubtable  garrison.  Animated  by  his  example,  the 
Moors  renewed  their  assaults  upon  the  height.  It  was  bravely 
defended,  on  one  side  by  the  marques  of  Cadiz,  on  another  by 
Don  Alonzo  de  Aguilar;  and  as  fast  as  the  Moors  ascended, 
they  were  driven  back  and  dashed  down  the  declivities.  The 
count  de  Ureiia  took  his  stand  upon  the  fatal  spot  where  his 
brother  had  fallen;  his  followers  entered  with  zeal  into  the 
feelings  of  their  commander,  and  heaps  of  the  enemy  sunk 
beneath  their  weapons— sacrifices  to  the  manes  of  the  lamented 
Master  of  Calatrava. 

The  battle  continued  with  incredible  obstinacy.  The  Moors 
knew  the  importance  of  the  height  to  the  safety  of  the  city ; 
the  cavaliers  felt  their  honors  staked  to  maintain  it.  Fresh 


162  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

supplies  of  troops  were  poured  out  of  the  city ;  some  battled  on 
the  height,  while  some  attacked  the  Christians  who  were  still 
in  the  valley  and  among  the  orchards  and  gardens,  to  prevent 
their  uniting  their  forces.  The  troops  in  the  valley  were 
gradually  driven  back,  and  the  whole  host  of  the  Moors  swept 
around  the  height  of  Albohacen.  The  situation  of  the  marques 
de  Cadiz  and  his  companions  was  perilous  in  the  extreme: 
they  were  a  mere  handful ;  and,  while  they  were  fighting  hand 
to  hand  with  the  Moors  who  assailed  the  height,  they  were 
galled  from  a  distance  by  the  cross-bows  and  arquebusses  of  a 
host  that  augmented  each  moment  in  number.  At  this  critical 
juncture,  king  Ferdinand  emerged  from  the  mountains  with 
the  main  body  of  the  army,  and  advanced  to  an  eminence  com 
manding  a  full  view  of  the  field  of  action.  By  his  side  was  the 
noble  English  cavalier,  the  earl  of  Rivers.  This  was  the  first 
time  he  had  witnessed  a  scene  of  Moorish  warfare.  He  looked 
with  eager  interest  at  the  chance  medley  fight  before  him, 
where  there  was  the  wild  career  of  cavalry,  the  irregular  and 
tumultuous  rush  of  infantry,  and  where  Christian  helm  and 
Moorish  turban  were  intermingled  in  deadly  struggle.  The 
high  blood  of  the  English  knight  mounted  at  the  sight,  and  his 
soul  was  stirred  within  him,  by  the  confused  war-cries,  the 
clangor  of  drums  and  trumpets,  and  the  reports  of  arquebusses, 
that  came  echoing  up  the  mountains.  Seeing  that  the  king 
was  sending  a  reinforcement  to  the  field,  he  entreated  permis 
sion  to  mingle  in  the  affray,  and  fight  according  to  the  fashion 
of  his  country.  His  request  being  granted,  he  alighted  from 
his  steed :  he  was  merely  armed  en  bianco,  that  is  to  say,  with 
morion,  back-piece,  and  breast-plate ;  his  sword  was  girded  by 
his  side,  and  in  his  hand  he  wielded  a  powerful  battle-axe.  He 
was  followed  by  a  body  of  his  yeomen,  armed  in  like  manner, 
and  by  a  band  of  archers  with  bows  made  of  the  tough  English 
yew-tree.  The  earl  turned  to  his  troops,  and  addressed  them 
briefly  and  bluntly,  according  to  the  manner  of  his  country. 
"Remember,  my  merry  men  all,"  said  he,  "the  eyes  of 
strangers  are  upon  you ;  you  are  in  a  foreign  land,  fighting  for 
the  glory  of  God,  and  the  honor  of  merry  old  England !"  A 
loud  shout  was  the  reply.  The  earl  waved  his  battle-axe  over 
his  head:  "St.  George  for  England!"  cried  he;  and  to  the  in 
spiring  sound  of  this  old  English  war-cry,  he  and  his  followers 
rushed  down  to  the  battle  with  manly  and  courageous  heart.  * 

*  Cura  de  los  Palacios. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

They  soon  made  their  way  into  the  midst  of  the  enemy ;  but 
when  engaged  in  the  hottest  of  the  fight,  they  made  no  shouts 
or  outcries.  They  pressed  steadily  forward,  dealing  their 
blows  to  right  and  left,  hewing  down  the  Moors,  and  cutting 
their  way,  with  their  battle-axes,  like  woodmen  in  a  forest; 
while  the  archers,  pressing  into  tjie  opening  they  made,  plied 
their  bows  vigorously,  and  spread  death  on  every  side. 

When  the  Castilian  mountaineers  beheld  the  valor  of  the 
English  yeomanry,  they  would  not  be  outdone  in  hardihood. 
They  could  not  vie  with  them  in  weight  or  bulk,  but  for  vigor 
and  activity  they  were  surpassed  by  none.  They  kept  pace 
with  them,  therefore,  with  equal  heart  and  rival  prowess,  and 
gave  a  brave  support  to  the  stout  Englishmen. 

The  Moors  were  confounded  by  the  fury  of  these  assaults, 
and  disheartened  by  the  loss  of  Hemet  el  Zegri,  who  was  car 
ried  wounded  from  the  field.  They  gradually  fell  back  upon 
the  bridge;  the  Christians  followed  up  their  advantage,  and 
drove  them  over  it  tumultuously.  The  Moors  retreated  into 
the  suburb ;  and  lord  Rivers  and  his  troops  entered  with  them 
pell-mell,  fighting  in  the  streets  and  in  the  houses.  King  Fer 
dinand  came  up  to  the  scene  of  action  with  his  royal  guard, 
and  the  infidels  were  driven  within  the  city  walls.  Thus  were 
the  suburbs  gained  by  the  hardihood  of  the  English  lord,  with 
out  such  an  event  having  been  premeditated.* 

The  earl  of  Rivers,  notwithstanding  he  had  received  a 
wound,  still  urged  forward  in  the  attack.  He  penetrated 
almost  to  the  city  gate,  in  defiance  of  a  shower  of  missiles 
that  slew  many  of  his  followers.  A  stone,  hurled  from  the 
battlements,  checked  his  impetuous  career:  it  struck  him  in 
the  face,  dashed  out  two  of  his  front  teeth,  and  laid  him  sense 
less  on  the  earth.  He  was  removed  to  a  short  distance  by  his 
men ;  but,  recovering  his  senses,  refused  to  permit  himself  to 
be  taken  from  the  suburb. 

When  the  contest  was  over,  the  streets  presented  a  piteous 
spectacle— so  many  of  their  inhabitants  had  died  in  the  de 
fence  of  their  thresholds,  or  been  slaughtered  without  resist 
ance.  Among  the  victims  was  a  poor  weaver,  who  had  been 
at  work  in  his  dwelling  at  this  turbulent  moment.  His  wife 
urged  him  to  fly  into  the  city.  "Why  should  I  fly?"  said  the 
Moor— "  to  be  reserved  for  hunger  and  slavery?  I  tell  you, 
wife,  I  will  await  the  foe  here ;  for  better  is  it  to  die  quickly 

*  Cura  de  los  Palacios.    MS. 


164  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

by  the  steel,  than  to  perish  piecemeal  in  chains  and  dun 
geons."  He  said  no  more*  but  resumed  his  occupation  of 
weaving;  and  in  the  indiscriminate  fury  of  the  assault,  was 
slaughtered  at  his  loom.* 

The  Christians  remained  masters  of  the  field,  and  proceeded 
to  pitch  three  encampments^  for  the  prosecution  of  the  siege. 
The  king,  with  the  great  body  of  the  army,  took  a  position  on 
the  side  of  the  city  next  to  Granada :  the  marques  of  Cadiz 
and  his  brave  companions  once  more  pitched  their  tents  upon 
the  heights  of  Santo  Albohacen :  but  the  English  earl  planted 
his  standard  sturdily  within  the  suburb  he  had  taken. 


CHAPTEE  XL. 

CONCLUSION  OF  THE  SIEGE  OF  LOXA. 

HAVING  possession  of  the  heights  of  Albohacen  and  the 
suburb  of  the  city,  the  Christians  were  enabled  to  choose  the 
most  favorable  situations  for  their  batteries.  They  imme 
diately  destroyed  the  stone  bridge,  by  which  the  garrison  had 
made  its  sallies ;  and  they  threw  two  wooden  bridges  across 
the  river,  and  others  over  the  canals  and  streams,  so  as  to 
establish  an  easy  communication  between  the  different  camps. 

When  all  was  arranged,  a  heavy  fire  was  opened  upon  the 
city  from  various  points.  They  threw,  not  only  balls  of  stone 
and  iron,  but  great  carcasses  of  fire,  which  burst  like  meteors 
on  the  houses,  wrapping  them  instantly  in  a  blaze.  The  walls 
were  shattered,  and  the  towers  toppled  down,  by  tremendous 
discharges  from  the  lombards.  Through  the  openings  thus 
made,  they  could  behold  the  interior  of  the  city — houses 
tumbling  or  in  flames— men,  women,  and  children,  flying  in 
terror  through  the  streets,  'and  slaughtered  by  the  shower  of 
missiles,  sent  through  the  openings  from  smaller  artillery,  and 
from  cross-blows  and  arquebusses. 

The  Moors  attempted  to  repair  the  breaches,  but  fresh  dis 
charges  from  the  lombards  buried  them  beneath  the  ruins  of 
the  walls  they  were  mending.  In  their  despair,  many  of  the 
inhabitants  rushed  forth  into  the  narrow  streets  of  the 
suburbs,  and  assailed  the  Christians  with  darts,  scimitars,  and 

*  Pulgar,  part  3,  c.  58. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  165 

poniards,  seeking  to  destroy  rather  than  defend,  and  heedless 
of  death,  in  the  confidence  that  to  die  fighting  with  an  un 
believer,  was  to  be  translated  at  once  to  paradise. 

For  two  nights  and  a  day  this  awful  scene  continued ;  when 
certain  of  the  principal  inhabitants  began  to  reflect  upon  the 
hopelessness  of  the  conflict:  their  king  was  disabled,  their 
principal  captains  were  either  killed  or  wounded,  their  fortifi 
cations  little  better  than  heaps  of  ruins.  They  had  urged  the 
unfortunate  Boabdil  to  the  conflict ;  they  now  clamored  for  a 
capitulation.  A  parley  was  procured  from  the  Christian  mon 
arch,  and  the  terms  of  surrender  were  soon  adjusted.  They 
were  to  yield  up  the  city  immediately,  with  all  their  Christian 
captives,  and  to  sally  forth  with  as  much  of  their  property  as 
they  could  take  with  them.  The  marques  of  Cadiz,  on  whose 
honor  and  humanity  they  had  great  reliance,  was  to  escort 
them  to  Granada,  to  protect  them  from  assault  or  robbery: 
such  as  chose  to  remain  in  Spain  were  to  be  permitted  to 
reside  in  Castile,  Arragon,  or  Valencia.  As  to  Boabdil  el 
Chico,  he  was  to  do  homage  as  vassal  to  king  Ferdinand,  but 
no  charge  was  to  be  urged  against  him  of  having  violated  his 
former  pledge.  If  he  should  yield  up  all  pretensions  to 
Granada,  the  title  of  duke  of  Cuadix  was  to  be  assigned  to 
him,  and  the  territory  thereto  annexed,  provided  it  should  be 
recovered  from  El  Zagal  within  six  months. 

The  capitulation  being  arranged,  they  gave  as  hostages  the 
alcayde  of  the  city,  and  the  principal  officers,  together  with 
the  sons  of  their  late  chieftain,  the  veteran  Ali  Atar.  The 
warriors  of  Loxa  then  issued  forth,  humbled  and  dejected  at 
having  to  surrender  those  walls  which  they  had  so  long  main 
tained  with  valor  and  renown ;  and  the  women  and  children 
filled  the  air  with  lamentations,  at  being  exiled  from  their 
native  homes. 

Last  came  forth  Boabdil,  most  truly  called  El  Zogoybi,  the 
unlucky.  Accustomed,  as  he  was,  to  be  crowned  and  un 
crowned,  to  be  ransomed  and  treated  as  a  matter  of  bargain, 
he  had  acceded  of  course  to  the  capitulation.  He  was  en 
feebled  by  his  wounds,  and  had  an  air  of  dejection ;  yet  it  is 
said,  his  conscience  acquitted  him  of  a  breach  of  faith  towards 
the  Castilian  sovereigns,  and  the  personal  valor  he  had  dis 
played  had  caused  a  sympathy  for  him  among  many  of  the 
Christian  cavaliers.  He  knelt  to  Ferdinand  according  to  the 
forms  of  vassalage,  and  then  departed,  in  melancholy  mood, 
for  Priego,  a  town  about  three  leagues  distant. 


166  TllK  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

Ferdinand  immediately  ordered  Loxa  to  be  repaired,  and 
strongly  garrisoned.  He  was  greatly  elated  at  the  capture  of 
this  place,  in  consequence  of  his  former  defeat  before  its  walls. 
He  passed  great  encomiums  upon  the  commanders  who  had 
distinguished  themselves;  and  historians  dwell  particularly 
upon  Ms  visit  to  the  tent  of  the  English  earl.  His  majesty 
consoled  him  for  the  loss  of  his  teeth,  by  the  consideration  that 
he  might  otherwise  have  lost  them  by  natural  decay ;  whereas 
the  lack  of  them  would  now  be  esteemed  a  beauty,  rather  than 
a  defect,  serving  as  a  trophy  of  the  glorious  cause  in  which  he 
had  been  engaged. 

The  earl  replied,  that  he  gave  thanks  to  God  and  to  the  holy 
virgin,  for  being  thus  honored  by  a  visit  from  the  most  potent 
king  in  Christendom ;  that  he  accepted  with  all  gratitude  his 
gracious  consolation  for  the  loss  of  his  teeth,  though  he  held  it 
little  to  lose  two  teeth  in  the  service  of  God,  who  had  given 
him  all:— "A  speech,"  says  Fray  Antonio  Agapida,  "full  of 
most  courtly  wit  and  Christian  piety;  and  one  only  marvels 
that  it  should  have  been  made  by  a  native  of  an  island  so  far 
distant  from  Castile." 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

CAPTURE   OF  ILLORA. 

KING  FERDINAND  followed  up  his  victory  at  Loxa,  by  laying 
siege  to  the  strong  town  of  Illora.  This  redoubtable  fortress 
was  perched  upon  a  high  rock,  in  the  midst  of  a  spacious  val 
ley.  It  was  within  four  leagues  of  the  Moorish  capital ;  and 
its  lofty  castle,  keeping  vigilant  watch  over  a  wide  circuit  of 
country,  was  termed  the  right  eye  of  Granada, 

The  alcayde  of  Illora  was  one  of  the  bravest  of  the  Moorish 
commanders,  and  made  every  preparation  co  defend  his  for 
tress  to  the  last  extremity.  He  sent  the  women  and  children, 
the  aged  and  infirm,  to  the  metropolis.  He  placed  barricades 
in  the  suburbs,  opened  doors  of  communication  from  house  to 
house,  and  pierced  their  walls  with  loop-holes  for  the  discharge 
of  cross-bows,  arquebusses,  and  other  missiles. 

King  Ferdinand  arrived  before  the  place,  with  all  his  forces ; 
he  stationed  himself  upon  the  hill  of  Encinilla,  and  distributed 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  167 

the  other  encampments  in  various  situations,  so  as  to  invest 
the  fortress.  Knowing  the  valiant  character  of  the  alcayde, 
and  the  desperate  courage  of  the  Moors,  he  ordered  the  en 
campments  to  be  fortified  with  trenches  and  pallisadoes,  the 
guards  to  be  doubled,  and  sentinels  to  be  placed  in  all  the 
watch-towers  of  the  adjacent  heights. 

When  all  was  ready,  the  duke  del  Infantado  demanded  the 
attack ;  it  was  his  first  campaign,  and  he  was  anxious  to  dis 
prove  the  royal  insinuation  made  against  the  hardihood  of  his 
embroidered  chivalry.  Kind  Ferdinand  granted  his  demand, 
with  a  becoming  compliment  to  his  spirit;  he  ordered  the 
count  de  Cabra  to  make  a  simultaneous  attack  upon  a  differ 
ent  quarter.  Both  chiefs  led  forth  their  troops ; — those  of  the 
duke  in  fresh  and  brilliant  armor,  richly  ornamented,  and  as 
yet  uninjured  by  the  service  of  the  field ;  those  of  the  count 
were  weatherbeaten  veterans,  whose  armor  was  dented  and 
hacked  in  many  a  hard-fought  battle.  The  youthful  duke 
blushed  at  the  contrast.  "Cavaliers,"  cried  he,  uwe  have 
been  reproached  with  the  finery  of  our  array:  let  us  prove 
that  a  trenchant  blade  may  rest  in  a  gilded  sheath.  Forward ! 
to  the  foe !  and  I  trust  in  God,  that  as  we  enter  this  affray 
knights  well  accoutred,  so  we  shall  leave  it  cavaliers  well 
proved."  His  men  responded  by  eager  acclamations,  and  the 
duke  led  them  forward  to  the  assault.  He  advanced  under  a 
tremendous  shower  of  stones,  darts,  balls,  and  arrows;  but 
nothing  could  check  his  career ;  he  entered  the  suburb  sword 
in  hand ;  his  men  fought  furiously,  though  with  great  loss,  for 
every  dwelling  had  been  turned  into  a  fortress.  After  a  se 
vere  conflict,  they  succeeded  in  driving  the  Moors  into  the 
town,  about  the  same  time  that  the  other  suburb  was  car 
ried  by  the  count  de  Cabra  and  his  veterans.  The  troops  of 
the  duke  del  Infantado  came  out  of  the  contest  thinned  in 
number,  and  covered  with  blood,  and  dust,  and  wounds :  they 
received  the  highest  encomiums  of  the  king,  and  there  was 
never  afterwards  any  sneer  at  their  embroidery. 

The  suburbs  being  taken,  three  batteries,  each  furnished 
with  eight  huge  lombards,  were  opened  upon  the  fortress. 
The  damage  and  havoc  were  tremendous,  for  the  fortifica 
tions  had  not  been  constructed  to  withstand  such  engines. 
The  towers  were  overthrown,  the  walls  battered  to  pieces;  the 
interior  of  the  place  was  all  exposed,  houses  demolished,  and 
many  people  slain.  The  Moors  were  terrified  by  the  tumbling 
ruins,  and  the  tremendous  din.  The  alcayde  had  -esolved  to 


168  THE  COX  QUEST  OF  G  HAN  AD  A. 

defend  the  place  until  the  last  extremity ;  he  beheld  it  a  heap 
of  rubbish ;  there  was  no  prospect  of  aid  from  Granada ;  his 
people  had  lost  all  spirit  to  fight,  and  were  vociferous  for  a 
surrender ;  with  a  reluctant  heart,  he  capitulated.  The  inhabi 
tants  were  permitted  to  depart  with  all  their  effects,  excepting 
their  arms ;  and  were  escorted  in  safety  by  the  duke  del  In- 
fantado  and  the  count  de  Cabra,  to  the  bridge  of  Pinos,  within 
two  leagues  of  Granada. 

King  Ferdinand  gave  directions  to  repair  the  fortifications 
of  Illora,  and  to  place  it  in  a  strong  state  of  defence.  He  left, 
as  alcayde  of  the  town  and  fortress,  Gonsalvo  de  Cordova, 
younger  brother  of  Don  Alonzo  de  Aguilar.  This  gallant  ca 
valier  was  captain  of  the  royal  guards  of  Ferdinand  and  Isa 
bella,  and  gave  already  proofs  of  that  prowess  which  after 
wards  rendered  him  so  renowned. 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

OF  THE  ARRIVAL  OF  QUEEN  ISABELLA  AT  THE  CAMP  BEFORE 
MOCLIN;  AND  OF  THE  PLEASANT  SAYINGS  OF  THE  ENGLISH 
EARL. 

THE  war  of  Granada,  however  poets  may  embroider  it  with 
the  flowers  of  their  fancy,  was  certainly  one  of  the  sternest  of 
those  iron  conflicts  which  have  been  celebrated  under  the 
name  of  holy  wars.  The  worthy  Fray  Antonio  Agapida 
dwells  with  unsated  delight  upon  the  succession  of  rugged 
mountain  enterprises,  bloody  battles,  and  merciless  sackings 
and  ravages  which  characterized  it ;  yet  we  find  him  on  one 
occasion  pausing  in  the  full  career  of  victory  over  the  infidels, 
to  detail  a  stately  pageant  of  the  Catholic  sovereigns. 

Immediately  on  the  capture  of  Loxa,  Ferdinand  had  written 
to  Isabella,  soliciting  her  presence  at  the  camp,  that  he  might 
consult  with  her  as  to  the  disposition  of  their  newly  acquired 
territories.  v 

It  was  in  the  early  part  of  June  that  the  queen  departed 
from.  Cordova,  with  the  princess  Isabella  and  numerous  ladies 
of  her  court.  She  had  a  glorious  attendance  of  cavaliers  and 
pages,  with  many  guards  and  domestics.  There  were  forty 
mules,  for  the  use  of  the  queen,  the  princess,  and  their  train. 

As  this  courtly  cavalcade    approached    the    Rock  of   the 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  OR  AN  AD  A.  K>9 

Lovers,  on  the  banks  of  the  river  Yeguas,  they  beheld  a  splen 
did  train  of  knights  advancing  to  meet  them.  It  was  headed 
by  that  accomplished  .cavalier  the  marques  duke  de  Cadiz,  ac 
companied  by  the  adelantado  of  Andalusia.  He  had  left  the 
camp  the  day  after  the  capture  of  Illora,  and  advanced  thus 
far  to  receive  the  queen  and  escort  her  over  the  borders.  The 
queen  received  the  marques  with  distinguished  honor ;  for  he 
was  esteemed  the  mirror  of  chivalry.  His  actions  in  this  war 
had  become  the  theme  of  every  tongue,  and  many  hesitated 
not  to  compare  him  in  prowess  to  the  immortal  Cid.* 

Thus  gallantly  attended,  the  queen  entered  the  vanquished 
frontier  of  Granada;  journeying  securely  along  the  pleasant 
banks  of  the  Xenel,  so  lately  subject  to  the  scourings  of  the 
Moors.  She  stopped  at  Loxa,  where  she  administered  aid  and 
consolation  to  the  wounded,  distributing  money  among  them 
for  their  support,  according  to  their  rank. 

The  king,  after  the  capture  of  Illora,  had  removed  his  camp 
before  the  fortress  of  Moclin,  with  an  intention  of  besieging  it. 
Thither  the  queen  proceeded,  still  escorted  through  the  moun 
tain  roads  by  the  marques  of  Cadiz.  As  Isabella  drew  near  to 
the  camp,  the  duke  del  Infantado  issued  forth  a  league  and  a 
half  to  receive  her,  magnificently  arrayed,  and  followed  by  all 
his  chivalry  in  glorious  attire.  With  him  came  the  standard 
of  Seville,  borne  by  the  men-at-arms  of  that  renowned  city ; 
and  the  Prior  of  St.  Juan,  with  his  followers.  They  arrayed 
themselves  in  order  of  battle,  on  the  left  of  the  road  by  which 
the  queen  was  to  pass. 

The  worthy  Agapida  is  loyally  minute,  in  his  description  of 
the  state  and  grandeur  of  the  Catholic  sovereigns.  The  queen 
rode  a  chestnut  mule,  seated  in  a  magnificent  saddle-chair 
decorated  with  silver  gilt.  The  housings  of  the  mule  were  of 
fine  crimson  cloth;  the  borders  embroidered  with  gold;  the 
reins  and  head-piece  were  of  satin,  curiously  embossed  with 
needlework  of  silk,  and  wrought  with  golden  letters.  The 
queen  wore  a  brial,  or  regal  skirt  of  velvet,  under  which 
were  others  of  brocade ;  a  scarlet  mantle,  ornamented  in  the 
Moresco  fashion;  and  a  black  hat,  embroidered  round  the 
crown  and  brim. 

The  Infanta  was  likewise  mounted  on  a  chestnut  mule,  richly 
caparisoned :  she  wore  a  brial  or  skirt  of  black  brocade,  and  a 
black  mantle  ornamented  like  that  of  the  queen. 

*  Cura  de  los  Palacios. 


170  THE  CONQUKST  OF  GRANADA. 

When  the  royal  cavalcade  passed  by  the  chivalry  of  the  duke 
del  Infantado,  which  was  drawn  out  in  battle  array,  the  queen 
made  a  reverence  to  the  standard  of  Seville,  and  ordered  it  to 
pass  to  the  right  hand.  When  she  approached  the  camp,  the 
multitude  ran  forth  to  meet  her,  with  great  demonstrations  of 
joy ;  for  she  was  universally  beloved  by  her  subjects.  All  the 
battalions  sallied  forth  in  military  array,  bearing  the  various 
standards  and  banners  of  the  camp,  which  were  lowered  in 
salutation  as  she  passed. 

The  king  now  came  forth  in  royal  state,  mounted  on  a  superb 
chestnut  horse,  and  attended  by  many  grandees  of  Castile. 
He  wore  a  jubon  or  close  vest  of  crimson  cloth,  with  cuisses  or 
short  skirts  of  yellow  satin,  a  loose  cassock  of  brocade,  a  rich 
Moorish  scimitar,  and  a  hat  with  plumes.  The  grandees  who 
attended  him  were  arrayed  with  wonderful  magnificence,  each 
according  to  his  taste  and  invention. 

These  high  and  mighty  princes  (says  Antonio  Agapida)  re 
gard  each  other  with  great  deference,  as  allied  sovereigns, 
rather  than  with  connubial  familiarity  as  mere  husband  and 
wife.  When  they  approached  each  other,  therefore,  before 
embracing,  they  made  three  profound  reverences;  the  queen 
taking  of?  her  hat,  and  remaining  in  a  silk  net  or  cawl,  with 
her  face  uncovered.  The  king  then  approached  and  embraced 
her,  and  kissed  her  respectfully  on  the  cheek.  He  also  em 
braced  his  daughter  the  princess ;  and,  making  the  sign  of  the 
cross,  he  blessed  her,  and  kissed  her  on  the  lips.* 

The  good  Agapida  seems  scarcely  to  have  been  more  struck 
wiin  tht,  appearance  of  the  sovereigns,  than  with  that  of  the 
EnglisL  earl.  He  followed  (says  he)  immediately  after  the 
king,  with  great  pomp,  and,  in  an  extraordinary  manner,  tak 
ing  precedence  of  all  the  rest.  He  was  mounted  "  a  la  guisa, " 
or  with  long  stirrups,  on  a  superb  chestnut  horse,  with  trap 
pings  of  azure  silk  which  reached  to  the  ground.  The  housings 
were  of  mulberry,  powdered  with  stars  of  gold.  He  was  armed 
in  proof,  and  wore  over  his  armor  a  short  French  mantle  of 
black  brocade;  he  had  a  white  French  hat  with  plumes,  and 
carried  on  his  left  arm  a  small  round  buckler,  banded  with  gold. 
Five  pages  attended  him,  apparelled  in  silk  and  brocade,  and 
mounted  on  horses  sumptuously  caparisoned;  he  had  also  a 
train  of  followers,  bravely  attired  after  the  fashion  of  his 
country. 

*  Cura  de  los  Palacios. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  171 

He  advanced  in  a  chivalrous  and  courteous  manner,  making 
his  reverences  first  to  the  queen  and  Infanta,  and  afterwards 
to  the  king.  Queen  Isabella  received  him  graciously,  compli 
menting  him  on  his  courageous  conduct  at  Loxa,  and  condoling 
with  him  on  the  loss  of  his  teeth.  The  earl,  however,  made 
light  of  his  disfiguring  wound ;  saying,  that ' '  our  blessed  Lord, 
who  had  built  all  that  house,  had  opened  a  window  there,  that 
he  might  see  more  readily  what  passed  within:"  *  whereupon 
the  worthy  Fray  Antonio  Agapida  is  more  than  ever  astonished 
at  the  pregnant  wit  of  this  island  cavalier.  The  earl  continued 
some  little  distance  by  the  side  of  the  royal  family,  compli 
menting  them  all  with  courteous  speeches,  his  horse  curvet 
ting  and  caracoling,  but  being  managed  with  great  grace  and 
dexterity ;  leaving  the  grandees  and  the  people  at  large,  not 
more  filled  with  admiration  at  the  strangeness  and  magnifi 
cence  oi%  his  state",  than  at  the  excellence  of  his  horseman 
ship.! 

To  testify  her  sense  of  the  gallantry  and  services  of  this 
noble  English  knight,  who  had  come  from  so  far  to  assist  in 
their  wars,  the  queen  sent  him  the  next  day  presents  of  twelve 
horses,  with  stately  tents,  fine  linen,  two  beds  with  coverings 
of  gold  brocade,  and  nrany  other  articles  of  great  value. 

Having  refreshed  himself,  as  it  were,  with  the  description  of 
this  progress  of  queen  Isabella  to  the  camp,  and  the  glorious 
pomp  of  the  Catholic  sovereigns,  the  worthy  Antonio  Agapida 
returns  with  renewed  relish  to  his  pious  work  of  discomfiting 
the  Moors. 

The  description  of  this  royal  pageant,  and  the  particulars 
concerning  the  English  earl,  thus  given  from  the  manuscript 
of  Fray  Antonio  Agapida,  agree  precisely  with  the  chronicle  of 
Andres  Bernaldes,  the  curate  of  los  Palacios.  The  English 
earl  makes  no  further  figure  in  this  war.  It  appears  from 
various  histories,  that  he  returned  in  the  course  of  the  year  to 
England.  In  the  following  year,  his  passion  for  fighting  took 
him  to  the  continent  at  the  head  of  four  hundred  adventurers, 
in  aid  of  Francis,  duke  of  Brittany,  against  Louis  XI.  of 
France.  He  was  killed  in  the  same  year  [1 18SJ  in  the  battle  of 
St.  Alban's,  between  the  Bretons  and  the  French. 

*  Pietro  Martyr,  Epist  61.  t  Cura  do  los  Palacios. 


172  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

HOW  KING  FERDINAND  ATTACKED  MOCLIN,  AND  OF  THE  STRANGE 
EVENTS  THAT  ATTENDED  ITS  CAPTURE. 

' '  THE  Catholic  sovereigns, "  says  Fray  Antonio  Agapida, 
' '  had  by  this  time  closely  clipped  the  right  wing  of  the  Moor 
ish  vulture."  In  other  words,  most  of  the  strong  fortresses 
along  the  western  f rontier  of  Granada  had  fallen  beneath  the 
Christian  artillery.  The  army  now  lay  encamped  before  the 
town  of  Moclin,  on  the  frontier  of  Jaen,  one  of  the  most  stub 
born  fortresses  of  the  border.  It  stood  on  a  high  rocky  hill, 
the  base  of  which  was  nearly  girdled  by  a  river :  a  thick  forest 
protected  the  back  part  of  the  town,  towards  the  mountain. 
Thus  strongly  situated,  it  domineered,  with  its  frowning 
battlements  and  massive  towers,  all  the  mountain  passes  into 
that  part  of  the  country,  and  was  called  "  the  shield  of  Grana 
da."  It  had  a  double  arrear  of  blood  to  settle  with  the  Chris 
tians  ;  two  hundred  years  before,  a  Master  of  Santiago  and  all 
his  cavaliers  had  been  lanced  by  the  Moors  before  its  gates. 
It  had  recently  made  terrible  slaughter  among  the  troops  of 
the  good  count  de  Cabra,  in  his  precipitate  attempt  to  entrap 
the  old  Moorish  monarch.  The  pride  of  Ferdinand  had  been 
piqued  by  being  obliged  on  that  occasion  to  recede  from  his 
plan,  and  abandon  his  concerted  attack  on  the  place ;  he  was 
now  prepared  to  take  a  full  revenge. 

El  Zagal,  the  old  warrior  king  of  Granada,  anticipating  a 
second  attempt,  had  provided  the  place  with  ample  ammuni 
tions  and  provisions;  had  ordered  trenches  to  be  digged,  and 
additional  bulwarks  thrown  up ;  and  caused  all  the  old  men, 
the  women,  and  the  children,  to  be  removed  to  the  capital. 

Such  was  the  strength  of  the  fortress,  and  the  difficulties  of 
ifs  position,  that  Ferdinand  anticipated  much  trouble  in  reduc 
ing  it,  and  made  every  preparation  for  a  regular  siege.  In  the 
centre  of  his  camp  were  two  great  mounds,  one  of  sacks  of 
flour,  the  other  of  grain,  which  \verc  called  the  royal  granary. 
Three  batteries  of  heavy  ordnance  were  opened  against  the 
citadel  and  principal  towers,  while  smaller  artillery,  engines 
for  the  discharge  of  missiles,  arquebiisses  and  cross-bows, 
were  distributed  in  various  places,  to  keep  up  a  fire  into 


THE  CONQUEST  Of   Oil  AN  AD  A.  173 

any  breaches  that  might  be  made,  and  upon  those  of  the 
garrison  who  should  appear  on  the  battlements. 

The  lombards  soon  made  an  impression  on  the  works, 
demolishing  a  part  of  the  wall,  and  tumbling  down  several 
of  those  haughty  towers,  which  from  their  height  had  been 
impregnable  before  the  invention  of  gunpowder.  The  Moors 
repaired  their  walls  as  well  as  they  were  able,  and,  still 
confiding  in  the  strength  of  their  situation,  kept  up  a  reso 
lute  defence,  firing  down  from  their  lofty  battlements  and 
towers  upon  the  Christian  camp.  For  two  nights  and  a  day 
an  incessant  fire  was  kept  up,  so  that  there  was  not  a  moment 
in  wlu'ch  the  roaring  of  ordnance  was  not  heard,  or  some 
damage  sustained  by  the  Christians  or  the  Moors.  It  was  a 
conflict,  however,  more  of  engineers  and  artillerists  than  of 
gallant  cavaliers;  there  was  no  sally  of  troops,  or  shock  of 
armed  men,  or  rush  and  charge  of  cavalry.  The  knights  stood 
looking  on  with  idle  weapons,  waiting  until  they  should  have 
an  opportunity  of  signalizing  their  prowess  by  scaling  the 
walls,  or  storming  the  breaches.  As  the  place,  however, 
was  assailable  only  in  one  part,  there  was  every  prospect 
of  a  long  and  obstinate  resistance. 

The  engineers,  as  usual,  discharged  not  merely  balls  of 
stone  and  iron,  to  demolish  the  walls,  but  flaming  balls  of 
inextinguishable  combustibles,  designed  to  set  fire  to  the 
houses.  One  of  these,  which  passed  high  through  the  air 
like  a  meteor,  sending  out  sparks  and  crackling  as  it  went, 
entered  the  window  of  a  tower  which  was  used  as  a  magazine 
of  gunpowder.  The  tower  blew  up,  with  a  tremendous  ex 
plosion  ;  the  Moors  who  were  upon  its  battlements  were  hurled 
into  the  air,  and  fell  mangled  in  various  parts  of  the  town; 
and  the  houses  in  its  vicinity  were  rent  and  overthrown  as 
with  an  earthquake. 

The  Moors,  who  had  never  witnessed  an  explosion  of  the 
kind,  ascribed  the  destruction  of  the  tower  to  a  miracle. 
Some  who  had  peen  the  descent  of  the  flaming  ball,  imagined 
that  fire  had  fallen  from  heaven  to  punish  them  for  their 
pertinacity.  The  pious  Agapida,  himself,  believes  that  this 
fiery  missive  was  conducted  by  divine  agency  to  confound 
the  infidels;  an  opinion  in  which  he  is  supported  by  other 
Catholic  historians.* 

Seeing  heaven  and  earth  as  it  were  combined  against  them, 

*  J'tilgar,    Garibay.    Lucio  Marino  Siculo,  Cosas  Memoral.  de  Hispan.  lib-  **). 


174  Tim   CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

the  Moors  lost  all  heart:  they  capitulated,  and  were  permitted 
to  depart  with  their  effects,  leaving  behind  all  arms  and  muni 
tions  of  war. 

The  Catholic  army  (says  Antonio  Agapida)  entered  Moclin  in 
solemn  state,  not  as  a  licentious  host,  intent  upon  plunder  and 
desolation,  but  as  a  band  of  Christian  warriors,  coming  to 
purify  and  regenerate  the  land.  The  standard  of  the  cross, 
that  ensign  of  this  holy  crusade,  was  borne  in  the  advance, 
followed  by  the  other  banners  of  the  army.  Then  came  the 
king  and  queen,  at  the  head  of  a  vast  number  of  armed 
cavaliers.  They  were  accompanied  by  a  band  of  priests  and 
friars,  with  the  choir  of  the  royal  chapel,  chanting  the  can 
ticle  "  Te  deum  laudamus"  As  they  were  moving  through 
the  streets  in  this  solemn  manner,  every  sound  hushed  except 
ing  the  anthem  of  the  choir,  they  suddenly  heard,  issuing  as 
it  were  from  under  ground,  a  chorus  of  voices  chanting  the 
solemn  response,  ' '  Benedictum  qui  venit  in  nomine  domini. "  * 
The  procession  paused  in  wonder.  The  sounds  arose  from 
Christian  captives,  and  among  them  several  priests,  who  were 
confined  in  subterraneous  dungeons. 

The  heart  of  Isabella  was  greatly  touched.  She  ordered  the 
captives  to  be  drawn  forth  from  their  cells,  and  was  still  more 
moved  at  beholding,  by  their  wan,  discolored,  and  emaciated 
appearance,  how  much  they  had  suffered.  Their  hair  and 
beards  were  overgrown  and  shagged;  they  were  wasted  by 
hunger,  half  naked,  and  in  chains.  She  ordered  that  they 
should  be  clothed  and  cherished,  and  money  furnished  them 
te  bear  them  to  their  homes,  t 

Several  of  the  captives  were  brave  cavaliers,  who  had  been 
wounded  and  made  prisoners,  in  the  defeat  of  the  count  de 
Cabra  by  El  Zagal,  in  the  preceding  year.  There  were  also 
found  other  melancholy  traces  of  that  disastrous  affair.  On 
visiting  the  narrow  pass  where  the  defeat  had  taken  place,  the 
remains  of  several  Christian  warriors  were  found  in  thickets, 
or  hidden  behind  rocks,  or  in  the  clefts  of  the  mountains. 
These  were  some  who  had  been  struck  from  their  horses,  and 
wounded  too  severely  to  fly.  They  had  crawled  away  from 
the  scene  of  action,  and  concealed  themselves  to  avoid  falling 
into  the  hands  of  the  enemy,  and  had  thus  perished  miserably 
and  alone.  The  remains  of  those  of  note  were  known  by  their 


*  Marino  Siculo. 

t  Illescas,  Hist.  Fontif.  lib.  5,  c.  20,  §  1. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  175 

armor  and  devices,  and  were  mourned  over  by  their  com 
panions  who  had  shared  the  disasters  of  that  day.* 

The  queen  had  these  remains  piously  collected,  as  the  relics 
of  so  many  martyrs  who  had  fallen  in  the  cause  of  the  faith. 
They  were  interred  with  great  solemnity  in  the  mosques  of 
Mocliii,  which  had  been  purified  and  consecrated  to  Christian 
worship.  "  There,"  says  Antonio  Agapida,  "rest  the  bones  of 
those  truly  Catholic  knights,  in  the  holy  ground  which  in  a 
manner  had  been  sanctified  by  their  blood ;  and  all  pilgrims 
passing  through  those  mountains  offer  up  prayers  and  masses 
for  the  repose  of  their  souls." 

The  queen  remained  for  some  time  at  Moclin,  administering 
comfort  to  the  wounded  and  the  prisoners,  bringing  the 
newly  acquired  territory  into  order,  and  founding  churches 
and  monasteries  and  other  pious  institutions.  "While  the 
king  marched  in  front,  laying  waste  the  land  of  the  Philis 
tines,"  says  the  figurative  Antonio  Agapida,  "queen  Isabella 
followed  his  traces  as  the  binder  follows  the  reaper,  gathering 
and  garnering  the  rich  harvest  that  has  fallen  beneath  his 
sickle.  In  this  she  was  greatly  assisted  by  the  counsels  of  that 
cloud  of  bishops,  friars,  and  other  saintly  men,  which  continu 
ally  surrounded  her,  garnering  the  first  fruits  of  this  infidel 
land  into  the  granaries  of  the  church."  Leaving  her  thus 
piously  employed,  the  king  pursued  his  career  of  conquest, 
determined  to  lay  waste  the  vega,  and  carry  fire  and  sword  to 
the  very  gates  of  Granada. 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

HOW  KING  FERDINAND  FORAGED  THE  VEGA;  AND  OF  THE  BAT 
TLE  OF  THE  BRIDGE  OF  PINOS,  AND  THE  FATE  OF  THE  TWO 
MOORISH  BROTHERS. 

MULEY  ABDALLAH  EL  ZAGAL  had  been  under  a  spell  of  ill 
fortune,  ever  since  the  suspicious  death  of  the  old  king,  his 
brother.  Success  had  deserted  his  standard;  and,  with  his 
fickle  subjects,  want  of  success  was  one  of  the  greatest  crimes 
in  a  sovereign.  He  found  his  popularity  declining,  and  he  lost 

*  Pi%ar,  part  3,  cap.  61, 


176  ™#  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

all  confidence  in  his  people.  The  Christian  army  marched  in 
open  defiance  through  his  territories,  and  sat  down  deliber 
ately  before  his  fortresses;  yet  he  dared  not  lead  forth  his 
legions  to  oppose  them,  lest  the  inhabitants  of  the  Albaycin, 
ever  ripe  for  a  revolt,  should  rise  and  shut  the  gates  of  Gra 
nada  against  his  return. 

Every  few  days,  some  melancholy  train  entered  the  metro 
polis,  the  inhabitants  of  some  captured  town,  bearing  the  few 
effects  that  had  been  spared  them,  and  weeping  and  bewailing 
the  desolation  of  their  homes.  When  the  tidings  arrived  that 
Illora  and  Moclin  had  fallen,  the  people  were  seized  with  con 
sternation.  "The  right  eye  c>f  Granada  is  extinguished,"  ex 
claimed  they;  "the  shield  of  Granada  is  broken:  what  shall 
protect  us  from  the  inroad  of  the  foe?"  When  the  survivors 
of  the  garrisons  of  those  towns  arrived,  with  downcast  looks, 
bearing  the  marks  of  battle,  and  destitute  of  arms  and  stan' 
dards,  the  populace  reviled  them  in  their  wrath;  but  they 
answered,  "  We  fought  as  long  as  we  had  force  to  fight,  or 
walls  to  shelter  us;  but  the  Christians  laid  our  towns  and 
battlements  in  ruins,  and  we  looked  in  vain  for  aid  from 
Granada." 

The  alcaydes  of  Illora  and  Moclin  were  brothers ;  they  were 
alike  in  prowess,  and  the  bravest  among  the  Moorish  cheva 
liers.  They  had  been  the  most  distinguished  in  all  tilts  and 
tourneys  which  graced  the  happier  days  of  Granada,  and 
had  distinguished  themselves  in  the  sterner  conflicts  of  the 
field.  Acclamation  had  always  followed  their  banners,  and 
they  had  long  been  the  delight  of  the  people.  Yet  now,  when 
they  returned  after  the  capture  of  their  fortresses,  they  were 
followed  by  the  unsteady  populace  with  execrations.  The 
hearts  of  the  alcaydes  swelled  with  indignation;  they  found 
the  ingratitude  of  their  countrymen  still  more  intolerable  than 
the  hostility  of  the  Christians. 

Tidings  came,  that  the  enemy  was  advancing  with  his  trium 
phant  legions  to  lay  waste  the  country  about  Granada.  Still 
El  Zagal  did  not  dare  to  take  the  field.  The  two  alcaydes  of 
Illora  and  Moclin  stood  before  him:  "  We  have  defended  your 
fortresses,"  said  they,  "until  we  were  almost  buried  under 
their  ruins,  and  for  our  reward  we  receive  scofSngs  and  revil- 
ings;  give  us,  O  king,  an  opportunity  where  knightly  valor 
may  signalize  itself,  not  shut  up  behind  stone  walls,  but  in  the 
open  conflict  of  the  field.  The  enemy  approaches  to  lay  our 
country  desolate ;  give  us  men  to  meet  him  in  the  advance, 


TITK  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  177 

and  let  sharne  light  upon  our  heads  if  we  be  found  wanting  in 
the  battle!" 

The  two  brothers  were  sent  forth,  with  a  large  force  of  horse 
and  foot;  El  Zagal  intended,  should  they  be  successful,  to 
issue  forth  with  his  whole  force,  and  by  a  decisive  victory, 
repair  the  losses  he  had  suffered.  When  the  people  saw  the 
well-known  standards  of  the  brothers  going  forth  to  battle, 
there  was  a  feeble  shout:  but  the  alcaydes  passed  on  with 
stern  countenances,  for  they  knew  the  same  voices  would 
curse  them  were  they  to  return  unfortunate.  They  cast  a 
farewell  look  upon  fair  Granada,  and  upon  the  beautiful  fields 
of  their  infancy,  as  if  for  these  they  were  willing  to  lay  down 
their  lives,  but  not  for  an  ungrateful  people. 

The  army  of  Ferdinand  had  arrived  within  two  leagues  of 
Granada,  at  the  Bridge  of  Pines,  a  pass  famous  in  the  wars  of 
the  Moors  and  Christians  for  many  a  bloody  conflict.  It  was 
the  pass  by  which  the  Castilian  monarchs  generally  made 
their  inroads,  and  was  capable  of  great  defence,  from  the  rug- 
gedness  of  the  country  and  the  difficulty  of  the  bridge.  The 
king,  with  the  main  body  of  the  army,  had  attained  the 
brow  of  a  hill,  when  they  beheld  the  advance  guard,  under 
the  marques  of  Cadiz  and  the  Master  of  Santiago,  furiously 
attacked  by  the  enemy,  in  the  vicinity  of  the  bridge.  The 
Moors  rushed  to  the  assault  with  their  usual  shouts,  but  with 
more  than  usual  ferocity.  There  was  a  hard  struggle  at  the 
bridge ;  both  parties  knew  the  importance  of  that  pass. 

The  king  particularly  noted  the  prowess  of  two  Moorish 
cavaliers,  alike  in  arms  and  devices,  and  whom  by  their  bear 
ing  and  attendance  he  perceived  to  be  commanders  of  the 
enemy.  They  were  the  two  brothers,  the  alcaydes  of  Illora 
and  Moclin.  Wherever  they  turned,  they  carried  confusion 
and  death  into  the  ranks  of  the  Christians ;  but  they  fought 
with  desperation,  rather  than  valor.  The  count  de  Cabra,  apd 
his  brother  Don  Martin  de  Cordova,  pressed  forward  wit> 
eagerness  against  them;  but  having  advanced  too  precipi 
tately,  were  surrounded  by  the  foe,  and  in  imminent  danger, 
A  young  Christian  knight,  seeing  their  peril,  hastened  with 
his  followers  to  their  relief.  The  king  recognized  him  for  Don 
Juan  de  Arragon,  count  of  Ribargoza,  his  own  nephew;  for  he 
was  illegitimate  son  of  the  duke  of  Villahermosa,  illegitimate 
brother  of  king  Ferdinand.  The  splendid  armor  of  Don  Juan, 
and  the  sumptuous  caparison  of  his  steed,  rendered  him  a  bril 
liant  object  of  attack.  He  was  assailed  on  all  sides,  and  his 


178  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

superb  steed  slain  under  him;  yet  still  he  fought  valiantly, 
bearing  for  a  time  the  brunt  of  the  fight,  and  giving  the  ex 
hausted  forces  of  the  count  de  Cabra  time  to  recover  breath. 

Seeing  the  peril  of  these  troops  and  the  general  obstinacy  of 
the  fight,  the  king  ordered  the  royal  standard  to  be  advanced, 
and  hastened,  with  all  his  forces,  to  the  relief  of  the  count  de 
Cabra.  At  his  approach,  the  enemy  gave  way,  and  retreated 
towards  the  bridge.  The  two  Moorish  commanders  endea 
vored  to  rally  their  troops,  and  animate  them  to  defend  this 
pass  to  the  utmost:  they  used  prayers,  remonstrances,  men 
aces—but  almost  in  vain.  They  could  only  collect  a  scanty 
handful  of  cavaliers;  with  these  they  planted  themselves  at 
the  head  of  the  bridge,  and  disputed  it  inch  by  inch.  The 
fight  was  hot  and  obstinate,  for  but  few  could  contend  hand 
to  hand,  yet  many  discharged  cross-bows  and  arquebusses 
from  the  banks.  The  river  was  covered  with  the  floating 
bodies  of  the  slain.  The  Moorish  band  of  cavaliers  was  almost 
entirely  cut  to  pieces;  the  two  brothers  fell,  covered  with 
wounds,  upon  the  bridge  they  had  so  resolutely  defended. 
They  had  given  up  the  battle  for  lost,  but  had  determined  not 
to  return  alive  to  ungrateful  Granada. 

When  the  people  of  the  capital  heard  how  devotedly  they 
had  fallen,  they  lamented  greatly  their  deaths,  and  extolled 
their  memory:  a  column  was  erected  to  their  honor  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  bridge,  which  long  went  by  the  name  of  utho 
Tomb  of  the  Brothers." 

The  army  of  .Ferdinand  now  marched  on,  and  established  its 
camp  in  the  vicinity  of  Granada.  The  worthy  Agapida  gives 
many  triumphant  details  of  the  ravages  committed  in  the 
vega,  which  was  again  laid  waste ;  the  grain,  fruits,  and  other 
productions  of  the  earth,  destroyed— and  that  earthly  paradise 
rendered  a  dreary  desert.  He  narrates  several  fierce  but  in 
effectual  sallies  and  skirmishes  of  the  Moors,  in  defence  of  their 
favorite  plain;  among  which,  one  deserves  to  be  mentioned,  a« 
it  records  the  achievements  of  one  of  the  saintly  heroos  of  this 
war. 

During  one  of  the  movements  of  the  Christian  army,  no.ii1 
the  walls  of  Granada,  a  battalion  of  fifteen  hundred  cavalry, 
and  a  largo  force  of  foot,  had  sallied  from  the  city,  and  posted 
themselves  near  some  gardens,  which  Avere  surrounded  by  a 
canal,  and  traversed  by  ditches,  for  the  purpose  of  irrigation. 

The  Moors  beheld  the  duke  del  Infantado  pass  by,  with  his 
two  splendid  battalions ;  one  of  men-at-arms,  the  other  of  light 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  179 

cavalry,  armed  a  la  gineta.  In  company  with  him,  but  follow 
ing  as  a  rear-guard,  was  Don  Garcia  Osorio,  the  belligerent 
bishop  of  Jaen,  attended  by  Francisco  Bovadillo,  the  corregidor 
of  his  city,  and  followed  by  two  squadrons  of  men-at-arms,  from 
Jaen,  Anduxar,  Ubeda,  and  Baeza.*  The  success  of  last  year's 
campaign  had  given  the  good  bishop  an  inclination  for  warlike 
affairs,  and  he  had  once  more  buckled  on  his  cuirass. 

The  Moors  were  much  given  to  stratagem  in  warfare.  They 
looked  wistfully  at  the  magnificent  squadrons  of  the  duke  del 
Infantado;  but  their  martial  discipline  precluded  all  attack: 
the  good  bishop  promised  to  be  a  more  easy  prey.  Suffering 
the  duke  and  his  troops  to  pass  unmolested,  they  approached 
the  squadrons  of  the  bishop,  and,  making  a  pretended  attack, 
skirmished  slightly,  and  fled  in  apparent  confusion.  The 
bishop  considered  the  day  his  own,  and,  seconded  by  his  cor 
regidor  Bovadillo,  followed  with  valorous  precipitation.  The 
Moors  fled  into  the  Huerta  del  Rey,  or  orchard  of  the  king ;  the 
troops  of  the  bishop  followed  hotly  after  them. 

When  the  Moors  perceived  their  pursuers  fairly  embarrassed 
among  the  intricacies  of  the  garden,  they  turned  fiercely  upon 
them,  while  some  of  their  number  threw  open  the  sluices  of  the 
Xenel.  In  an  instant,  the  canal  which  encircled  and  the 
ditches  which  traversed  the  garden,  were  filled  with  water, 
and  the  valiant  bishop  and  his  followers  found  themselves 
overwhelmed  by  a  deluge,  t  A  scene  of  great  confusion  suc 
ceeded.  Some  of  the  men  of  Jaen,  stoutest  of  heart  and  hand, 
fought  with  the  Moors  in  the  garden,  while  others  struggled 
with  the  water,  endeavoring  to  escape  across  the  canal,  in 
which  attempt  many  horses  were  drowned. 

Fortunately,  the  duke  del  Infantado  perceived  the  snare  into 
which  his  companions  had  fallen,  and  dispatched  his  light 
cavalry  to  their  assistance.  The  Moors  were  compelled  to 
flight,  and  driven  along  the  road  of  Elvira  up  to  the  gates  of 
Granada.  |  Several  Christian  cavaliers  perished  in  this  affray ; 
the  bishop  himself  escaped  with  difficulty,  having  slipped  from 
his  saddle  in  crossing  the  canal,  but  saving  himself  by  holding 
on  to  the  tail  of  his  charger.  This  perilous  achievement  seems 
to  have  satisfied  the  good  bishop's  belligerent  propensities.  He 
retired  on  his  laurels,  (says  Agapida,)  to  his  city  of  Jaen.- 
where,  in  the  fruition  of  all  good  things,  he  gradually  waxed 
too  corpulent  for  his  corselet,  which  was  hung  up  in  the  hall  of 

*  Pulgar.'part  3,  cap,  62.  t  Pulgar,  $  Pulgar, 


180  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GUANADA. 

his  episcopal  palace;  and  we  hear  no  more  of  lus  military 
deeds,  throughout  the  residue  of  the  holy  war  of  Granada.* 

King  Ferdinand,  having  completed  his  ravage  ot  she  vega, 
and  kept  El  Zagal  shut  up  in  his  capital,  conducted  his  army 
back  through  the  pass  of  Lope  to  rejoin  queen  Isabella  at 
Moclin.  The  fortresses  lately  taken  being  well  garrisoned  and 
supplied,  he  gave  the  command  of  the  frontier  to  his  cousin, 
Don  Fadrique  de  Toledo,  afterwards  so  famous  in  the  Nether 
lands  as  the  duke  of  Alva.  The  campaign  being  thus  com 
pletely  crowned  with  success,  the  sovereigns  returned  in  tri 
umph  to  the  city  of  Cordova. 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

ATTEMPT  OF  EL  ZAGAL  UPON  THE  LIFE  OF  BOABDIL,  AND  HOW 
THE  LATTER  WAS  ROUSED  TO  ACTON. 

No  sooner  did  the  last  squadron  of  Christian  cavalry  disap 
pear  behind  the  mountain  of  Elvira,  and  the  note  of  its  trum 
pets  die  away  upon  the  ear,  than  the  long-suppressed  wrath  of 
old  Muley  El  Zagal  burst  forth.  He  determined  no  longer  to 
be  half  a  king,  reigning  over  a  divided  kingdom,  in  a  divided 
capital;  but  to  exterminate,  by  any  means,  fair  or  foul,  his 
nephew  Boabdil  and  his  faction.  He  turned  furiously  upon 
those  whose  factious  conduct  had  deterred  him  from  sallying 
upon  the  foe;  some  he  punished  by  confiscations,  others  by 
banishment,  others  by  death.  Once  undisputed  monarch  of 
the  entire  kingdom,  he  trusted  to  his  military  skill  to  retrieve 
his  fortunes,  and  drive  the  Christians  over  the  frontier. 

Boabdil,  however,  had  again  retired  to  Velez  el  Blanco,  on 
the  confines  of  Murcia,  where  he  could  avail  himself,  in  case  of 
emergency,  of  any  assistance  or  protection  afforded  him  by  the 
policy  of  Ferdinand.  His  defeat  had  blighted  his  reviving  for 
tunes,  for  the  people  considered  him  as  inevitably  doomed  to 
misfortune.  Still,  while  he  lived,  El  Zagal  knew  he  would  be 
a  rallying  point  for  faction,  and  liable  at  any  moment  to  be 

*"Don  Luis  Osorio  fue  obispo  de  Jaen  desde  el  afio  del  483,  y  presidio  in  esta 
igrlesia  hasta  el  de  1496  in  que  murlo  en  Flandes,  a  donde  fue  acompafiando  a  la 
princesa  Dona  Juana,  esposadel  archiduque  Don  Felipe,  "—Espana 
M.  Risco,  torn,  41,  trot,  77,  cap,  4, 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  131 

elevated  into  power  by  the  capricious  multitude.  He  had 
recourse,  therefore,  to  the  most  perfidious  means  to  compass 
his  destruction.  He  sent  embassadors  to  him,  representing  the 
necessity  of  concord  for  the  salvation  of  the  kingdom,  and 
even  offering  to  resign  the  title  of  king,  and  to  become  subject 
to  his  sway,  on  receiving  some  estate  on  which  he  could  live  in 
tranquil  retirement.  But  while  the  embassadors  bore  these 
words  of  peace,  they  were  furnished  with  poisoned  herbs, 
which  they  were  to  administer  secretly  to  Boabdil ;  and  if  they 
failed  in  this  attempt,  they  had  pledged  themselves  to  dispatch 
him  openly,  while  engaged  in  conversation.  They  were  insti 
gated  to  this  treason  by  promises  of  great  reward,  and  by  as 
surances  from  the  alfaquis  that  Boabdil  was  an  apostate, 
whose  death  would  be  acceptable  to  Heaven. 

The  young  monarch  was  secretly  apprised  of  the  concerted 
treason,  and  refused  an  audience  to  the  embassadors.  He  de 
nounced  his  uncle  as  the  murderer  of  his  father  and  his  kin 
dred,  and  the  usurper  of  his  throne ;  and  vowed  never  to  relent 
in  hostility  to  him,  until  he  should  place  his  head  on  the  walls 
of  the  Alhambra. 

Open  war  again  broke  out  between  the  two  monarchs,  though 
feebly  carried  on,  in  consequence  of  their  mutual  embarrass 
ments.  Ferdinand  again  extended  his  assistance  to  Boabdil, 
ordering  the  commanders  of  his  fortresses  to  aid  him  in  all 
enterprises  against  his  uncle,  and  against  such  places  as  refused 
to  acknowledge  him  as  king ;  and  Don  Juan  de  Bonavides,  who 
commanded  in  Lorca,  even  made  inroads  in  his  name,  into 
the  territories  of  Almeria,  Baza,  and  Guadix,  which  owned 
allegiance  to  El  Zagal. 

The  unfortunate  Boabdil  had  three  great  evils  to  contend 
with— the  inconstancy  of  his  subjects,  the  hostility  of  his 
uncle,  and  the  friendship  of  Ferdinand.  The  last  was  by  far 
the  most  baneful:  his  fortunes  withered  under  it.  He  was 
looked  upon  as  the  enemy  of  his  faith  and  of  his  country.  The 
cities  shut  their  gates  against  him ;  the  people  cursed  him ;  even 
the  scanty  band  of  cavaliers,  who  had  hitherto  followed  his 
ill-starred  banner,  began  to  desert  him ;  for  he  had  not  where 
withal  to  reward,  or  even  to  support  them.  His  spirits  sunk 
with  his  fortune,  and  he  feared  that  in  a  little  time  he  should 
not  have  a  spot  of  earth  whereon  to  plant  his  standard,  nor  an 
adherent  to  rally  under  it. 

In  the  midst  of  his  despondency,  he  received  a  message  from 
his  lion-hearted  mother,  the  sultana  Ayxa  la  Horra.  "For 


182  THE  CONQUEST  OP  GHANADA. 

shame, "  said  she,  "to  linger  timorously  about  the  borders  of 
your  kingdom,  when  a  usurper  is  seated  in  your  capital.  Why 
look  abroad  for  perfidious  aid,  when  you  have  loyal  hearts 
beating  true  to  you  in  Granada  ?  The  Albaycin  is  ready  to 
throw  open  its  gates  to  receive  you.  Strike  home  vigorously 
—a  sudden  blow  may  mend  all,,  or  make  an  end.  A  throne  or 
a  grave ! — for  a  king,  there  is  no  honorable  medium. " 

Boabdil  was  of  an  undecided  character,  but  there  are  circum 
stances  which  bring  the  most  wavering  to  a  decision,  and  when 
once  resolved  they  are  apt  to  act  with  a  daring  impulse  un 
known  to  steadier  judgments.  The  message  of  the  sultana 
roused  him  from  a  dream.  Granada,  beautiful  Granada,  with 
its  stately  Alhambra,  its  delicious  gardens,  its  gushing  and 
limpid  fountains  sparkling  among  groves  of  orange,  citron, 
and  myrtle,  rose  before  him.  "What  have  I  done,"  exclaimed 
he,  ' '  that  I  should  be  an  exile  from  this  paradise  of  my  fore 
fathers — a  wanderer  and  fugitive  in  my  own  kingdom,  while  a 
murderous  usurper  sits  proudly  upon  my  throne  ?  Surely  Allah 
will  befriend  the  righteous  cause ;  one  blow,  and  all  may  be  my 
own." 

He  summoned  his  scanty  band  of  cavaliers.  ' '  Who  is  ready 
to  follow  his  monarch  unto  the  death  ?"  said  he :  and  every  one 
laid  his  hand  upon  his  scimitar.  "Enough!"  said  he;  "let 
each  man  arm  himself  and  prepare  his  steed  in  secret,  for  an 
enterprise  of  toil  and  peril :  if  we  succeed,  our  reward  is  em 
pire." 


[END  OF  VOL.  ONE.] 


A   CHRONICLE 

OP 

THE    CONQUEST   OF    GRANADA 


VOLUME   SECOND. 


CHAPTER  I. 

HOW  BOABDIL    RETURNED    SECRETLY  TO  GRANADA,    AND  HOW  HE 
WAS  RECEIVED. 

"IN  the  hand  of  God,"  exclaims  an  old  Arabian  chronicler, 
"is  the  destiny  of  princes;  he  alone  giveth  empire.  A  single 
Moorish  horseman,  mounted  on  a  fleet  Arabian  steed,  was  one 
day  traversing  the  mountains  which  extend  between  Granada 
and  the  frontier  of  Murcia.  He  galloped  swiftly  through  the 
valleys,  but  paused  and  looked  out  cautiously  from  the  summit 
of  every  height.  A  squadron  of  cavaliers  followed  warily  at 
a  distance.  There  were  fifty  lances.  The  richness  of  their 
armor  and  attire  showed  them  to  be  warriors  of  noble  rank, 
and  their  leader  had  a  lofty  and  prince-like  demeanor."  The 
squadron  thus  described  by  the  Arabian  chronicler,  was  the 
Moorish  king  Boabdil  and  his  devoted  followers. 

For  two  nights  and  a  day  they  pursued  their  adventurous 
journey,  avoiding  all  populous  parts  of  the  country,  and  choos 
ing  the  most  solitary  passes  of  the  mountains.  They  suffered 
severe  hardships  and  fatigues,  but  they  suffered  without  a 
murmur :  they  were  accustomed  to  rugged  campaigning,  and 
their  steeds  were  of  generous  and  unyielding  spirit.  It  was 
midnight,  and  all  was  dark  and  silent  as  they  descended  from 
the  mountains,  and  approached  the  city  of  Granada.  They 
passed  along  quietly  under  the  shadow  of  its  walls,  until  they 
arrived  near  the  gate  of  the  Albaycin.  Here  Boabdil  ordered 


184  TBB  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

his  followers  to  halt,  and  remained  concealed.  Taking  but  four 
or  five  with  him,  he  advanced  resolutely  to  the  gate,  and 
knocked  with  the  hilt  of  his  scimitar.  The  guards  demanded 
who  sought  to  enter  at  that  unseasonable  hour.  "  Your  king !" 
exclaimed  Boabdil,  "open  the  gate  and  admit  him!" 

The  guards  held  forth  a  light,  and  recognized  the  person  of 
the,  youthful  monarch.  They  were  struck  with  sudden  awe, 
and  threw  open  the  gates ;  and  Boabdil  and  his  followers  en 
tered  unmolested.  They  galloped  to  the  dwellings  of  the  prin 
cipal  inhabitants  of  the  Albaycin,  thundering  at  their  portals, 
and  summoning  them  to  rise  and  take  arms  for  their  rightful 
sovereign.  The  summons  was  instantly  obeyed:  trumpets  re 
sounded  throughout  the  streets — the  gleam  of  torches  and  the 
flash  of  arms  showed  the  Moors  hurrying  to  their  gathering 
places—  and  by  daybreak,  the  whole  force  of  the  Albaycin  was 
rallied  under  the  standard  of  Boabdil.  Such  was  the  success 
of  this  sudden  and  desperate  act  of  the  young  monarch ;  for 
we  are  assured  by  contemporary  historians,  that  there  had 
been  no  previous  concert  or  arrangement.  "As  the  guards 
opened  the  gates  of  the  city  to  admit  him,"  observes  a  pious 
chronicler,  "  so  God  opened  the  hearts  of  the  Moors  to  receive 
him  as  their  king."  * 

In  the  morning  early,  the  tidings  of  this  event  roused  El 
Zagal  from  his  slumbers  in  the  Alhambra.  The  fiery  old  war 
rior  assembled  his  guard  in  haste,  and  made  his  way  sword  in 
hand  to  the  Albaycin,  hoping  to  come  upon  his  nephew  by  sur 
prise.  He  was  vigorously  met  by  Boabdil  and  his  adherents, 
and  driven  back  into  the  quarter  of  the  Alhambra.  An  en 
counter  took  place  between  the  two  kings,  in  the  square  before 
the  principal  mosque ;  here  they  fought  hand  to  hand  with  im 
placable  fury,  as  though  it  had  been  agreed  to  decide  their 
competition  for  the  crown  by  single  combat.  In  the  tumult 
of  this  chance  medley  affray,  however,  they  were  separated, 
and  the  party  of  El  Zagal  was  ultimately  driven  from  the 
square. 

The  battle  raged  for  some  time  in  the  streets  and  places  of 
the  city,  but  finding  their  powers  of  mischief  cramped  within 
such  narrow  limits,  both  parties  sallied  forth  into  the  fields,  and 
fought  beneath  the  walls  until  evening.  Many  fell  on  both 
sides,  and  at  night  each  party  withdrew  into  its  quarter,  until 
the  morning  gave  them  light  to  renew  the  unnatural  conflict. 


Pulgar. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  185 

For  several  days,  the  two  grand  divisions  of  the  city  remained 
like  hostile  powers  arrayed  against  each  other.  The  party  of 
the  Alhambra  was  more  numerous  than  that  of  the  Albaycin, 
and  contained  most  of  the  nobility  and  chivalry ;  but  the  ad 
herents  of  Boabdil  were  men  hardened  and  strengthened  by 
labor  and  habitually  skilled  in  the  exercise  of  arms. 

The  Albaycin  underwent  a  kind  of  siege  by  the  forces  of  El 
Zagal ;  they  effected  breaches  in  the  walls,  and  made  repeated 
attempts  to  carry  it  sword  in  hand,  but  were  as  often  repulsed. 
The  troops  of  Boabdil,  on  the  other  hand,  made  frequent  sal 
lies  ;  and  in  the  conflicts  which  took  place,  the  hatred  of  the 
combatants  arose  to  such  a  pitch  of  fury,  that  no  quarter  was 
given  on  either  side. 

Boabdil  perceived  the  inferiority  of  his  force;  he  dreaded  also 
that  his  adherents,  being  for  the  most  part  tradesmen  and  arti 
sans,  would  become  impatient  of  this  interruption  of  their  gain 
ful  occupations,  and  disheartened  by  these  continual  scenes  of 
carnage.  He  sent  missives,  therefore,  in  all  haste,  to  Don  Fa- 
drique  de  Toledo,  who  commanded  the  Christian  forces  on  the 
frontier,  entreating  his  assistance. 

Don  Fadrique  had  received  instructions  from  the  politic  Fer 
dinand,  to  aid  the  youthful  monarch  in  all  his  contests  with  his 
uncle.  He  advanced,  therefore,  with  a  body  of  troops  near  to 
Granada,  but,  wary  lest  some  treachery  might  be  intended,  he 
stood  for  some  time  aloof,  watching  the  movements  of  the  par 
ties.  The  furious  and  sanguinary  nature  of  the  conflicts  which 
distracted  unhappy  Granada,  soon  convinced  him  that  there 
was  no  collusion  between  the  monarchs.  He  sent  Boabdil, 
therefore,  a  reinforcement  of  Christian  foot-soldiers  and  arque- 
busiers,  under  Fernan  Alvarez  de  Sotomayer,  alcayde  of  Colo- 
mera.  This  was  as  a  firebrand  thrown  in  to  light  up  anew  the 
flames  of  war  in  the  city,  which  remained  raging  between  the 
Moorish  inhabitants  for  the  space  of  fifty  days. 


CHAPTER  II. 

HOW  KING  FERDINAND  LAID  SIEGE  TO  VELEZ  MALAGA. 

HITHERTO,  the  events  of  this  renowned  war  have  been  little 
else  than  a  succession  of  brilliant  but  brief  exploits,  such  as 
/sudden  forays  and  wild  skirmishes,  among  the  mountains,  or 


186  THE  CONQUEST  OF  OR  AN  AD  A. 

the  surprisaJs  of  castles,  fortresses,  and  frontier  towns.  We 
approach  now  to  more  important  and  prolonged  operations,  in 
which  ancient  and  mighty  cities,  the  bulwarks  of  Granada, 
were  invested  by  powerful  armies,  subdued  by  slow  and  regu 
lar  sieges,  and  thus  the  capital  left  naked  and  alone. 

The  glorious  triumphs  of  the  Catholic  sovereigns  (says  Fray 
Antonio  Agapida)  had  resounded  throughout  the  east,  and 
filled  all  heathenesse  with  alarm.  The  Grand-Turk  Bajazet  II. 
and  his  deadly  foe,  the  grand  soldan  of  Egypt,  suspending  for 
»  time  their  bloody  feuds,  entered  into  a  league  to  protect  the 
religion  of  Mahomet  and  the  kingdom  of  Granada  from  the 
hostilities  of  the  Christians.  It  was  concerted  between  them, 
that  Bajazet  should  send  a  powerful  armada  against  the  island 
of  Sicily,  then  appertaining  to  the  Spanish  crown,  for  the  pur 
pose  of  distracting  the  attention  of  the  Castilian  sovereigns; 
while,  at  the  same  time,  great  bodies  of  troops  should  be 
poured  into  Granada,  from  the  opposite  coast  of  Africa. 

Ferdinand  and  Isabella  received  timely  intelligence  of  these 
designs.  They  resolved  at  once  to  carry  the  war  into  the  sea 
board  of  Granada,  to  possess  themselves  of  its  ports,  and  thus, 
as  it  were,  to  bar  the  gates  of  the  kingdom  against  all  external 
aid.  Malaga  was  to  be  the  main  object  of  attack :  it  was  the 
principal  seaport  of  the  kingdom,  and  almost  necessary  to  its 
existence.  It  had  long  been  the  seat  of  opulent  commerce, 
sending  many  ships  to  the  coasts  of  Syria  and  Egypt.  It  was 
also  the  great  channel  of  communication  with  Africa,  through 
which  were  introduced  supplies  of  money,  troops,  arms,  and 
steeds,  from  Tunis,  Tripoli,  Fez,  Tremezan,  and  other  Barbary 
powers.  It  was  emphatically  called,  therefore,  "the  hand  and 
mouth  of  Granada."  Before  laying  siege  to  this  redoubtable 
city,  however,  it  was  deemed  necessary  to  secure  the  neigh 
boring  city  of  Velez  Malaga  and  its  dependent  places,  which 
might  otherwise  harass  the  besieging  army. 

For  this  important  campaign,  the  nobles  of  the  kingdom  were 
again  summoned  to  take  the  field  with  their  forces,  in  the 
spring  of  1487.  The  menaced  invasion  of  the  infidel  powers  of 
the  east  had  awakened  new  ardor  in  the  bosoms  of  all  true 
Christian  knights ;  and  so  zealously  did  they  respond  to  the 
summons  of  the  sovereigns,  that  an  army  of  twenty  thousand 
cavalry  and  fifty  thousand  foot,  the  flower  of  Spanish  warriors, 
led  by  the  bravest  of  Spanish  cavaliers,  thronged  the  renowned 
city  of  Cordova,  at  the  appointed  time. 

On  the  night  before  this  mighty  host  set  forth  upon  its  marsu, 


THE   CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  187 

an  earthquake  shook  the  city.  The  inhabitants,  awakened  by 
the  shaking  of  the  walls  and  rocking  of  the  towers,  fled  to  the 
courts  and  squares,  fearing  to  be  overwhelmed  by  the  ruins  of 
their  dwellings.  The  earthquake  was  most  violent  in  the 
quarter  of  the  royal  residence,  the  site  of  the  ancient  palace  of 
the  Moorish  kings.  Many  looked  upon  this  as  an  omen  of  some 
impending  evil ;  but  Fray  Antonio  Agapida,  in  that  infallible 
spirit  of  divination  which  succeeds  an  event,  plainly  reads  in 
it  a  presage  that  the  entire  empire  of  the  Moors  was  about  to  be 
shaken  to  its  centre. 

It  was  on  Saturday,  the  eve  of  the  Sunday  of  Palms,  (says  a 
worthy  and  loyal  chronicler  of  the  time,)  that  the  most 
Catholic  monarch  departed  with  his  army,  to  render  service 
to  Heaven,  and  make  war  upon  the  Moors.*  Heavy  rains  had 
swelled  all  the  streams,  and  rendered  the  roads  deep  and  diffi 
cult.  The  king,  therefore,  divided  his  host  into  two  bodies. 
In  one  he  put  all  the  artillery,  guarded  by  a  strong  body  of 
horse,  and  commanded  by  the  Master  of  Alcantara  and  Martin 
Alonzo,  Senior  of  Montemayor.  This  division  was  to  proceed 
by  the  road  through  the  valleys,  where  pasturage  abounded 
for  the  oxen  which  drew  the  ordnance. 

The  main  body  of  the  army  was  led  by  the  king  in  person. 
It  was  divided  into  numerous  battalions,  each  commanded  by 
some  distinguished  cavalier.  The  king  took  the  rough  and 
perilous  road  of  the  mountains,  and  few  mountains  are  more 
rugged  and  difficult  than  those  of  Andalusia.  The  roads  are 
mere  mule-paths,  straggling  amidst  rocks  and  along  the  verge 
of  precipices,  clambering  vast  craggy  heights,  or  descending 
into  frightful  chasms  and  ravines,  with  scanty  and  uncertain 
foothold  for  either  man  or  steed.  Four  thousand  pioneers 
were  sent  in  advance,  under  the  alcayde  de  los  Donzeles,  to 
conquer,  in  some  degree,  the  asperities  of  the  road.  Some  had 
pickaxes  and  crowbars  to  break  the  rocks,  others  had  imple 
ments  to  construct  bridges  over  the  mountain  torrents,  while 
it  was  the  duty  of  others  to  lay  stepping-stones  in  the  smaller 
streams.  As  the  country  was  inhabited  by  fierce  Moorish 
mountaineers,  Don  Diego  de  Castrillo  was  dispatched,  with  a 
body  of  horse  and  foot,  to  take  possession  of  the  heights  and 
passes.  Notwithstanding  every  precaution,  the  royal  arnry 
suffered  excessively  on  its  march.  At  one  tiro»,  there  was  no 
place  to  encamp,  for  five  leagues  of  the  most  toilsome  and 

*  Pulgar.    Cronica  de  los 


18  THE  CONQUEST  OF 

mountainous  country ;  and  many  of  the  beasts  of  burden  sunk 
down,  and  perished  on  the  road. 

It  was  with  the  greatest  joy,  therefore,  that  the  royal  army 
emerged  from  these  stern  and  frightful  denies,  and  came  to 
where  they  looked  down  upon  the  vega  of  Velez  Malaga.  The 
region  before  them  was  one  of  the  most  delectable  to  the  eye 
that  ever  was  ravaged  by  an  army.  Sheltered  from  every 
rude  blast  by  a  screen  of  mountains,  and  sloping  and  expand 
ing  to  the  south,  this  lovely  valley  was  quickened  by  the  most 
generous  sunshine,  watered  by  the  silver  meanderings  of  the 
Velez,  and  refreshed  by  cooling  breezes  from  the  Mediter 
ranean.  The  sloping  hills  were  covered  with  vineyards  and 
olive-trees;  the  distant  fields  waved  with  grain,  or  were  ver 
dant  with  pasturage;  while  around  the  city  were  delightful 
gardens,  the  favorite  retreats  of  the  Moors,  where  their  white 
pavilions  gleamed  among  groves  of  oranges,  citrons,  and 
pomegranates,  and  were  surmounted  by  stately  palms— those 
plants  of  southern  growth,  bespeaking  a  generous  climate  and 
a  cloudless  sky. 

In  the  upper  part  of  this  delightful  valley,  the  city  of  Velez 
Malaga  reared  its  warrior  battlements  in  stern  contrast  to  the 
landscape.  It  was  built  on  the  declivity  of  a  steep  and  insu 
lated  hill,  and  strongly  fortified  by  wall  and  towers.  The 
crest  of  the  hill  rose  high  above  the  town,  into  a  mere  crag, 
inaccessible  on  every  other  side,  and  crowned  by  a  powerful 
castle,  which  domineered  over  the  surrounding  country.  Two 
suburbs  swept  down  into  the  valley,  from  the  skirts  of  the 
town,  and  were  defended  by  bulwarks  and  deep  ditches.  The 
vast  ranges  of  gray  mountains,  often  capped  with  clouds, 
which  rose  to  the  north,  were  inhabited  by  a  hardy  and  war 
like  race,  whose  strong  fortresses  of  Comares,  Camillas,  Com- 
peta,  and  Benemarhorga,  frowned  down  from  cragged  heights. 

At  the  time  that  the  Christian  host  arrived  in  sight  of  this 
valley,  a  squadron  was  hovering  on  the  smooth  sea  before  it, 
displaying  the  banner  of  Castile.  This  was  commanded  by 
the  count  of  Trevento,  and  consisted  of  four  armed  galleys, 
conveying  a  number  of  caravels,  laden  with  supplies  for  the 
army. 

After  surveying  the  ground,  king  Ferdinand  encamped  on 
the  side  of  a  mountain  which  advanced  close  to  the  city,  and 
which  was  the  last  of  a  rugged  sierra,  or  chain  of  heights,  that 
extended  quite  to  Granada.  On  the  summit  of  this  mountain, 
and  overlooking  the  camp,  was  a  Moorish  town?  powerfully 


Tllfi  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  189 

fortified,  called  Bcntomiz,  and  which,  from  its  vicinity,  had 
been  considered  capable  of  yielding  great  assistance  to  Velez 
Malaga.  Several  of  the  generals  remonstrated  with  the  king, 
for  choosing  a  post  so  exposed  to  assaults  from  the  moun 
taineers.  Ferdinand  replied,  that  he  should  thus  cut  off  all 
communication  between  the  town  and  the  city ;  and  that  as  to 
the  danger,  his  soldiers  must  keep  the  more  vigilant  guard 
against  surprise. 

King  Ferdinand  rode  forth,  attended  by  several  cavaliers 
and  a  small  number  of  cuirassiers,  appointing  the  various 
stations  of  the  camp.  While  a  body  of  foot-soldiers  were  tak 
ing  possession,  as  an  advanced  guard,  of  an  important  height 
which  overlooked  the  city,  the  king  retired  to  a  tent  to  take 
refreshment.  While  at  table,  he  was  startled  by  a  sudden 
uproar,  and,  looking  forth,  beheld  his  soldiers  flying  before  a 
superior  force  of  the  enemy.  The  king  had  on  no  other 
armor  but  a  cuirass;  seizing  a  lance,  however,  he  sprang 
upon  his  horse  and  galloped  to  protect  the  fugitives,  followed 
by  his  handful  of  knights  and  cuirassiers.  When  the  Spaniards 
saw  the  king  hastening  to  their  aid,  they  turned  upon  their 
pursuers.  Ferdinand,  in  his  eagerness,  threw  himself  into  the 
midst  of  the  foe.  One  of  his  grooms  was  killed  beside  him ; 
but,  before  the  Moor  who  slew  him  could  escape,  the  king 
transfixed  him  with  his  lance.  He  then  sought  to  draw  his 
sword,  which  hung  at  his  saddle-bow—but  in  vain.  Never 
had  he  been  exposed  to  such  peril ; — he  was  surrounded  by  the 
enemy,  without  a  weapon  wherewith  to  defend  himself. 

In  this  moment  of  awful  jeopardy,  the  marques  of  Cadiz, 
the  count  de  Cabra,  the  adelantado  of  Murcia,  with  two  other 
cavaliers,  named  Garcilasso  de  la  Vega  and  Diego  de  Atayde, 
came  galloping  to  the  scene  of  action,  and,  surrounding  the 
king,  made  a  loyal  rampart  of  their  bodies  against  the  assaults 
of  the  Moors.  The  horse  of  the  marques  was  pierced  by  an 
arrow,  and  that  worthy  cavalier  exposed  to  imminent  danger ; 
but,  with  the  aid  of  his  valorous  companions,  he  quickly  put 
the  enemy  to  flight,  and  pursued  them,  with  slaughter,  to  the 
very  gates  of  the  city. 

When  those  loyal  warriors  returned  from  the  pursuit,  they 
remonstrated  with  the  king  for  exposing  his  life  in  personal 
conflict,  seeing  that  he  had  so  many  valiant  captains  whose 
business  it  was  to  fight.  They  reminded  him  that  the  life  of  a 
prince  was  the  life  of  his  people,  and  that  many  a  brave  army 
was  lost  by  the  loss  of  its  commander.  They  entreated  hnja, 


100  Tim  CONQUEST  OP  GRANADA. 

therefore,  in  future,  to  protect  them  with  the  force  of  his  mind 
in  the  cabinet,  rather  than  of  his  arm  in  the  field. 

Ferdinand  acknowledged  the  wisdom  of  their  advice,  but 
declared  that  he  could  not  see  his  people  in  peril  without  ven 
turing  his  person  to  assist  them :— a  reply  (say  the  old  chroni 
clers)  which  delighted  the  whole  army,  inasmuch  as  they  saw 
that  he  not  only  governed  them  as  a  good  king,  but  protected 
them  as  a  valiant  captain.  Ferdinand,  however,  was  con 
scious  of  the  extreme  peril  to  which  he  had  been  exposed,  and 
made  a  vow  never  again  to  venture  into  battle  without  having 
his  sword  girt  to  his  side.* 

When  this  achievement  of  the  king  was  related  to  Isabella, 
she  trembled  amidst  her  joy  at  his  safety ;  and  afterwards,  in 
memorial  of  the  ^  event,  she  granted  to  Velez  Malaga,  as  the 
arms  of  the  city,  the  figure  of  the  king  on  horseback,  with  a 
groom  lying  dead  at  his  feet,  and  the  Moors  flying,  f 

The  camp  was  formed,  but  the  artillery  was  yet  on  the  road, 
advancing  with  infinite  labor,  at  the  rate  of  merely  a  league  a 
day ;  for  heavy  rains  had  converted  the  streams  of  the  valleys 
into  raging  torrents,  and  completely  broken  up  the  roads.  In 
the  mean  time,  king  Ferdinand  ordered  an  assault  on  the 
suburbs  of  the  city.  They  were  carried,  after  a  sanguinary 
conflict  of  six  hours,  in  which  many  Christian  cavaliers  were 
killed  and  wounded,  and,  among  the  latter,  Don  Alvaro  of 
Portugal,  son  of  the  duke  of  Braganza.  The  suburbs  were 
then  fortified  towards  the  city,  with  trenches  and  palisades, 
and  garrisoned  by  a  chosen  force,  under  Don  Fadrique  de 
Toledo.  Other  trenches  were  digged  round  the  city,  and  from 
the. suburbs  to  the  royal  camp,  so  as  to  cut  oft  all  communica 
tion  with  the  surrounding  country. 

Bodies  of  troops  were  also  sent  to  take  possession  of  the 
mountain  passes,  by  which  the  supplies  for  the  army  had  to 
be  brought.  The  mountains,  however,  were  so  steep  and 
rugged,  and  so  full  of  defiles  and  lurking-places,  that  the 
Moors  could  sally  forth  and  retreat  in  perfect  security;  fre 
quently  swooping  down  upon  Christian  convoys,  and  bearing 
off  both  booty  and  prisoners  to  their  strong-holds.  Some 
times  the  Moors  would  light  fires  at  night,  on  the  sides  of  the 
mountains,  which  would  be  Answered  by  fires  from  the  watch- 
towers  arid  fortresses.  By  these  signals,  they  would  concert 
assaults  upon  the  Christian  camp,  which,  in  consequence,  was 

*IH«:jas,  Hist.  Pontif.  lib.  6,  c.  20.    Wwhnar,  Hist  V«le7  Matega.  t  Idem. 


CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  191 

obliged  to  be  continually  on  the  alert,  and  ready  to  fly  to 
arms. 

King  Ferdinand  flattered  himself  that  the  manifestation  of 
his  force  had  struck  sufficient  terror  into  the  city,  and  that  by 
offers  of  clemency  it  might  be  induced  to  capitulate.  He  wrote 
a  letter,  therefore,  to  the  commanders,  promising,  in  case  of 
immediate  surrender,  that  all  the  inhabitants  should  be  per 
mitted  to  depart  with  their  effects ;  but  threatening  them  with 
fire  and  sword,  if  they  persisted  in  defence.  This  letter  was 
dispatched  by  a  cavalier  named  Carvagal,  who,  putting  it  on 
the  end  of  a  lance,  gave  it  to  the  Moors  who  were  on  the  walls 
of  the  city.  The  commanders  replied,  that  the  king  was  too 
noble  and  magnanimous  to  put  such  a  threat  in  execution,  and 
that  they  should  not  surrender,  as  they  knew  the  artillery 
could  not  be  brought  to  the  camp,  and  they  were  promised 
succor  by  the  king  of  Granada. 

At  the  same  time  that  he  received  this  reply,  the  king  learnt 
that  at  the  strong  town  of  Comares,  upon  a  height  about  two 
leagues  distant  from  the  camp,  a  large  number  of  warriors  had 
assembled  from  the  Axarquia,  the  same  mountains  in  which 
the  Christian  cavaliers  had  been  massacred  in  the  beginning  of 
the  war;  others  were  daily  expected,  for  this  rugged  sierra 
was  capable  of  furnishing  fifteen  thousand  fighting  men. 

King  Ferdinand  felt  that  his  army,  thus  disjointed,  and 
inclosed  in  an  enemy's  country,  was  in  a  perilous  situation, 
and  that  the  utmost  discipline  and  vigilance  were  necessary. 
He  put  the  camp  under  the  strictest  regulations,  forbidding  all 
gaming,  blasphemy,  or  brawl,  and  expelling  all  loose  women 
and  their  attendant  bully  ruffians,  the  usual  fomenters  of  riot 
and  contention  among  soldiery.  He  ordered  that  none  should 
sally  forth  to  skirmish,  without  permission  from  their  com 
manders  ;  that  none  should  set  fire  to  the  woods  on  the  neigh 
boring  mountains;  and  that  all  word  of  security  given  to 
Moorish  places  or  individuals,  should  be  inviolably  observed. 
These  regulations  were  enforced  by  severe  penalties,  and  had 
such  salutary  effect,  that,  though  a  vast  host  of  various  people 
was  collected  together,  not  an  opprobrious  epithet  was  heard, 
nor  a  weapon  drawn  in  quarrel. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  cloud  of  war  went  on,  gathering  about 
the  summits  of  the  mountains ;  multitudes  of  the  fierce  war 
riors  of  the  sierra  descended  to  the  lower  heights  of  Bentomiz, 
which  overhung  the  camp,  intending  to  force  their  way  to  the 
city.  A  detachment  was  sent  against  them,  which,  after  sharp 


192  TUfi  CONQVEST  OF  GltAXADA. 

fighting,  drove  them  to  the  higher  cliffs  of  the  mountain, 
where  it  was  impossible  to  pursue  them. 

Ten  days  had  elapsed  since  the  encampment  of  the  army, 
yet  still  the  artillery  had  not  arrived.  The  lombards  and 
other  heavy  ordnance  were  left  in  despair,  at  Antiquera ;  the 
rest  came  groaning  slowly  through  the  narrow  valleys,  which 
were  filled  with  long  trains  of  artillery,  and  cars  laden  with 
munitions.  At  length  part  of  the  smaller  ordnance  arrived 
within  half  a  league  of  the  camp,  and  the  Christians  were 
animated  with  the  hopes  of  soon  being  able  to  make  a  regular 
attack  upon  the  fortifications  of  the  city. 


CHAPTER  III. 

HOW  KING   FERDINAND  AND  HIS  ARMY  WERE  EXPOSED  TO 
IMMINENT  PERIL  BEFORE  VELEZ  MALAGA. 

WHILE  the  standard  of  the  cross  waved  on  the  hills  before 
Velez  Malaga,  and  every  height  and  cliff  bristled  with  hostile 
arms,  the  civil  war  between  the  factions  of  the  Alhambra  and 
the  Albaycin,  or  rather  between  El  Zagal  and  El  Chico,  con 
tinued  to  convulse  the  city  of  Granada.  The  tidings  of  the 
investment  of  Velez  Malaga  at  length  roused  the  attention  of 
the  old  men  and  the  alfaquis,  whose  heads  were  not  heated  by 
the  daily  broils.  They  spread  themselves  through  the  city,  and 
endeavored  to  arouse  the  people  to  a  sense  of  their  common 
danger. 

"  Why,"  said  they,  "continue  these  brawls  between  brethren 
and  kindred?  what  battles  are  these,  where  even  triumph  is 
ignominious,  and  the  victor  blushes  and  conceals  his  scars? 
Behold  the  Christians  ravaging  the  land  won  by  the  valor  and 
blood  of  your  forefathers;  dwelling  in  the  houses  they  have 
built,  sitting  under  the  trees  they  have  planted,  while  your 
brethren  wander  about,  houseless  and  desolate.  Do  you  wish 
to  seek  your  real  foe? — he  is  encamped  on  the  mountain  of 
Bentomiz.  Do  you  want  a  field  for  the  display  of  your  valor? 
— you  will  find  it  before  the  walls  of  Velez  Malaga. " 

When  they  had  roused  the  spirit  of  the  people,  they  made 
their  way  to  the  rival  kings,  and  addressed  them  with  like 
remonstrances.  Hamet  Aben  Zarrax,  the  inspired  santon, 
reproached  El  Zagal  with  his  blind  and  senseless  ambition; 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  193 

"You  are  striving  to  be  king,"  said  he,  bitterly,  "yet  suffer 
the  kingdom  to  be  lost !" 

El  Zagal  found  himself  in  a  perplexing  dilemma.  He  had  a 
double  war  to  wage,— with  the  enemy  without,  and  the  enemy 
within.  Should  the  Christians  gain  possession  of  the  sea-coast, 
it  would  be  ruinous  to  the  kingdom ;  should  he  leave  Granada 
to  oppose  them,  his  vacant  throne  might  be  seized  on  by  his 
nephew.  He  made  a  merit  of  necessity,  and,  pretending  to 
yield  to  the  remonstrances  of  the  alfaquis,  endeavored  to  com 
promise  with  Boabdil.  He  expressed  deep  concern  at  the  daily 
losses  of  the  country,  caused  by  the  dissensions  of  the  capital ; 
an  opportunity  now  presented  to  retrieve  all  by  a  blow.  The 
Christians  had  in  a  manner  put  themselves  in  a  tomb  between 
the  mountains— nothing  remained  but  to  throw  the  earth  upon 
them.  He  offered  to  resign  the  title  of  king,  to  submit  to  the 
government  of  his  nephew,  and  fight  under  his  standard ;  all 
he  desired  was  to  hasten  to  the  relief  of  Velez  Malaga,  and  to 
take  full  vengeance  on  the  Christians. 

Boabdil  spurned  his  proposition,  as  the  artifice  of  a  hypo 
crite  and  a  traitor.  "How  shall  I  trust  a  man,"  said  he, 
"  who  has  murdered  my  father  and  my  kindred  by  treachery, 
and  has  repeatedly  sought  my  own  life,  both  by  violence  and 
stratagem?" 

El  Zagal  boiled  with  rage  and  vexation— but  there  was  no 
time  to  be  lost.  He  was  beset  by  the  alfaquis  and  the  nobles 
of  his  court;  the  youthful  cavaliers  were  hot  for  action,  the 
common  people  loud  in  their  complaints  that  the  richest  cities 
were  abandoned  to  the  mercy  of  the  enemy.  The  old  warrior 
was  naturally  fond  of  fighting;  he  saw  also  that  to  remain 
inactive  would  endanger  both  crown  and  kingdom,  whereas  a 
successful  blow  would  secure  his  popularity  in  Granada.  He 
had  a  much  more  powerful  force  than  his  nephew,  having 
lately  received  reinforcements  from  Baza,  Guadix,  and  Alme- 
ria ;  he  could  march  with  a  large  force,  therefore,  to  the  relief 
of  Velez  Malaga,  and  yet  leave  a  strong  garrison  in  the  Alham- 
bra.  He  took  his  measures  accordingly,  and  departed  sudden 
ly  in  the  night,  at  the  head  of  one  thousand  horse  and  twenty 
thousand  foot.  He  took  the  most  unfrequented  roads,  along 
the  chain  of  mountains  extending  from  Granada  to  the  height 
of  Bentomiz,  and  proceeded  with  "such  rapidity  as  to  arrive 
there  before  king  Ferdinand  had  notice  of  his  approach. 

The  Christians  were  alarmed  one  evening  by  the  sudden 
blazing  of  great  fires  on  the  mountains  about  the  fortress  of 


194  THE  CONQUEST  OF  QRANADA. 

Bentomiz.  By  the  ruddy  light,  they  beheld  the  flash  of  wea 
pons  and  the  array  of  troops,  and  they  heard  the  distant  sound 
of  Moorish  drums  and  trumpets.  The  fires  of  Bentomiz  were 
answered  by  fires  on  the  towers  of  Velez  Malaga.  The  shouts 
of  "El  Zagal!  El  Zagal!"  echoed  along  the  cliffs,  and  re 
sounded  from  the  city ;  and  the  Christians  found  that  the  old 
warrior  king  of  Granada  was  on  the  mountain  above  their 
camp. 

The  spirits  of  the  Moors  were  suddenly  raised  to  a  pitch  of 
the  greatest  exultation,  while  the  Christians  were  astonished 
to  see  this  storm  of  war  ready  to  burst  upon  their  heads.  The 
count  de  Cabra,  with  his  accustomed  eagerness  when  there  was 
a  king  in  the  field,  would  fain  have  scaled  the  heights,  and 
attacked  El  Zagel  before  he  had  time  to  form  his  camp ;  but 
Ferdinand,  who  was  more  cool  and  wary,  restrained  him.  To 
attack  the  height,  would  be  to  abandon  the  siege.  He  ordered 
every  one,  therefore,  to  keep  vigilant  watch  at  his  post,  and  to 
stand  ready  to  defend  it  to  the  utmost,  but  on  no  account  to 
sally  forth  and  attack  the  enemy. 

All  night  the  signal-fires  kept  blazing  along  the  mountains, 
rousing  and  animating  the  whole  country.  The  morning  sun 
rose  over  the  lofty  summit  of  Bentomiz  on  a  scene  of  martial 
splendor.  As  its  rays  glanced  down  the  mountain,  they  lighted 
up  the  white  tents  of  the  Christian  cavaliers,  cresting  its  lower 
prominences,  their  pennons  and  ensigns  fluttering  in  the  morn 
ing  breeze.  The  sumptuous  pavilions  of  the  king,  with  the 
holy  standard  of  the  cross  and  the  royal  banners  of  Castile  and 
Arragon,  dominated  the  encampment.  Beyond  lay  the  city, 
its  lofty  castle  and  numerous  towers  glistening  with  arms; 
while  above  all,  and  just  on  the  profile  of  the  height,  in  the  full 
blaze  of  the  rising  sun,  were  descried  the  tents  of  the  Moor,  his 
turbaned  troops  clustering  about  them,  and  his  infidel  banners 
floating  against  the  sky.  Columns  of  smoke  rose  where  the 
night-fires  had  blazed,  and  the  clash  of  the  Moorish  cymbal, 
the  bray  of  trumpet,  and  the  neigh  of  steed,  were  faintly  heard 
from  the  airy  heights.  So  pure  and  transparent  is  the  atmos 
phere  in  this  region,  that  every  object  can  be  distinctly  seen 
at  a  great  distance ;  and  the  Christians  were  able  to  behold  the 
formidable  hosts  of  foes  that  were  gathering  on  the  summits 
of  the  surrounding  mountains. 

One  of  the  first  measures  of  the  Moorish  king,  was  to  detach 
a  large  force,  under  Rodovan  de  Vanegas,  alcayde  of  Granada, 
to  fall  upon  the  convoy  of  ordnance,  which  stretched,  for  a 


TllK  CONQUKST  OF  GRANADA.  195 

great  distance,  through  the  mountain  defiles.  Ferdinand  had 
anticipated  this  attempt,  and  sent  the  commander  of  Leon, 
with  a  body  of  horse  and  foot,  to  reinforce  the  Master  of 
Alcantara.  El  Zagal,  from  his  mountain  height,  beheld  the 
detachment  issue  from  the  camp,  and  immediately  recalled 
Eodovan  de  Vanegas.  The  armies  now  remained  quiet  for  a 
time,  the  Moor  looking  grimly  down  upon  the  Christian  camp, 
like  a  tiger  meditating  a  bound  upon  his  prey.  The  Christians 
were  in  fearful  jeapordy— a  hostile  city  below  them,  a  power 
ful  army  above  them,  and  on  every  side  mountains  filled  with 
implacable  foes. 

After  El  Zagal  had  maturely  considered  the  situation  of  the 
Christian  camp,  and  informed  himself  of  all  the  passes  of  the 
mountain,  he  conceived  a  plan  to  surprise  the  enemy,  which  he 
flattered  himself  would  insure  their  ruin,  and  perhaps  the  cap 
ture  of  king  Ferdinand.  He  wrote  a  letter  to  the  alcayde  of 
the  city,  commanding  him,  in  the  dead  of  the  night,  on  a  sig 
nal-fire  being  made  from  the  mountain,  to  sally  forth  with  all 
his  troops,  and  fall  furiously  upon  the  Christian  camp.  The 
king  would,  at  the  same  time,  rush  down  with  his  army  from 
the  mountain,  and  assail  it  at  the  opposite  side;  thus  over 
whelming  it,  at  the  hour  of  deep  repose.  This  letter  he  dis 
patched  by  a  renegado  Christian,  who  knew  all  the  secret 
roads  of  the  country,  and,  if  taken,  could  pass  himself  for  a 
Christian  who  had  escaped  from  captivity. 

The  fierce  El  Zagal,  confident  in  his  stratagem,  looked  down 
upon  the  Christians  as  his  devoted  victims.  As  the  sun  went 
down,  and  the  long  shadows  of  the  mountains  stretched  across 
the  vega,  he  pointed  with  exultation  to  the  camp  below,  appar 
ently  unconscious  of  the  impending  danger.  ' '  Allah  Achbar !" 
exclaimed  he,  "God  is  great!  Behold,  the  unbelievers  are 
delivered  into  our  hands ;  their  king  and  choicest  chivalry  will 
soon  be  at  our  mercy.  Now  is  the  time  to  show  the  courage 
of  men,  and,  by  one  glorious  victory,  retrieve  all  that  we  have 
lost.  Happy  he  who  falls  fighting  in  the  cause  of  the  Prophet! 
he  will  at  once  be  transported  to  the  paradise  of  the  faith 
ful,  and  surrounded  by  immortal  houris.  Happy  he  who 
shall  survive  victorious !  He  will  behold  Granada,— an  earthly 
paradise! -once  more  delivered  from  its  foes,  and  restored  to 
all  its  glory."  The  words  of  El  Zagal  were  received  with  ac 
clamations  by  his  troops,  who  waited  impatiently  for  the  ap 
pointed  hour,  to  pour  down  from  their  mountain-hold  upon 
the  Christians. 


196  TUE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

RESULT     OF    THE    STRATAGEM    OF    EL    ZAGAL    TO    SURPRISE    KING 

FERDINAND. 

QUEEN  ISABELLA  and  her  court  had  remained  at  Cordova,  in 
great  anxiety  for  the  result  of  the  royal  expedition.  Every 
day  brought  tidings  of  the  difficulties  which  attended  the 
transportation  of  the  ordnance  and  munitions,  and  of  the 
critical  state  of  the  army. 

While  in  this  state  of  anxious  suspense,  couriers  arrived 
with  all  speed  from  the  frontiers,  bringing  tidings  of  the  sud 
den  sally  of  El  Zagal  from  Granada,  to  surprise  the  camp. 
All  Cordova  was  in  consternation.  The  destruction  of  the 
Andalusian  chivalry,  among  the  mountains  of  this  very  neigh 
borhood,  was  called  to  mind ;  it  was  feared  that  similar  ruin 
was  about  to  burst  forth,  from  rocks  and  precipices,  upon 
Ferdinand  and  his  army. 

Queen  Isabella  shared  in  the  public  alarm,  but  it  served  to 
rouse  all  the  energies  of  her  heroic  mind.  Instead  of  uttering 
idle  apprehensions,  she  sought  only  how  to  avert  the  danger. 
She  called  upon  all  the  men  of  Andalusia,  under  the  age  of 
seventy,  to  arm  and  hasten  to  the  relief  of  their  sovereign; 
and  she  prepared  to  set  out  with  the  first  levies.  The  grand 
cardinal  of  Spain,  old  Pedro  Gonzalez  de  Mendoza,  in  whom 
the  piety  of  the  saint  and  the  wisdom  of  the  counsellor  were 
mingled  with  the  fire  of  the  cavalier,  offered  high  pay  to  all 
horsemen  who  would  follow  him  to  aid  their  king  and  the 
Christian  cause;  and,  buckling  on  armor,  prepared  to  lead 
them  to  the  scene  of  danger. 

The  summons  of  the  queen  roused  the  quick  Andalusian 
spirit.  Warriors  who  had  long  since  given  up  fighting,  and 
had  sent  their  sons  to  battle,  now  seized  the  sword  and  lance 
that  were  rusting  on  the  wall,  and  marshalled  forth  thoir 
gray-headed  domestics  and  their  grandchildren  for  the  field. 
The  great  dread  was,  that  all  aid  would  arrive  too  late:  El 
Zagal  and  his  host  had  passed  like  a  storm  through  the  moun 
tains,  and  it  was  feared  the  tempest  had  already  burst  upon 
the  Christian  camp. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  night  had  closed  which  had  been 
appointed  by  El  Zagal  for  the  execution  of  his  plan.  He  had 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  197 

watched  the  last  light  of  day  expire,  and  all  the  Spanish  camp 
remained  tranquil.  As  the  hours  wore  away,  the  camp-fires 
were  gradually  extinguished.  No  drum  or  trumpet  sounded 
from  below.  Nothing  was  heard,  but  now  and  then  the  dull 
heavy  tread  of  troops,  or  the  echoing  tramp  of  horses— the 
usual  patrols  of  the  camp,  and  the  changes  of  the  guards.  El 
2agal  restrained  his  own  impatience,  and  that  of  his  troops, 
until  the  night  should  be  advanced,  and  the  camp  sunk  in  that 
heavy  sleep  from  which  men  are  with  difficulty  awakened; 
and,  when  awakened,  so  prone  to  be  bewildered  and  dismayed. 

At  length,  the  appointed  hour  arrived.  By  order  of  the 
Moorish  king,  a  bright  flame  sprung  up  from  the  height  of 
Bentomiz;  but  El  Zagal  looked  in  vain  for  the  responding 
light  from  the  city.  His  impatience  would  brook  no  longer 
delay;  he  ordered  the  advance  of  the  army  to  descend  the 
mountain  defile  and  attack  the  camp.  The  defile  was  narrow, 
and  overhung  by  rocks:  as  the  troops  proceeded,  they  came 
suddenly,  in  a  shadowy  hollow,  upon  a  dark  mass  of  Christian 
warriors.  A  loud  shout  burst  forth,  and  the  Christians  rushed 
to  assail  them;  the  Moors,  surprised  and  disconcerted,  re 
treated  in  confusion  to  the  height.  When  El  Zagal  heard 
there  was  a  Christian  force  posted  in  the  defile,  he  doubted 
some  counter-plan  cf  the  enemy.  He  gave  orders  to  light  the 
mountain  fires.  On  a  signal  given,  bright  flames  sprung  out 
on  every  height,  from  great  pyres  of  wood,  prepared  for  the 
purpose :  cliff  blazed  out  after  cliff,  until  the  whole  atmosphere 
was  in  a  glow  of  furnace  light.  The  ruddy  glare  lit  up  the 
glens  and  passes  of  the  mountain,  and  fell  strongly  upon  the 
Christian  camp,  revealing  all  its  tents  and  every  post  and  bul 
wark.  Wherever  El  Zagal  turned  his  eyes,  he  beheld  the  light 
of  his  fires  flashed  back  from  cuirass,  and  helm,  and  sparkling 
lance ;  he  beheld  a  grove  of  spears  planted  in  every  pass,  every 
assailable  point  bristling  with  arms,  and  squadrons  of  horse 
and  foot  in  battle  array,  awaiting  his  attack. 

In  fact,  the  letter  of  El  Zagal  to  the  alcayde  of  Velez  Malaga 
iiad  been  intercepted  by  the  vigilant  Ferdinand ;  the  renegado 
messenger  hanged ;  and  secret  measures  taken,  after  the  night 
had  closed  in,  to  give  the  enemy  a  warm  reception.  El  Zagal 
saw  that  his  plan  of  surprise  was  discovered  and  foiled; 
furious  with  disappointment,  he  ordered  his  troops  forward  to 
the  attack.  They  rushed  down  the  defile,  but  were  again  en 
countered  by  the  mass  of  Christian  warriors,  being  the  advance 
guard  of  the  army,  commanded  by  Don  Hurtado  de  Mendoza, 


198  277#   CO^qUi-^T  Ob'  UlUX ABA. 

brother  of  the  grand  cardinal.  The  Moors  were  again  re 
pulsed,  and  retreated  up  the  height.  Don  Hurtado  would 
have  followed  them,  but  the  ascent  was  steep  and  rugged,  and 
easily  defended  by  the  Moors.  A  sharp  action  was  kept  up, 
through  the  night,  with  cross-bows,  darts,  and  arquebuses. 
The  cliffs  echoed  with  deafening  uproar,  while  the  fires  blazing 
upon  the  mountains  threw  a  lurid  and  uncertain  light  upon 
the  scene. 

When  the  day  dawned,  and  the  Moors  saw  that  there  was 
no  co-operation  from  the  city,  they  began  to  slacken  in  their 
ardor:  they  beheld  also  every  pass  of  the  mountain  filled  with 
Christian  troops,  and  began  to  apprehend  an  assault  in  return. 
Just  then  king  Ferdinand  sent  the  marques  of  Cadiz,  with 
horse  and  foot,  to  seize  upon  a  height  occupied  by  a  battalion 
of  the  enemy.  The  marques  assailed  the  Moors  with  his  usual 
intrepidity,  and  soon  put  them  to  flight.  The  others,  who 
were  above,  seeing  their  comrades  flying,  were  seized  with  a 
sudden  alarm:  they  threw  down  their  arms,  and  retreated. 
One  of  those  unaccountable  panics,  which  now  and  then  seize 
upon  great  bodies  of  people,  and  to  which  the  light-spirited 
Moors  were  very  prone,  now  spread  throughout  the  camp. 
They  were  terrified,  they  knew  not  why,  or  at  what.  They 
threw  away  swords,  lances,  breast- plates,  cross-bows,  every 
thing  that  could  burthen  or  impede  their  flight ;  and,  spread 
ing  themselves  wildly  over  the  mountains,  fled  headlong  down 
the  defiles.  They  fled  without  pursuers— from  the  glimpse  of 
each  other's  arms,  from  the  sound  of  each  other's  footsteps. 
Rodovan  de  Vanegas,  the  brave  alcayde  of  Granada,  alone 
succeeded  in  collecting  a  body  of  the  fugitives;  he  made  n 
circuit  with  them  through  the  passes  of  the  mountain,  and 
forcing  his  way  across  a  weak  part  of  the  Christian  lines, 
galloped  towards  Velez  Malaga.  The  rest  of  tne  Moorish  hop  t 
was  completely  scattered.  In  vain  diet  El  Zagal  and  his 
knights  attempt  to  rally  them;  they  were  leit  almost  alone, 
and  had  to  consult  their  own  security  by  flight. 

The  marques  of  Cadiz,  finding  no  opposition,  ascended  from 
height  to  height,  cautiously  reconnoitring,  and  fearful  of 
some  stratagem  or  ambush.  All,  however,  was  quiet.  He 
reached  with  his  men  the  place  which  the  Moorish  army 
had  occupied :  the  heights  were  abandoned,  and  shewed  with 
cuirasses,  scimitars,  cross-bows,  and  other  weapons.  His  force 
was  too  small  to  pursue  the  enemy,  but  returned  w?  the  royoJ 
camp  laden  with  the  spoils, 


THE  vox  QUEST  OF  UUANADA.  199 

King  Ferdinand,  at  first,  could  not  credit  so  signal  and  mi 
raculous  a  defeat :  he  suspected  some  lurking  stratagem.  He 
ordered,  therefore,  that  a  strict  watch  should  be  maintained 
throughout  the  camp,  and  every  one  be  ready  for  instant 
action.  The  following  night,  a  thousand  cavaliers  and  hidal 
gos  kept  guard  about  the  royal  tent,  as  they  had  done  for  sev 
eral  preceding  nights;  nor  did  the  king  relax  this  vigilance, 
until  he  received  certain  intelligence  that  the  enemy  was  com 
pletely  scattered  and  El  Zagal  flying  in  confusion. 

The  tidings  of  this  rout,  and  of  the  safety  of  the  Christian 
army,  arrived  at  Cordova  just  as  reinforcements  were  on  tho 
point  of  setting  out.  The  anxiety  and  alarm  of  the  queen  and 
the  public  were  turned  to  transports  of  joy  and  gratitude.  Tho 
forces  were  disbanded,  solemn  processions  were  made,  and  te 
deums  chanted  in  the  churches,  for  so  signal  a  victory. 


CHAPTER  V. 

HOW  THE  PEOPLE  OF  GRANADA  REWARDED  THE  VALOR  OF  EL 

ZAGAL. 

THE  daring  spirit  of  the  old  warrior,  Muley  Abdallah  El  Zagal, 
in  sallying  forth  to  defend  his  territories,  while  he  left  an 
armed  rival  in  his  capital,  had  struck  the  people  of  Granada 
with  admiration.  They  recalled  his  former  exploits,  and  again 
anticipated  some  hardy  achievement  from  his  furious  valor. 
Couriers  from  the  army  reported  its  formidable  position  on  the 
height  of  Bentomiz.  For  a  time,  there  was  a  pause  in  the 
bloody  commotions  of  the  city ;  all  attention  was  turned  to  the 
blow  about  to  be  struck  at  the  Christian  camp.  The  same  con 
siderations  which  diffused  anxiety  and  terror  through  Cor 
dova,  swellecl  every  bosom  with  exulting  confidence  in  Gra 
nada.  The  Moors  expected  to  hear  of  another  massacre,  like 
that  in  the  mountains  of  Malaga.  ' '  El  Zagal  has  again 
entrapped  the  enemy!"  was  the  cry.  "The  power  of  the  un 
believers  is  about  to  be  struck  to  the  heart.  We  shall  soon  see 
the  Christian  king  led  captive  to  the  capital."  Thus  the  name 
of  El  Zagal  was  on  every  tongue.  He  was  extolled  as  the 
saviour  of  the  country ;  the  only  one  worthy  of  wearing  the 
Moorish  crown.  Boabdil  was  reviled  as  basely  remaining 


200  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

passive  while  his  country  was  invaded ;  and  sc  violent  became 
the  clamor  of  the  populace,  that  his  adherents  trembled  for  his 
safety. 

While  the  people  of  Granada  were  impatiently  looking  out 
for  tidings  of  the  anticipated  victory,  scattered  horsemen 
came  spurring  across  the  vega.  They  were  fugitives  from  the 
Moorish  army  and  brought  the  first  incoherent  account  of  its 
defeat.  Every  one  who  attempted  to  tell  the  tale  of  this  unac  • 
countable  panic  and  dispersion,  was  as  if  bewildered  by  the 
broken  recollection  of  some  frightful  dream.  He  knew  not 
how  or  why  it  came  to  pass.  He  talked  of  a  battle  in  the 
night,  among  rocks  and  precipices,  by  the  glare  of  bale-fires ; 
of  multitudes  of  armed  foes  in  every  pass,  seen  by  gleams  and 
flashes;  of  the  sudden  horror  that  seized  upon  the  army  at 
daybreak;  its  headlong  flight,  and  total  dispersion.  Hour 
after  hour,  the  arrival  of  other  fugitives  confirmed  the  story 
of  ruin  and  disgrace. 

In  proportion  to  their  recent  vaunting,  was  the  humiliation 
that  now  feh1  upon  the  people  of  Granada.  There  was  a  uni 
versal  burst,  not  of  grief,  but  indignation.  They  confounded 
the  leader  with  the  army — the  deserted,  with  those  who  had 
abandoned  him;  and  El  Z.agal,  from  being  their  idol,  became 
suddenly  the  object  of  their  execration.  He  had  sacrificed  the 
army ;  he  had  disgraced  the  nation ;  he  had  betrayed  the  coun 
try.  He  was  a  dastard,  a  traitor ;  he  was  unworthy  to  reign ! 

On  a  sudden,  one  among  the  multitude  shouted,  ' '  Long  live 
Boabdil  el  Chico !"  the  cry  was  echoed  on  all  sides,  and  every 
one  shouted,  ' '  Long  live  Boabdil  el  Chico !  long  live  the  legiti 
mate  king  of  Granada :  and  death  to  all  usurpers !"  In  the  ex 
citement  of  the  moment,  they  thronged  to  the  Albaycin;  and 
those  who  had  lately  besieged  Boabdil  with  arms,  now  sur 
rounded  his  palace  with  acclamations.  The  keys  of  the  city, 
and  of  all  the  fortresses,  were  laid  at  his  feet ;  he  was  borne  in 
state  to  the  Alhambra,  and  once  more  seated,  with  all  due  cere 
mony,  on  the  throne  of  his  ancestors. 

Boabdil  had  by  this  time  become  so  accustomed  to  be 
crowned  and  uncrowned  by  the  multitude,  that  he  put  no 
great  faith  in  the  duration  of  their  loyalty.  He  knew  that 
he  was  surrounded  by  hollow  hearts,  and  that  most  of  the 
courtiers  of  the  Alhambra  were  secretly  devoted  to  his  uncle. 
He  ascended  the  throne  as  the  rightful  sovereign,  who  had 
been  dispossessed  of  it  by  usurpation ;  and  he  ordered  the 
heads  of  four  of  the  principal  nobles  to  be  struck  o*t  who  had 


'THE  CONQUEST  OF,  GRANADA.  201 

been  most  zealous  in  support  of  the  usurper.  Executions  of 
the  kind  were  matters  of  course,  on  any  change  of  Moorish 
government ;  and  Boabdil  was  lauded  for  his  moderation  and 
humanity,  in  being  content  with  so  small  a  sacrifice.  The 
factions  were  awed  into  obedience ;  the  populace,  delighted  with 
any  change,  extolled  Boabdil  to  the  skies;  and  the  name  of 
Muley  Abdallah  El  Zagal  was  for  a  time  a  by-word  of  scorn 
and  opprobrium  throughout  the  city. 

Never  was  any  commander  more  astonished  and  confounded 
by  a  sudden  reverse  of  fortune,  than  El  Zagal.  The  evening 
had  seen  him  with  a  powerful  army  at  his  command,  his 
enemy  within  his  grasp,  and  victory  about  to  cover  him  with 
glory,  and  to  consolidate  his  power :— the  morning  beheld  him 
a  fugitive  among  the  mountains,  his  army,  his  prosperity, 
his  power,  all  dispelled,  he  knew  not  how— gone  like  a  dream 
of  the  night.  In  vain  had  he  tried  to  stem  the  headlong  flight 
of  the  army.  He  saw  his  squadrons  breaking  and  dispersing 
among  the  cliffs  of  the  mountains,  until,  of  all  his  host,  only 
ahandful  of  cavaliers  remained  faithful  to  Mm.  With  these 
he  made  a  gloomy  retreat  towards  Granada,  but  with  a 
heart  full  of  foreboding.  When  he  drew  near  to  the  city, 
he  paused  on  the  banks  of  the  Xenel,  and  sent  forth  scouts 
to  collect  intelligence.  They  returned  with  dejected  coun 
tenances:  "The  gates  of  Granada,"  said  they,  "are  closed 
against  you.  The  banner  of  Boabdil  floats  on  the  tower  of 
the  AJhambra." 

El  Zagal  turned  his  steed,  and  departed  in  silence.  He  re 
treated  to  the  town  of  Almunecar,  and  from  thence  to  Almeria, 
which  places  still  remained  faithful  to  him.  Restless  and  un 
easy  at  being  so  distant  from  the  capital,  he  again  changed  his 
abode,  and  repaired  to  the  city  of  Guadix,  within  a  few  leagues 
of  Granada.  Here  he  remained,  endeavoring  to  rally  his  forces, 
and  preparing  to  avail  himself  of  any  sudden  change  in  the 
fluctuating  politics  of  the  metropolis. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

SURRENDER  OF   VELEZ   MALAGA   AND   OTHER   PLACES. 

THE  people  of  Velez  Malaga  had  beheld  the  camp  of  Muley 
Abdallah  El  Zagal,  covering  the  summit  of  Bentomiz,  and  glit 
tering  in  the  last  rays  of  the  setting  sun.  During  the  night,  they 


202  THE  CONQUEST  OF  G8AXADA. 

had  been  alarmed  and  perplexed  by  signal-fires  on  the  moun 
tain,  and  by  the  sound  of  distant  battle.  When  the  nior; 
broke,  the  Moorish  army  had  vanished  as  if  by  enchantment. 
While  the  inhabitants  were  lost  in  wonder  and  conjecture,  d 
body  of  cavalry,  the  fragment  of  the  army  saved  by  Rodov;  :  • 
de  Vanegas,  the  brave  alcayde  of  Granada,  came  galloping  l<  < 
the  gates.  The  tidings  of  the  strange  discomfiture  of  the  host, 
filled  the  city  with  consternation;  but  Rodovan  exhorted  Un 
people  to  continue  their  resistance.  He  was  devoted  to  El  Za- 
gal,  and  confident  in  his  skill  and  prowess;  and  felt  assured 
that  he  would  soon  collect  his  scattered  forces,  and  return  with 
fresh  troops  from  Granada.  The  people  were  comforted  by 
the  words,  and  encouraged  by  the  presence,  of  Rodovan;  and 
they  had  still  a  lingering  hope  that  the  heavy  artillery  of  the 
Christians  might  be  locked  up  in  the  impassable  defiles  of  the 
mountains.  This  hope  was  soon  at  an  end.  The  very  next 
day,  they  beheld  long  laborious  lines  of  ordnance  slowly  mov 
ing  into  the  Spanish  camp,  lombards,  ribadoquines,  catapultas, 
and  cars  laden  with  munitions, — while  the  escort,  under  the 
brave  Master  of  Alcantara,  wheeled  in  great  battalions  into 
the  camp,  to  augment  the  force  of  the  besiegers. 

The  intelligence  that  Granada  had  shut  its  gates  against  El 
Zagal,  and  that  no  reinforcements  were  to  be  expected,  com 
pleted  the  despair  of  the  inhabitants ;  even  Rodovan  himself 
lost  confidence,  and  advised  capitulation. 

The  terms  were  arranged  between  the  alcayde  and  the  noble 
count  de  Cifuentes ;  the  latter  had  been  prisoner  of  Rodovan 
at  Granada,  who  had  treated  him  with  chivalrous  courtesy. 
They  had  conceived  a  mutual  esteem  for  each  other,  and  met 
as  ancient  friends. 

Ferdinand  granted  favorable  conditions,  for  he  was  eager  to 
proceed  against  Malaga.  The  inhabitants  were  permitted  to 
depart  with  their  effects,  except  their  arms,  and  to  reside,  if 
they  chose  it,  in  Spain,  in  any  place  distant  from  the  sea. 
One  hundred  and  twenty  Christians,  of  both  sexes,  were  res 
cued  from  captivity  by  the  surrender  of  Velez  Malaga,  and 
were  sent  to  Cordova,  where  they  were  received  with  great 
tenderness  by  the  queen  and  her  daughter  the  Infanta  Isa 
bella,  in  the  famous  cathedral,  in  the  midst  of  public  rejoic 
ings  for  the  victory. 

The  capture  of  Velez  Malaga  was  followed  by  the  surrender 
of  Bentomiz,  Comares,  and  all  the  towns  and  fortresses  of  the 
which  were  strongly  garrisoned,  and  discreet  and 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  203 

valiant  cavaliers  appointed  as  their  alcaydes.  The  inhabitants 
of  nearly  forty  towns  of  the  Alpaxarra  mountains,  also,  sent 
deputations  to  the  Castilian  sovereigns,  taking  the  oath  of 
allegiance  as  Mudehares,  or  Moslem  vassals. 

About  the  same  time  came  letters  from  Boabdil  el  Chico, 
announcing  to  the  sovereigns  the  revolution  of  Granada  in 
his  favor.  He  solicited  kindness  and  protection  for  the  inhab 
itants  who  had  returned  to  their  allegiance,  and  for  those  of 
all  other  places  which  should  renounce  adherence  to  his  uncle. 
By  this  means  (he  observed)  the  whole  kingdom  of  Granada 
would  soon  be  induced  to  acknowledge  his  sway,  and  would 
be  held  by  him  in  faithful  vassalage  to  the  Castilian  crown. 

The  Catholic  sovereigns  complied  with  his  request.  Protec 
tion  was  immediately  extended  to  the  inhabitants  of  Granada, 
permitting  them  to  cultivate  their  fields  in  peace,  and  to  trade 
with  the  Christian  territories  in  all  articles  excepting  arms ; 
being  provided  with  letters  of  surety,  from  some  Christian 
captain  or  alcayde.  The  same  favor  was  promised  to  all  other 
places,  which,  within  six  months,  should  renounce  El  Zagal 
and  come  under  allegiance  to  the  younger  king.  Should  they 
not  do  so  within  that  time,  the  sovereigns  threatened  to  make 
war  upon  them,  and  conquer  them  for  themselves.  This  meas 
ure  had  a  great  effect,  in  inducing  many  to  return  to  the  stan 
dard  of  Boabdil. 

Having  made  every  necessary  arrangement  for  the  govern 
ment  and  security  of  the  newly  conquered  territory,  Ferdi 
nand  turned  his  attention  to  the  great  object  of  his  campaign, 
the  reduction  of  Malaga. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

OF  THE  CITY  OF  MALAGA,    AND  ITS  INHABITANTS. 

THE  city  of  Malaga  lies  in  the  lap  of  a  fertile  valley,  sur 
rounded  by  mountains,  excepting  on  the  part  which  lies  open 
to  the  sea.  As  it  was  one  of  the  most  important,  so  it  was  one 
of  the  strongest,  cities  of  the  Moorish  kingdom.  It  was  forti 
fied  by  walls  of  prodigious  strength,  studded  with  a  great 
number  of  huge  towers.  On  the  land  side,  it  was  protected 
by  a  natural  barrier  of  mountains;  and  on  the  other,  the 


204  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

waves  of  the  Mediterranean  beat  against  the  foundations  of 
its  massive  bulwarks. 

At  one  end  of  the  city,  near  the  sea,  on  a  high  mound,  stood 
the  Aleazaba  or  citadel,— a  fortress  of  great  strength.  Imme 
diately  above  this,  rose  a  steep  and  rocky  mount,  on  the  top 
of  which,  in  old  times,  had  been  a  Pharo  or  light-house,  from 
which  the  height  derived  its  name  of  Gibralf aro.  *  It  was  at 
present  crowned  by  an  immense  castle,  which,  from  its  lofty 
and  cragged  situation,  its  vast  walls  and  mighty  towers,  was 
deemed  impregnable.  It  communicated  with  the  Aleazaba  by 
a  covered  way,  six  paces  broad,  leading  down  between  two 
walls,  along  the  profile  or  ridge  of  the  rock.  The  castle  of 
Gibralfaro  commanded  both  citadel  and  city,  and  was  capable, 
if  both  were  taken,  of  maintaining  a  siege.  Two  large  suburbs 
adjoined  the  city :  in  the  one  towards  the  sea,  were  the  dwell 
ing-houses  of  the  most  opulent  inhabitants,  adorned  with  hang 
ing  gardens;  the  other,  on  the  land  side,  was  thickly  peopled, 
and  surrounded  by  strong  walls  and  towers. 

Malaga  possessed  a  brave  and  numerous  garrison,  and  the 
common  people  were  active,  hardy,  and  resolute;  but  the  city 
was  rich  and  commercial,  and  under  the  habitual  control  of 
numerous  opulent  merchants,  who  dreaded  the  ruinous  con 
sequences  of  a  siege.  They  were  little  zealous  for  the  warlike 
renown  of  their  city,  and  longed  rather  to  participate  in  the 
enviable  security  of  property,  and  the  lucrative  privileges  of 
safe  traffic  with  the  Christian  territories,  granted  to  all  places 
which  declared  for  Boabdil.  At  the  head  of  these  gainful  citi 
zens  was  Ali  Dordux,  a  mighty  merchant  of  uncounted  wealth, 
whose  ships  traded  to  every  part  of  the  Levant,  and  whose 
word  was  as  a  law  in  Malaga.  Ali  Dordux  assembled  the  most 
opulent  and  important  of  his  commercial  brethren,  and  they 
repaired  in  a  body  to  the  Aleazaba,  where  they  were  received 
by  the  alcayde,  Albozen  Connixa,  with  that  deference  gener 
ally  shown  to  men  of  their  great  local  dignity  and  power  of 
purse.  Ali  Dordux  was  ample  and  stately  in  his  form,  and 
fluent  and  emphatic  in  his  discourse;  his  eloquence  had  an 
effect  therefore  upon  the  alcayde,  as  he  represented  the  hope 
lessness  of  a  defence  of  Malaga,  the  misery  that  must  attend  a 
siege,  and  the  ruin  that  must  follow  a  capture  by  force  of 
arms.  On  the  other  hand,  he  set  forth  the  grace  that  might 
be  obtained  from  the  Castilian  sovereigns,  by  an  early  and 

*  A  corruption  of  Gibel-faro;  the  hill  of  the  light-house. 


TIIK  COX  QUEST  OF  GRANADA.  205 

voluntary  acknowledgment  of  Boabdil  as  king;  the  peaceful 
possession  of  their  property,  and  the  profitable  commerce  with 
the  Christian  ports,  that  would  be  allowed  them.  He  was  sec 
onded  by  his  weighty  and  important  coadjutors ;  and  the  al- 
cayde,  accustomed  to  regard  them  as  the  arbiters  of  the  affairs 
of  the  place,  yielded  to  their  united  counsels.  He  departed, 
therefore,  with  all  speed,  to  the  Christian  camp,  empowered  to 
arrange  a  capitulation  with  the  Castilian  monarch ;  and  in  the 
mean  time,  his  brother  remained  in  command  of  the  Alcazaba. 

There  was  at  this  time,  as  alcayde,  in  the  old  crag-built  cas 
tle  of  Gibralfaro,  a  warlike  and  fiery  Moor,  an  implacable 
enemy  of  the  Christians.  This  was  no  other  than  Hamet  Zeli, 
surnamed  El  Zegri,  the  once  formidable  alcayde  of  Ronda,  and 
the  terror  of  its  mountains.  He  had  never  forgiven  the  cap 
ture  of  his  favorite  fortress,  and  panted  for  vengeance  on  the 
Christians.  Notwithstanding  his  reverses,  he  had  retained  the 
favor  of  El  Zagal,  who  knew  how  to  appreciate  a  bold  warrior 
of  the  kind,  and  had  Dlaced  him  in  command  of  this  important 
fortress  of  Gibralfaro. 

Hamet  el  Zegri  had  gathered  round  him  the  remnant  of  his 
band  of  Gomeres,  with  others  of  the  same  tribe.  These  fierce 
warriors  were  nestled,  like  so  many  war-hawks,  about  their 
lofty  cliff.  They  looked  down  with  martial  contempt  upon  the 
commercial  city  of  Malaga,  which  they  were  placed  to  protect ; 
or  rather,  they  esteemed  it  only  for  its  military  importance, 
and  its  capability  of  defence.  They  held  no  communion  with 
its  trading,  gainful  inhabitants,  and  even  considered  the  garri 
son  of  the  Alcazaba  as  their  inferiors.  War  was  their  pursuit 
and  fashion ;  they  rejoiced  in  its  turbulent  and  perilous  scenes ; 
and,  confident  in  the  strength  of  the  city,  and,  above  all,  of 
their  castle,  they  set  at  defiance  the  menace  of  Christian  inva 
sion.  There  were  among  them,  also,  many  apostate  Moors, 
who  had  once  embraced  Christianity,  but  had  since  recanted, 
and  had  fled  from  the  ve"ngeance*of  the  Inquisition.  These 
were  desperadoes,  who  had  no  mercy  to  expect,  should  they 
again  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy. 

Such  were  the  fierce  elements  of  the  garrison  of  Gibralfaro ; 
and  its  rage  may  easily  be  conceived,  at  hearing  that  Malaga 
was  to  be  given  up  without  a  blow ;  that  they  were  to  sink  into 
Christian  vassals,  under  the  intermediate  sway  of  Boabdil  el 
Chico;  and  that  the  alcayde  of  the  Alcazaba  had  departed,  to 
arrange  the  terms  of  capitulation. 

Hamet  el  Zegri  determined  to  avert,  by  desperate  means,  the 


206  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

threatened  degradation.  He  knew  that  there  was  a  large 
party  in  the  city  faithful  to  El  Zagal,  being  composed  of  war 
like  men,  who  had  taken  refuge  from  the  various  mountain 
towns  which  had  been  captured :  their  feelings  were  desperate 
as  their  fortunes,  and,  like  Hamet,  they  panted  for  revenge 
upon  the  Christians.  With  these  he  had  a  secret  conference, 
and  received  assurances  of  their  adherence  to  him  in  any  meas 
ures  of  defence.  As  to  the  counsel  of  the  peaceful  inhabitants, 
he  considered  it  unworthy  the  consideration  of  a  soldier ;  and 
he  spurned  at  the  interference  of  the  wealthy  merchant  Ali 
Dordux,  in  matters  of  warfare. 

"  Still,"  said  Hamet  el  Zegri,  "let  us  proceed  regularly."  So 
he  descended  with  his  Gomeres  to  the  citadel,  entered  it  sud 
denly,  put  to  death  the  brother  of  the  alcayde,  and  such  of  the 
garrison  as  made  any  demur,  and  then  summoned  the  princi 
pal  inhabitants  of  Malaga,  to  deliberate  on  measures  for  the 
welfare  of  the  city.*  The  wealthy  merchants  again  mounted 
to  the  citadel,  excepting  Ali  Dordux,  wko  refused  to  obey  the 
summons.  They  entered  with  hearts  tilled  with  awe,  for  they 
found  Hamet  surrounded  by  his  grim  African  guard,  and  all 
the  stern  array  of  military  power,  and  they  beheld  the  bloody 
traces  of  the  recent  massacre. 

Hamet  el  Zegri  rolled  a  dark  and  searching  eye  upon  the 
assembly.  "Who,  "said  he,  "is  loyal  and  devoted  to  Muley 
Abdallah  el  Zagal?"  Every  one  present  asserted  his  loyalty. 
"Good!"  said  Hamet;  "  and  who  is  ready  to  prove  his  devo 
tion  to  his  sovereign,  by  defending  this  his  important  city  to 
the  last  extremity  ?"  Every  one  present  declared  his  readiness. 
"Enough!"  observed  Hamet:  "the  alcayde  Albozen  Connixa 
has  proved  himself  a  traitor  to  his  sovereign,  and  to  you  all ; 
for  he  has  conspired  to  deliver  the  place  to  the  Christians,  it 
behoves  you  to  choose  some  other  commander  capable  of 
defending  your  city  againjft  the  approaching  enemy."  The 
assembly  declared  unanimously,  that  there  was  no  one  so 
worthy  of  the  command  as  himself.  So  Hamet  el  Zegri  was 
appointed  alcayde  of  Malaga,  and  immediately  proceeded  to 
man  the  forts  and  towers  with  his  partisans,  and  to  make 
every  preparation  for  a  desperate  resistance. 

Intelligence  of  these  occurrences  put  an  end  to  the  negotia 
tions  between  king  Ferdinand  and  the  superseded  alcayde  Al 
bozen  Connixa,  and  it  was  supposed  there  was  no  alternative 

*  Cura  de  los  Palacios,  c.  82. 


TJ.h'  Cv-\Qi'}-:$T  OF  GRANADA.  207 

but  to  lay  siege  to  tho  placa.  The  marques  of  Cadiz,  howevar, 
found  at  Velez  a  Moorish  cavalier  of  some  note,  a  native  of 
Malaga,  who  offered  to  tamper  with  Harriet  el  Zegri  for  the 
surrender  of  the  city,  or  at  least  of  the  castle  of  Gibralfaro. 
The  marques  communicated  this  to  the  king :  "I  put  this  busi 
ness,  and  the  key  of  my  treasury,  into  your  hands, "  said  Fer 
dinand;  "act,  stipulate,  and  disburse,  in  my  name,  as  you  think 
proper. " 

The  marques  armed  the  Moor  with  his  own  lance,  cuirass, 
and  target,  and  mounted  him  on  one  of  -his  own  horses.  He 
equipped  in  similar  Style,  also,  another  Moor,  his  companion 
and  relation.  They  bore  secret  letters  to  Hamet  from  the  mar 
ques,  offering  him  the  town  of  Coin  in  perpetual  inheritance, 
and  four  thousand  doblas  in  gold,  if  he  would  deliver  up  Gib 
ralfaro  ;  together  with  large  sums,  to  be  distributed  among  his 
officers  and  soldiers :  and  he  offered  unlimited  rewards  for  the 
surrender  of  the  city.* 

Hamet  had  a  warrior's  admiration  of  the  marques  of  Cadiz, 
and  received  his  messengers  with  courtesy  in  his  fortress  of 
Gibralfaro.  He  even  listened  to  their  propositions  with  pa 
tience,  and  dismissed  them  in  safety,  though  with  an  absolute 
refusal.  The  marques  thought  his  reply  was  not  so  peremp 
tory  as  to  discourage  another  effort.  The  emissaries  were  dis 
patched,  therefore,  a  second  time,  with  further  propositions. 
They  approached  Malaga  in  the  night,  but  found  the  guards 
doubled,  patrols  abroad,  and  the  whole  place  on  the  alert. 
They  were  discovered,  pursued,  and  only  saved  themselves  by 
the  fleetness  of  their  steeds,  and  their  knowledge  of  the  passes 
of  the  mountains. 

Finding  all  attempts  to  tamper  with  the  faith  of  Hamet  el 
Zegri  utterly  futile,  king  Ferdinand  publicly  summoned  the 
city  to  surrender,  offering  the  most  favorable  terms  in  case  of 
immediate  compliance ;  but  threatening  captivity  to  all  the  in 
habitants,  in  case  of  resistance. 

The  message  was  delivered  in  presence  of  the  principal  in 
habitants,  Avho,  however,  were  too  much  in  awe  of  the  stern 
alcayde  to  utter  a  word.  Hamet  el  Zegri  then  rose  haughtily, 
and  replied,  that  the  city  of  Malaga  had  not  been  confided  to 
him  to  be  surrendered,  but  defended;  and  the  king  should 
witness  how  he  acquitted  himself  of  his  charge,  t 

The  messengers  returned  with  formidable  accounts  of  the 

*  Cura  de  los  Palacios,  c.  82.  t  Fvdgar,  part  3k  cap.  V4- 


208  TUB  CONQUEST  OF  GRANAD.A. 

force  of  the  garrison,  the  strength  of  the  fortifications,  and  the 
determined  spirit  of  the  commander  and  his  men.  The  king 
immediately  sent  orders  to  have  the  heavy  artillery  forwarded 
from  Antiquera ;  and,  on  the  7th  of  May,  marched  with  his 
army  towards  Malaga. 


'   CHAPTER  VIII.  ^ 

ADVANCE  OF  KING  FERDINAND  AGAINST  MALAGA. 

THE  army  of  Ferdinand  advanced  in  lengthened  line,  glitter 
ing  along  the  foot  of  the  mountains  which  border  the  Mediter 
ranean  ;  while  a  fleet  of  vessels,  freighted  with  heavy  artillery 
and  warlike  munitions,  kept  pace  with  it  at  a  short  distance 
from  the  land,  covering  the  sea  with  a  thousand  gleaming  sails. 
When  Hamet  el  Zegri  saw  this  force  approaching,  he  set  fire 
to  the  houses  of  the  suburbs  which  adjoined  the  walls,  and 
sent  forth  three  battalions  to  encounter  the  advance  guard  of 
the  enemy. 

The  Christian  army  drew  near  to  the  city,  at  that  end 
where  the  castle  and  rocky  height  of  Gibralfaro  defend  the  sea 
board.  Immediately  opposite,  at  about  two  bow-shots'  distance, 
stood  the  castle ;  and  between  it  and  the  high  chain  of  moun 
tains,  was  a  steep  and  rocky  hill,  commanding  a  pass  through 
which  the  Christians  must  march  to  penetrate  to  the  vega  and 
surround  the  city.  Hamet  el  Zegri  ordered  the  three  battal 
ions  to  take  their  stations,  one  on  this  hill,  another  in  the  pass 
near  the  castle,  and  a  third  on  the  side  of  the  mountain  near 
the  sea. 

A  body  of  Spanish  foot-soldiers,  of  the  advance  guard,  sturdy 
mountaineers  of  Gallicia,  sprang  forward  to  climb  the  side  of 
the  height  next  the  sea ;  at  the  same  time,  a  number  of  cava 
liers  and  hidalgos  of  the  royal  household  attacked  the  Moors 
who  guarded  the  pass  below.  The  Moors  defended  their  posts 
with  obstinate  valor.  The  Gallicians  were  repeatedly  over 
powered  and  driven  down  the  hill,  but  as  often  rallied,  and 
being  reinforced  by  the  hidalgos  and  cavaliers,  returned  to  the 
assault.  This  obstinate  struggle  lasted  for  six  hours :  the  strife 
was  of  a  deadly  kind,  not  merely  with  cross-bows  and  arque- 
busses,  but  hand  to  hand,  with  swords  and  daggers ;  no  quarter 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  209 

was  claimed  or  given,  on  either  side— they  fought  not  to  make 
captives,  but  to  slay.  It  was  but  the  advance  of  the  Christian 
army  that  was  engaged;  so  narrow  was  the  pass  along  the 
coast,  that  the  army  could  proceed  only  in  file :  horse  and  foot, 
and  beasts  of  burden,  were  crowded  one  upon  another,  imped 
ing  each  other,  and  blocking  up  the  narrow  and  rugged  defile. 
The  soldiers  heard  the  uproar  of  the  battle,  the  sound  of  trum 
pets,  and  the  war-cries  of  the  Moors— but  tried  in  vain  to  press 
forward  to  the  assistance  of  their  companions. 

At  length  a  body  of  foot-soldiers  of  the  Holy  Brotherhood 
climbed,  with  great  difficulty,  the  steep  side  of  the  mountain 
which  overhung  the  pass,  and  advanced  with  seven  banners 
displayed.  The  Moors,  seeing  this  force  above  them,  aban 
doned  the  pass  in  despair.  The  battle  was  still  raging  on 
the  height;  the  Gallicians,  though  supported  by  Castilian 
troops  under  Don  Hurtado  de  Mendoza  and  Garcilasso  de  la 
Vega,  were  severely  pressed  and  roughly  handled  by  the 
Moors;  at  length  a  brave  standard-bearer,  Luys  Mazedo  by 
name,  threw  himself  into  the  midst  of  the  enemy,  and  planted 
his  banner  on  the  summit.  The  Gallicians  and  Castilians, 
stimulated  by  this  noble  self-devotion,  followed  him,  fighting 
desperately,  and  the  Moors  were  at  length  driven  to  their 
castle  of  Gibralf aro.  * 

This  important  height  being  taken,  the  pass  lay  open  to  the 
army ;  but  by  this  time  evening  was  advancing,  and  the  host 
was  too  weary  and  exhausted  to  seek  proper  situations  for  the 
encampment.  The  king,  attended  by  several  grandees  and 
cavaliers,  went  the  rounds  at  night,  stationing  outposts  to 
wards  the  city,  and  guards  and  patrols  to  give  the  alarm  on 
the  least  movement  of  the  enemy.  All  night  the  Christians 
lay  upon  their  arms,  lest  there  should  be  some  attempt  to  sally 
forth  and  attack  them. 

When  the  morning  dawned,  the  king  gazed  with  admiration 
at  this  city,  which  he  hoped  soon  to  add  to  his  dominions.  It 
was  surrounded  on  one  side  by  vineyards,  gardens,  and 
orchards,  which  covered  the  hills  with  verdure ;  on  the  other 
side,  its  walls  were  bathed  by  the  smooth  and  tranquil  sea. 
Its  vast  and  lofty  towers  and  prodigious  castles,  hoary  with 
age,  yet  unimpaired  in  strength,  showed  the  labors  of  magnani 
mous  men  in  former  times  to  protect  their  favorite  abode. 
Hanging  gardens,  groves  of  oranges,  citrons,  and  pome- 

*  Pulgar.    Cronica. 


210  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

granates,  with  tall  cedars  and  stately  palms,  wore  mingled 
with  the  stern  battlements  and  towers — bespeaking  the  opu 
lence  and  luxury  that  reigned  within. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  Christian  army  poured  through  the 
pass,  and,  throwing  out  its  columns  and  extending  its  lines, 
took  possession  of  every  vantage-ground  around  the  city. 
King  Ferdinand  surveyed  the  ground,  and  appointed  the 
stations  of  the  different  commanders. 

The  important  mount  which  had  cost  so  violent  a  struggle, 
and  faced  the  powerful  fortress  of  Gibralfaro,  was  given  in 
charge  to  Roderigo  Ponce  de  Leon,  marques  of  Cadiz,  who,  in 
all  sieges,  claimed  the  post  of  danger.  He  had  several  noble 
cavaliers  with  their  retainers  in  his  encampment,  which  con 
sisted  of  fifteen  hundred  horse  and  fourteen  thousand  foot; 
and  extended  from  the  summit  of  the  mount  to  the  margin  of 
the  sea,  completely  blocking  up  the  approach  to  the  city  on 
that  side.  From  this  post,  a  line  of  encampments  extended 
quite  round  the  city  to  the  seaboard,  fortified  by  bulwarks  and 
deep  ditches ;  while  a  fleet  of  armed  ships  and  galleys  stretched 
before  the  harbor;  so  that  the  place  was  completely  invested, 
by  sea  and  land.  The  various  parts  of  the  valley  now  re 
sounded  with  the  din  of  preparation,  and  were  filled  with  arti 
ficers  preparing  warlike  engines  and  munitions :  armorers  and 
smiths,  with  glowing  forges  and  deafening  hammers ;  carpenters 
and  engineers,  constructing  machines  wherewith  to  assail  the 
walls ;  stone-cutters,  shaping  stone  balls  for  the  ordnance ;  and 
burners  of  charcoal,  preparing  fuel  for  the  furnaces  and  forges. 

When  the  encampment  was  formed,  the  heavy  ordnance  was 
landed  from  the  ships,  and  mounted  in  various  parts  of  the 
camp.  Five  huge  lombards  were  placed  on  the  mount  com 
manded  by  the  marques  of  Cadiz,  so  as  to  bear  upon  the  castle 
of  Gibralfaro. 

The  Moors  made  strenuous  efforts  to  impede  these  prepara 
tions.  They  kept  up  a  heavy  fire  from  their  ordnance,  upon 
the  men  employed  in  digging  trenches  or  constructing  batter 
ies,  so  that  the  latter  had  to  work  principally  in  the  night. 
The  royal  tents  had  been  stationed  conspicuously,  and  within 
reach  of  the  Moorish  batteries ;  but  were  so  warmly  assailed, 
that  they  had  to  be  removed  behind  a  hill. 

When  the  works  were  completed,  the  Christian  batteries 
opened  in  return,  and  kept  up  a  tremendous  cannonade;  while 
the  fleet,  approaching  the  land,  assailed  the  city  vigorously  on 
the  opposite  side. 


THE  COSQUKST  OF  GRANADA. 

"It  was  a  glorious  and  delectable  sight."  observes  Fray  An 
tonio  Agapida,  "  to  behold  this  infidel  city  thus  surrounded  by 
sea  and  land,  by  a  mighty  Christian  force.  Every  mound  in 
its  circuit  was,  as  it  were,  a  little  city  of  tents,  bearing  the  stan 
dard  of  some  renowned  Catholic  warrior.  Beside  the  warlike 
ships  and  galleys  which  lay  before  the  place,  the  sea  was  cov 
ered  with  innumerable  sails,  passing  and  repassing,  appearing 
and  disappearing,  being  engaged  in  bringing  supplies  for  the 
subsistence  of  the  army.  It  seemed  a  vast  spectacle  contrived 
to  recreate  the  eye,  did  not  the  volleying  bursts  of  flame  and 
smoke  from  the  ships,  which  seemed  to  lie  asleep  on  the  quiet 
sea,  and  the  thunder  of  ordnance  from  camp  and  city,  from 
tower  and  battlement,  tell  the  deadly  warfare  that  was  raging. 

"  At  night,  the  scene  was  far  more  direful  than  in  the  day. 
The  cheerful  light  of  the  sun  was  gone ;  there  was  nothing  but 
the  flashes  of  artillery,  or  the  baleful  gleams  of  combustibles 
thrown  into  the  city,  and  the  conflagration  of  the  houses.  The 
fire  kept  up  from  the  Christian  batteries  was  incessant ;  there 
were  seven  great  lombards  in  particular,  called  The  Seven  Sis 
ters  of  Ximenes,  which  did  tremendous  execution.  The  Moor 
ish  ordnance  replied  in  thunder  from  the  walls ;  Gibralfaro  was 
wrapped  in  volumes  of  smoke,  rolling  about  its  base;  and 
Hamet  el  Zegri  and  his  Gomeres  looked  out  with  triumph  upon 
the  tempest  of  war  they  had  awakened.  Truly  they  were  so 
many  demons  incarnate,"  continues  the  pious  Fray  Antonio 
Agapida,  "who  were  permitted  by  Heaven  to  enter  into  and 
possess  this  infidel  city,  for  its  perdition." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

SIEGE     OF     MALAGA. 

THE  attack  on  Malaga,  by  sea  and  land,  was  kept  up  for  sev 
eral  days  with  tremendous  violence,  but  without  producing  any 
great  impression,  so  strong  were  the  ancient  bulwarks  of  the 
city.  The  count  de  Cifuentes  was  the  first  to  signalize  himself 
by  any  noted  achievement.  A  main  tower  of  the  suburb  had 
been  shattered  by  the  ordnance,  and  the  battlements  demol 
ished,  so  as  to  yield  no  shelter  to  its  defenders,  Seeing  this, 
the  count  assembled  a  gallant  band  of  cavaliers  of  the  royal 


212  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

household,  and  advanced  to  take  it  by  storm.  They  applied 
scaling-ladders,  and  mounted,  sword  in  hand.  The  Moors,  hav 
ing  no  longer  battlements  to  protect  them,  descended  to  a  lower 
floor,  and  made  furious  resistance  from  the  windows  and  loop 
holes.  They  poured  down  boiling  pitch  and  rosin,  and  hurled 
stones  and  darts  and  arrows  on  the  assailants.  Many  of  the 
Christians  were  slain,  their  ladders  were  destroyed  by  flaming 
combustibles,  and  the  count  was  obliged  to  retreat  from  before 
the  tower.  On  the  following  day  he  renewed  the  attack  with 
superior  force,  and,  after  a  severe  combat,  succeeded  in  plant 
ing  his  victorious  banner  on  the  tower. 

The  Moors  now  assailed  the  tower  in  their  turn.  They  un 
dermined  the  part  towards  the  city,  placed  props  of  wood  under 
the  foundation,  and,  setting  fire  to  them,  drew  off  to  a  distance. 
In  a  little  while  the  props  gave  way,  the  foundation  sunk,  and 
the  tower  was  rent ;  part  of  its  wall  fell,  with  a  tremendous 
noise ;  many  of  the  Christians  were  thrown  out  headlong,  and 
the  rest  were  laid  open  to  the  missiles  of  the  enemy. 

By  this  time,  however,  a  breach  had  been  made  in  the  wall 
adjoining  the  tower,  and  troops  poured  in  to  the  assistance  of 
their  comrades.  A  continued  battle  was  kept  up,  for  two  days 
and  a  night,  by  reinforcements  from  camp  and  city.  The  par 
ties  fought  backwards  and  forwards  through  the  breach  of  the 
wall,  with  alternate  success ;  and  the  vicinity  of  the  tower  was 
strewn  with  the  dead  and  wounded.  At  length  the  Moors  gradu 
ally  gave  way,  disputing  every  inch  of  ground,  until  they  were 
driven  into  the  city ;  and  the  Christians  remained  masters  of 
the  greater  part  of  the  suburb. 

This  partial  success,  though  gained  with  great  toil  and  blood 
shed,  gave  temporary  animation  to  the  Christians ;  they  soon 
found,  however,  that  the  attack  on  the  main  works  of  the  city 
was  a  much  more  arduous  task.  The  garrison  contained  vete 
rans  who  had  served  in  many  of  the  towns  captured  by  the 
Christians.  They  were  no  longer  confounded  and  dismayed  by 
the  battering  ordnance  and  other  strange  engines  of  foreign  in 
vention,  and  had  become  expert  in  parrying  their  effects,  in 
repairing  breaches,  and  erecting  counter-works. 

The  Christians,  accustomed  of  late  to  speedy  conquests  of 
Moorish  fortresses,  became  impatient  of  the  slow  progress  of 
the  siege.  Many  were  apprehensive  ot  a  scarcity  of  provisions, 
from  the  difficulty  of  subsisting  so  numerous  a  host  in  the  heart 
of  the  enemy's  country,  where  it  was  necessary  to  transport 
supplies  across  rugged  and  hostile  mountains,  or  subjected  to 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  213 

the  uncertainties  of  the  sea.  Many  also  were  alarmed  at  a  pes 
tilence  which  broke  out  in  the  neighboring  villages ;  and  some 
were  so  overcome  by  these  apprehensions,  as  to  abandon  the 
camp  and  return  to  their  homes. 

Several  of  the  loose  and  worthless  hangers-on  that  infest  all 
great  armies,  hearing  these  murmurs,  thought  that  the  siege 
would  soon  be  raised,  and  deserted  to  the  enemy,  hoping  to 
make  their  fortunes.  They  gave  exaggerated  accounts  of  the 
alarms  and  discontents  of  the  army,  and  represented  the  troops 
as  daily  returning  home  in  bands.  Above  all,  they  declared 
that  the  gunpowder  was  nearly  exhausted,  so  that  the  artillery 
would  soon  be  useless.  They  assured  the  Moors,  therefore,  that 
if  they  persisted  a  little  longer  in  their  defence,  the  king  would 
be  obliged  to  draw  off  his  forces  and  abandon  the  siege. 

The  reports  of  these  renegadoes  gave  fresh  courage  to  the 
garrison ;  they  made  vigorous  sallies  upon  the  camp,  harassing 
it  by  night  and  day,  and  obliging  every  part  to  be  guarded 
with  the  most  painful  vigilance.  They  fortified  the  weak  parts 
of  their  walls  with  ditches  and  palisadoes,  and  gave  every 
manifestation  of  a  determined  and  unyielding  spirit. 

Ferdinand  soon  received  intelligence  of  the  reports  which  had 
been  carried  to  the  Moors ;  he  understood  that  they  had  been 
informed,  likewise,  that  the  queen  was  alarmed  for  the  safety 
of  the  camp,  and  had  written  repeatedly  urging  him  to  aban 
don  the  siege.  As  the  best  means  of  disproving  all  these  false 
hoods,  and  of  destroying  the  vain  hopes  of  the  enemy,  Ferdi 
nand  wrote  to  the  queen,  entreating  her  to  come  and  take  up 
her  residence  in  the  camp. 


CHAPTER  X. 

SIEGE  OF  MALAGA  CONTINUED— OBSTINACY  OF  HAMET  EL  ZEGRI. 

GREAT  was  the  enthusiasm  of  the  army,  when  they  beheld 
their  patriot  queen  advancing  in  state,  to  share  the  toils  and 
dangers  of  her  people.  Isabella  entered  the  camp,  attended  by 
the  dignitaries  and  the  whole  retinue  of  her  court,  to  manifest 
that  this  was  no  temporary  visit.  On  one  side  of  her  was  her 
daughter,  the  Infanta;  on  the  other,  the  grand  cardinal  of 
Spain,  Hernando  de  Talavera,  the  prior  of  Prado,  confessor  to 


214  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GR 

the  queen,  followed  with  a  great  train  of  prelates,  courtiers, 
cavaliers,  and  ladies  of  distinction.  The  cavalcade  moved  in 
calm  and  stately  order  through  the  camp,  softening  the  iron 
aspect  of  war  by  this  array  of  courtly  grace  and  female  beauty. 

Isabella  had  commanded,  that  on  her  coming  to  the  camp, 
the  horrors  of  war  should  be  suspended,  and  fresh  offers  of 
peace  made  to  the  enemy.  On  her  arrival,  therefore,  there 
had  been  a  general  cessation  of  firing  throughout  the  camp. 
A  messenger  was,  at  the  same  time,  dispatched  to  the  besieged, 
informing  them  of  her  being  in  the  camp,  and  of  the  determi 
nation  of  the  sovereigns  to  make  it  their  settled  residence  until 
the  city  should  be  taken.  The  same  terms  were  offered,  in  case 
of  immediate  surrender,  that  had  been  granted  to  Velez  Mal 
aga  ;  but  the  inhabitants  were  threatened  with  captivity  and 
the  sword,  should  they  persist  in  their  defence. 

Hamet  el  Zegri  received  this  message  with  haughty  con 
tempt,  and  dismissed  the  messenger  without  deigning  a  reply. 
"The  Christian  sovereigns,"  said  he,  " have  made  this  offer  in 
consequence  of  their  despair.  The  silence  of  their  batteries 
proves  the  truth  of  what  has  been  told  us,  that  their  powder  is 
exhausted.  They  have  no  longer  the  means  of  demolishing 
our  walls ;  and  if  they  remain  much  longer,  the  autumnal  rains 
will  interrupt  their  convoys,  and  fill  their  camp  with  famine 
and  disease.  The  first  storm  will  disperse  their  fleet,  which 
has  no  neighboring  port  of  shelter :  Africa  will  then  be  open  to 
us,  to  procure  reinforcements  and  supplies." 

The  words  of  Hamet  el  Zegri  were  hailed  as  oracular,  by  his 
adherents.  Many  of  the  peaceful  part  of  the  community,  how 
ever,  ventured  to  remonstrate,  and  to  implore  him  to  accept 
the  proffered  mercy.  The  stern  Hamet  silenced  them  with  a 
terrific  threat :  he  declared,  that  whoever  should  talk  of  capitu 
lating,  or  should  hold  any  communication  with  the  Christians, 
should  be  put  to  death.  The  fierce  Gomeres,  like  true  men  of 
the  sword,  acted  upon  the  menace  of  their  chieftain  as  upon  a 
written  law,  and  having  detected  several  of  the  inhabitants  in 
secret  correspondence  with  the  enemy,  they  set  upon  and  slew 
them,  and  then  confiscated  their  effects.  This  struck  such  ter 
ror  into  the  citizens,  that  those  who  had  been  loudest  in  their 
murmurs  became  suddenly  mute,  and  were  remarked  as  evinc 
ing  the  greatest  bustle  and  alacrity  in  the  defence  of  the  city. 

When  the  messenger  returned  to  the  camp,  and  reported  the 
contemptuous  reception  of  the  royal  message,  king  Ferdinand 
was  exceedingly  indignant.  Finding  the  cessation  of  firing,  on; 


THE  CONQUEST  OP  GRANADA. 

the  queen's  arrival,  had  encouraged  a  belief  among  the  enemy 
that  there  was  a  scarcity  of  powder  in  the  camp,  he  ordered  a 
general  discharge  from  all  the  batteries.  The  sudden  burst  of 
war  from  every  quarter  soon  convinced  the  Moors  jpf  their 
error,  and  completed  the  confusion  of  the  citizens,  who  knew 
not  which  most  to  dread,  their  assailants  or  their  defenders, 
the  Christians  or  the  Gomeres. 

That  evening  the  sovereigns  visited  the  encampment  of  the 
marques  of  Cadiz,  which  commanded  a  view  over  a  great  part 
of  the  city  and  the  camp.  The  tent  of  the  marques  was  of 
great  magnitude,  furnished  with  hangings  of  rich  brocade  and 
French  cloth  of  the  rarest  texture.  It  was  in  the  oriental 
style;  and,  as  it  crowned  the  height,  with  the  surrounding 
tents  of  other  cavaliers,  all  sumptuously  furnished,  presented 
a  gay  and  silken  contrast  to  the  opposite  towers  of  Gibralfaro. 
Here  a  splendid  collation  was  served  up  to  the  sovereigns ;  and 
the  courtly  revel  that  prevailed  in  this  chivalrous  encamp 
ment,  the  glitter  of  pageantry,  and  the  bursts  of  festive  music 
made  more  striking  the  gloom  and  silence  that  reigned  over 
the  Moorish  castle. 

The  marques  of  Cadiz,  while  it  was  yet  light,  conducted  his 
royal  visitors  to  every  point  that  commanded  a  view  of  the 
warlike  scene  below.  He  caused  the  heavy  lombards  also  to 
be  discharged,  that  the  queen  and  ladies  of  the  court  might 
witness  the  effect  of  those  tremendous  engines.  The  fair 
dames  were  filled  with  awe  and  admiration,  as  the  mountain 
shook  beneath  their  feet  with  the  thunder  of  the  artillery,  and 
they  beheld  great  fragments  of  the  Moorish  walls  tumbling 
down  the  rocks  and  precipices. 

While  the  good  marques  was  displaying  these  things  to  his 
royal  guests,  he  lifted  up  his  eyes,  and  to  his  astonishment  be 
held  his  ©wn  banner  hanging  out  from  the  nearest  tower  of 
Gibralfaro.  The  blood  mantled  in  his  cheek,  for  it  was  a  ban 
ner  which  he  had  lost  at  the  time  of  the  memorable  massacre 
of  the  heights  of  Malaga.*  To  make  this  taunt  more  evident, 
several  of  the  Gomeres  displayed  themselves  upon  the  battle 
ments,  arrayed  in  the  helmets  and  cuirasses  of  some  of  the 
cavaliers  slain  or  captured  on  that  occasion.  The  marques  of 
Cadiz  restrained  his  indignation,  and  held  his  peace ;  but  sev 
eral  of  his  cavaliers  vowed  loudly  to  revenge  this  cruel  bra 
vado,  on  the  ferocious  garrison  of  Gibralfaro. 

*  Diego  de  Valera.    Cronica,  MS. 


216  THE  CONQtTEST  OF  GRANADA. 


M  CHAPTER  XI. 

ATTACK  OF  THE  MARQUES  OF  CADIZ  UPON  GIBRALFARO. 

THE  marques  of  Cadiz  was  not  a  cavalier  that  readily  for 
gave  an  injury  or  an  insult.  On  the  morning  after  the  royal 
banquet,  his  batteries  opened  a  tremendous  fire  upon  Gibral- 
faro.  All  day,  the  encampment  was  wrapped  in  wreaths  of 
smoke ;  nor  did  the  assault  cease  with  the  day — but,  through 
out  the  night,  there  was  an  incessant  flashing  and  thundering 
of  the  lombards,  and,  the  following  morning,  the  assault  rather 
increased  than  slackened  in  fury.  The  Moorish  bulwarks  were 
no  proof  against  those  formidable  engines.  In  a  few  days,  the 
lofty  tower  on  which  the  taunting  banner  had  been  displayed, 
was  shattered ;  a  smaller  tower  in  its  vicinity  reduced  to  ruins, 
and  a  great  breach  made  in  the  intervening  walls. 

Several  of  the  hot-spirited  cavaliers  were  eager  for  storming 
the  breach,  sword  in  hand ;  others,  more  cool  and  wary,  pointed 
out  the  rashness  of  such  an  attempt ;  for  the  Moors  had  worked 
indefatigably  in  the  night ;  they  had  digged  a  deep  ditch  within 
the  breach,  and  had  fortified  it  with  palisadoes  and  a  high 
breastwork.  All,  however,  agreed  that  the  camp  might  safely 
be  advanced  near  to  the  ruined  walls,  and  that  it  ought  to  be 
done  so,  in  return  for  the  insolent  defiance  of  the  enemy. 

The  marques  of  Cadiz  felt  the  temerity  of  the  measure,  but 
he  was  unwilling  to  dampen  the  zeal  of  these  high-spirited 
cavaliers ;  and  having  chosen  the  post  of  danger  in  the  camp, 
it  did  not  become  him  to  decline  any  service,  merely  because 
it  might  appear  perilous.  He  ordered  his  outposts,  therefore, 
to  be  advanced  within  a  stone's-throw  of  the  breach,  but  ex 
horted  the  soldiers  to  maintain  the  utmost  vigilance. 

The  thunder  of  the  batteries  had  ceased;  the  troops,  ex 
hausted  by  two  nights'  fatigue  and  watchfulness,  and  appre 
hending  no  danger  from  the  dismantled  walls,  were  half  of 
them  asleep ;  the  rest  were  scattered  about  in  negligent  secu 
rity.  On  a  sudden,  upwards  of  two  thousand  Moors  sallied 
forth  from  the  castle,  led  on  by  Alrahan  Zenete,  the  principal 
captain  under  Hamet.  They  fell  with  fearful  havoc  upon  the 
advanced  guard,  slaying  many  of  them  in  their  sleep,  and 
putting  the  rest  to  headlong  flight. 

The  marques  was  in  his  tent,  about  a  bow-shot  distance, 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.   .  217 

when  he  heard  the  tumult  of  the  onset,  and  beheld  his  men 
flying  in  confusion.  He  rushed  forth,  followed  by  his  stan 
dard-bearer.  " Turn  again,  cavaliers  !"  exclaimed  he;  "lam 
here,  Ponce  de  Leon !  to  the  foe !  to  the  foe !"  The  flying  troops 
stopped  at  hearing  his  well-known  voice,  rallied  under  his  ban 
ner,  and  turned  upon  the  enemy.  The  encampment,  by  this 
time,  was  roused ;  several  cavaliers  from  the  adjoining  stations 
had  hastened  to  the  scene  of  action,  with  a  number  of  Gal- 
licians  and  soldiers  of  the  Holy  Brotherhood.  An  obstinate 
and  bloody  contest  ensued;  the  ruggedness  of  the  place,  the 
rocks,  chasms,  and  declivities,  broke  it  into  numerous  com 
bats  :  Christian  and  Moor  fought  hand  to  hand,  with  swords 
and  daggers;  and  often,  grappling  and  struggling,  rolled  to 
gether  down  the  precipices. 

The  banner  of  the  marques  was  in  danger  of  being  taken :  he 
hastened  to  its  rescue,  followed  by  some  of  his  bravest  cava 
liers.  They  were  surrounded  by  the  enemy,  and  several  of 
them  cut  down.  Don  Diego  Ponce  de  Leon,  brother  to  the 
marques,  was  wounded  by  an  arrow ;  and  his  son-in-law,  Luis 
Ponce,  was  likewise  wounded:  they  succeeded,  however,  in 
rescuing  the  banner,  and  bearing  it  off  in  safety.  The  battle 
lasted  for  an  hour;  the  height  was  covered  with  killed  and 
wounded,  and  the  blood  flowed  in  streams  down  the  rocks ;  at 
length,  Alrahan  Zenete  being  disabled  by  the  thrust  of  a  lance, 
the  Moors  gave  way  and  retreated  to  the  castle. 

They  now  opened  a  galling  fire  from  their  battlements  and 
towers,  approaching  the  breaches  so  as  to  discharge  their  cross 
bows  and  arquebusses  into  the  advanced  guard  of  the  encamp 
ment.  The  marques  was  singled  out ;  the  shot  fell  thick  about 
him,  and  one  passed  through  his  buckler,  and  struck  upon  his 
cuirass,  but  without  doing  him  any  injury.  Every  one  now 
saw  the  danger  and  inutility  of  approaching  the  camp  thus 
near  to  the  castle ;  and  those  who  had  counselled  it,  were  now 
urgent  that  it  should  be  withdrawn.  It  was  accordingly 
removed  back  to  its  original  ground,  from  which  the  marques 
had  most  reluctantly  advanced  it.  Nothing  but  his  valor  and 
timely  aid  had  prevented  this  attack  on  his  outpost  from  end 
ing  in  a  total  rout  of  all  that  part  of  the  army. 

Many  cavaliers  of  distinction  fell  in  this  contest ;  but  the  loss 
of  none  was  felt  more  deeply  than  that  of  Ortega  de  Prado, 
captain  of  escaladors.  He  was  one  of  the  bravest  men  in  the 
service ;  the  same  who  had  devised  the  first  successful  blow  of 
the  war,  the  storming  of  Alhama,  where  he  was  the  first  to 


218  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

plant  and  mount  the  scaling-ladders.  He  had  always  been 
high  in  the  favor  and  confidence  of  the  noble  Ponce  de  Leon, 
who  knew  how  to  appreciate  and  avail  himself  of  the  merits 
of  all  able  and  valiant  men.* 


CHAPTER  XII. 

SIEGE  OF  MALAGA  CONTINUED— STRATAGEMS    OF  VARIOUS  KINDS. 

GREAT  were  the  exertions  now  made,  both  by  the  besiegers 
and  the  besieged,  to  carry  on  this  contest  with  the  utmost 
vigor.  Hamet  el  Zegri  went  the  rounds  of  the  walls  and 
towers,  doubling  the  guards,  and  putting  every  thing  in  the 
best  posture  of  defence.  The  garrison  was  divided  into  parties 
of  a  hundred,  to  each  of  which  a  captain  was  appointed.  Some 
were  to  patrol,  others  to  sally  forth  and  skirmish  with  the 
enemy,  and  others  to  hold  themselves  armed  and  in  reserve. 
Six  albatozas,  or  floating  batteries,  were  manned  and  armed 
with  pieces  of  artillery,  to  attack  the  fleet. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  Castilian  sovereigns  kept  open  a  com 
munication  by  sea  with  various  parts  of  Spain,  from  which 
they  received  provisions  of  all  kinds ;  they  ordered  supplies  of 
powder  also  from  Valencia,  Barcelona,  Sicily,  and  Portugal. 
They  made  great  preparations  also  for  storming  the  city. 
Towers  of  wood  were  constructed,  to  move  on  wheels,  each 
capable  of  holding  one  hundred  men ;  they  were  furnished  with 
ladders,  to  be  thrown  from  their  summits  to  the  tops  of  the 
walls ;  and  within  those  ladders,  others  were  encased,  to  be  let 
down  for  the  descent  of  the  troops  into  the  city.  There  were 
gallipagos  or  tortoises,  also,  being  great  wooden  shields, 
covered  with  hides,  to  protect  the  assailants,  and  those  who 
undermined  the  walls. 

Secret  mines  were  commenced  in  various  places ;  some  were 
intended  to  reach  to  the  foundations  of  the  walls,  which  were 
to  be  propped  up  with  wood,  ready  to  be  set  on  fire ;  others 
were  to  pass  under  the  walls,  and  remain  ready  to  be  broken 
open  so  as  to  give  entrance  to  the  besiegers.  At  these  mines 
the  army  worked  day  and  night ;  and  during  these  secret  pre 
parations,  the  ordnance  kept  up  a  fire  upon  the  city,  to  divert 
the  attention  of  the  besieged. 

*Zurjtft,   Mariana,   Abarca, 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  219 

In  the  mean  time,  Hamet  el  Zegri  displayed  wonderful  vigor 
and  ingenuity  in  defending  the  city,  and  in  repairing  or  forti 
fying,  by  deep  ditches,  the  breaches  made  by  the  enemy.  He 
noted,  also,  every  place  where  the  camp  might  be  assailed  with 
advantage,  and  gave  the  besieging  army  no  repose  night  or 
day.  While  his  troops  sallied  on  the  land,  his  floating  bat 
teries  attacked  the  besiegers  on  the  sea :  so  that  there  was  in 
cessant  skirmishing.  The  tents  called  the  Queen's  Hospital 
were  crowded  with  wounded,  and  the  whole  army  suffered 
from  constant  watchfulness  and  fatigue.  To  guard  against  the 
sudden  assaults  of  the  Moors,  the  trenches  were  deepened,  and 
palisadoes  erected  in  front  of  the  camp ;  and  in  that  part  fac 
ing  Gibralfaro,  where  the  rocky  heights  did  not  admit  of  such 
defences,  a  hi^fe  rampart  of  earth  was  thrown  up.  The  cava 
liers  Garcilasso  de  la  Vega,  Juan  de  Zuniga,  and  Diego  de 
Atayde,  were  appointed  to  go  the  rounds,  and  keep  vigilant 
watch  that  these  fortifications  were  maintained  in  good  order. 

In  a  little  while,  Hamet  discovered  the  mines  secretly  com 
menced  by  the  Christians:  he  immediately  ordered  counter 
mines.  The  soldiers  mutually  worked  until  they  met,  and 
fought  hand  to  hand,  in  these  subterranean  passages.  The 
Christians  were  driven  out  of  one  of  their  mines ;  fire  was  set 
to  the  wooden  framework,  and  the  mine  destroyed.  Encour 
aged  by  this  success,  the  Moors  attempted  a  general  attack 
upon  the  camp,  the  mines,  and  the  besieging  fleet.  The  battle 
lasted  for  six  hours,  on  land  and  water,  above  and  below 
ground,  on  bulwark,  and  in  trench  and  mine ;  the  Moors  dis 
played  wonderful  intrepidity,  but  were  finally  repulsed  at  all 
points,  and  obliged  to  retire  into  the  city,  where  they  were 
closely  invested,  without  the  means  of  receiving  any  assistance 
from  abroad. 

The  horrors  of  famine  were  now  added  to  the  other  miseries 
of  Malaga.  Hamet  el  Zegri,  with  the  spirit  of  a  man  bred  up 
to  war,  considered  every  thing  as  subservient  to  the  wants  of 
the  soldier,  and  ordered  all  the  grain  in  the  city  to  be  gathered 
and  garnered  up  for  the  sole  use  of  those  who  fought.  Even 
this  was  dealt  out  sparingly,  and  each  soldier  received  four 
ounces  of  bread  in  the  morning,  and  two  in  the  evening,  for 
his  daily  allowance. 

The  wealthy  inhabitants,  and  all  those  peacefully  inclined, 
mourned  over  a  resistance  which  brought  destruction  upon 
their  houses,,  death  into  their  families,  and  which  they  saw 
must  end  in  their  ruin  and  captivity ;  still  none  of  them  dared 


220  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

to  speak  openly  of  capitulation,  or  even  to  manifest  their  grief, 
lest  they  should  awaken  the  wrath  of  their  fierce  defenders. 
They  surrounded  their  civic  champion,  Ali  Dordux,  the  great 
and  opulent  merchant,  who  had  buckled  on  shield  and  cuirass, 
and  taken  spear  in  hand,  for  the  defence  of  his  native  city, 
and,  with  a  large  body  of  the  braver  citizens,  had  charge  of 
one  of  the  gates  and  a  considerable  portion  of  the  walls.  Draw 
ing  Ali  Dordux  aside,  they  poured  forth  their  griefs  to  him  in 
secret.  "  Why,"  said  they,  "  should  we  suffer  our  native  city 
to  be  made  a  mere  bulwark  and  fighting-place  for  foreign  bar 
barians  and  desperate  men?  They  have  no  families  to  care  for, 
no  property  to  lose,  no  love  for  the  soil,  and  no  value  for  their 
lives.  They  fight  to  gratify  a  thirst  for  blood  or  a  desire  for 
revenge,  and  will  fight  on  until  Malaga  becomes  a  ruin  and  its 
people  slaves.  Let  us  think  and  act  for  ourselves,  our  wives, 
and  our  children.  Let  us  make  private  terms  with  the  Chris 
tians  before  it  is  too  late,  and  save  ourselves  from  destruction." 

The  bowels  of  Ali  Dordux  yearned  towards  his  fellow-citizens ; 
he  bethought  him  also  of  the  sweet  security  of  peace,  and  the 
bloodless  yet  gratifying  triumphs  of  gainful  traffic.  The  idea 
also  of  a  secret  negotiation  or  bargain  with  the  Castilian  sover 
eigns,  for  the  redemption  of  his  native  city,  was  more  conform 
able  to  his  accustomed  habits  than  this  violent  appeal  to  arms ; 
for  though  he  had  for  a  time  assumed  the  warrior,  he  had  not 
forgotten  the  merchant.  Ali  Dordux  communed,  therefore, 
with  the  citizen-soldiers  under  his  command,  and  they  readily 
conformed  to  his  opinion.  Concerting  together,  they  wrote  a 
proposition  to  the  Castilian  sovereigns,  offering  to  admit  the 
army  into  the  part  of  the  city  intrusted  to  their  care,  on  receiv 
ing  assurance  of  protection  for  the  lives  and  properties  of  the 
inhabitants.  This  writing  they  delivered  to  a  trusty  emissary 
to  take  to  the  Christian  camp,  appointing  the  hour  and  place 
of  his  return,  that  they  might  be  ready  to  admit  him  unper- 
ceived. 

The  Moor  made  his  way  in  safety  to  the  camp,  and  was 
admitted  to  the  presence  of  the  sovereigns.  Eager  to  gain  the 
city  without  further  cost  of  blood  or  treasure,  they  gave  a 
written  promise  to  grant  the  conditions ;  and  the  Moor  set  out 
joyfully  on  his  return.  As  he  approached  the  walls  where  Ali 
Dordux  and  his  confederates  were  waiting  to  receive  htm,  he 
was  descried  by  a  patrolling  band  of  Gomeres,  and  considered 
a  spy  coming  from  the  camp  of  the  besiegers.  They  issued 
forth  and  seized  him,  in  sight  of  his  employers,  who  gave  them- 


CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

selves  up  for  lost.  The  Gomeres  had  conducted  him  nearly  to 
the  gate,  when  he  escaped  from  their  grasp  and  fled.  They  en 
deavored  to  overtake  him,  but  were  encumbered  with  armor ; 
he  was  lightly  clad,  and  fled  for  his  life.  One  of  the  Gomeres 
paused,  and,  levelling  his  cross-bow,  let  fly  a  bolt,  which 
pierced  the  fugitive  between  the  shoulders ;  he  fell,  and  was 
nearly  within  their  grasp,  but  rose  again,  and  with  a  desperate 
effort  attained  the  Christian  camp.  The  Gomeres  gave  over  the 
pursuit,  and  the  citizens  returned  thanks  to  Allah  for  their  de 
liverance  from  this  fearful  peril.  As  to  the  faithful  messenger, 
he  died  of  his  wound  shortly  after  reaching  the  camp,  consoled 
with  the  idea  that  he  had  preserved  the  secret  and  the  lives  of 
his  employers. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

SUFFERINGS  OF  THE   PEOPLE  OF  MALAGA. 

THE  sufferings  of  Malaga  spread  sorrow  and  anxiety  among 
the  Moors ;  and  they  dreaded  lest  this  beautiful  city,  once  the 
bulwark  of  the  kingdom,  should  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  un 
believers.  The  old  warrior  king,  Abdallah  el  Zagal,  was  still 
sheltered  in  Guadix,  where  he  was  slowly  gathering  together 
his  shattered  forces.  When  the  people  of  Guadix  heard  of  the 
danger  and  distress  of  Malaga,  they  urged  to  be  led  to  its 
relief ;  and  the  alfaquis  admonished  El  Zagal  not  to  desert  so 
righteous  and  loyal  a  city,  in  its  extremity.  His  own  warlike 
nature  made  him  feel  a  sympathy  for  a  place  that  made  so  gal 
lant  a  resistance ;  and  he  dispatched  as  powerful  a  reinforce 
ment  as  he  could  spare,  under  conduct  of  a  chosen  captain, 
with  orders  to  throw  themselves  into  the  city. 

Intelligence  of  this  reinforcement  reached  Boabdil  el  Chico,  in 
his  royal  palace  of  the  Alhambra.  Filled  with  hostility  against 
his  uncle,  and  desirous  of  proving  his  loyalty  to  the  Castilian 
sovereigns,  he  immediately  sent  forth  a  superior  force  of  horse 
and  foot,  under  an  able  commander,  to  intercept  the  detach 
ment.  A  sharp  conflict  ensued ;  the  troops  of  El  Zagal  were 
routed  with  great  loss,  and  fled  back  in  confusion  to  Guadix. 

Boabdil,  not  being  accustomed  to  victories,  was  flushed  with 
his  melancholy  triumph.  He  sent  tidings  of  it  to  the  Castilian 
Sovereigns,  accompanied  with  rich  silks,  boxes  of  Arabian  per- 


222  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

fume,  a  cup  of  gold,  richly  wrought,  and  a  female  captive  of 
Ubeda,  as  presents  to  the  queen ;  and  four  Arabian  steeds  mag 
nificently  caparisoned,  a  sword  and  dagger  richly  mounted, 
and  several  albornozes  and  other  robes  sumptuously  embroi 
dered,  for  the  king.  He  entreated  them  at  the  same  time, 
always  to  look  upon  him  with  favor  as  their  devoted  vassal. 

Boabdil  was  fated  to  be  unfortunate  even  in  his  victories. 
His  defeat  of  the  forces  of  his  uncle,  destined  to  the  relief  of 
unhappy  Malaga,  shocked  the  feelings  and  cooled  the  loyalty 
of  many  of  his  best  adherents.  The  mere  men  of  traffic  might 
rejoice  in  their  golden  interval  of  peace ;  but  the  chivalrous 
spirits  of  Granada  spurned  a  security  purchased  by  such  sacri 
fices  of  pride  and  affection.  The  people  at  large,  having  grati 
fied  their  love  of  change,  began  to  question  whether  they  had 
acted  generously  by  their  old  fighting  monarch.  "ElZagal," 
said  they,  ' '  was  fierce  and  bloody,  but  then  he  was  true  to  his 
country ;  he  was  an  usurper,  it  is  true,  but  then  he  maintained 
the  glory  of  the  crown  which  he  usurped.  If  his  sceptre  was  a 
rod  of  iron  to  his  subjects,  it  was  a  sword  of  steel  against  their 
enemies.  This  Boabdil  sacrifices  religion,  friends,  country, 
every  thing,  to  a  mere  shadow  of  royalty,  and  is  content  to  hold 
a  rush  for  a  sceptre. " 

These  factious  murmurs  soon  reached  the  ears  of  Boabdil, 
and  he  apprehended  another  of  his  customary  reverses.  He 
sent  in  all  haste  to  the  Castilian  sovereigns,  beseeching  military 
aid  to  keep  him  on  his  throne.  Ferdinand  graciously  complied 
with  a  request  so  much  in  unison  with  his  policy.  A  detach 
ment  of  one  thousand  cavalry,  and  two  thousand  infantry,  was 
sent,  under  the  command  of  Don  Fernandez  Gonsalvo  of  Cor 
dova,  subsequently  renowned  as  the  great  captain.  With  this 
succor,  Boabdil  expelled  from  the  city  all  those  who  were  hos 
tile  to  him,  and  in  favor  of  his  uncle.  He  felt  secure  in  these 
troops,  from  their  being  distinct  in  manners,  language,  and  re 
ligion,  from  his  subjects ;  and  compromised  with  his  pride,  in 
thus  exhibiting  that  most  unnatural  and  humiliating  of  all 
regal  spectacles,  a  monarch  supported  on  his  throne  by  foreign 
weapons,  and  by  soldiers  hostile  to  his  people. 

Nor  was  Boabdil  el  Chico  the  only  Moorish  sovereign  that 
sought  protection  from  Ferdinand  and*  Isabella.  A  splendid 
galley,  with  latine  sails,  and  several  banks  of  oars,  displaying 
the  standard  of  the  crescent,  but  likewise  a  white  flag  in  sign 
of  amity,  came  one  day  into  the  harbor.  An  ambassador 
\anded  from  it,  within  the  Christian  lines.  He  came  from  the 


THE  CONQUEST  OP  GRANADA.  223 

king  of  Tremezan,  and  brought  presents  similar  to  those  of 
Boabdil,  consisting  of  Arabian  coursers,  with  bits,  stirrups, 
and  other  furniture  of  gold,  together  with  costly  Moorish  man 
tles:  for  the  queen,  there  were  sumptuous  shawls,  robes,  and 
silken  stuffs,  ornaments  of  gold,  and  exquisite  oriental  per 
fumes. 

The  king  of  Tremezan  had  been  alarmed  at  the  rapid  con 
quests  of  the  Spanish  arms,  and  startled  by  the  descent  of 
several  Spanish  cruisers  on  the  coast  of  Africa.  He  craved  to 
be  considered  a  vassal  to  the  Castilian  sovereigns,  and  that 
they  would  extend  such  favor  and  security  to  his  ships  and 
subjects  as  had  been  shown  to  other  Moors  who  had  submitted 
to  their  sway.  He  requested  a  painting  of  their  arms,  that  he 
and  his  subjects  might  recognize  and  respect  their  standard, 
whenever  they  encountered  it.  At  the  tame  time  he  implored 
their  clemency  towards  unhappy  Malaga,  and  that  its  inhabi 
tants  might  experience  the  same  favor  that  had  been  shown 
towards  the  Moors  of  other  captured  cities. 

The  embassy  was  graciously  received  by  the  Christian  sove 
reigns.  They  granted  the  protection  required ;  ordering  their 
commanders  to  respect  the  flag  of  Tremezan,  unless  it  should 
be  found  rendering  assistance  to  the  enemy.  They  sent  also 
to  the  Barbary  monarch  their  royal  arms,  moulded  in  escutch 
eons  of  gold,  a  hand's-breadth  in  size.* 

While  thus  the  chances  of  assistance  from  without  daily  de 
creased,  famine  raged  in  the  city.  The  inhabitants  were  com 
pelled  to  eat  the  flesh  of  horses,  and  many  died  of  hunger. 
What  made  the  sufferings  of  the  citizens  the  more  intolerable, 
was,  to  behold  the  sea  covered  with  ships,  daily  arriving  with 
provisions  for  the  besiegers.  Day  after  day,  also,  they  saw 
1-nrds  of  fat  cattle,  and  flocks  of  sheep,  driven  into  the  camp. 
Wheat  and  flour  were  piled  in  huge  mounds  in  the  centre  of 
^ift  encampments,  glaring  in  the  sunshine,  and  tantalizing  the 
.  retched  citizens,  who,  while  they  and  their  children  were 
.'••rishing  with  hunger,  beheld  prodigal  abundance  reigning 

ithin  a  bow-shot  of  their  walls. 


*  Cura  de  los  Palacios,  c.  84.    Pulgar,  part  3,  c.  86. 


THE  CONQUKST  OF  GRANADA. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

HOT/  A  MOORISH   SANTON  UNDERTOOK  TO    DELIVER  THE    CITY  OF 
MALAGA  FROM  THE   POWER  OF  ITS  ENEMIES. 

THERE  lived  at  this  time,  in  a  hamlet  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Guadix,  an  ancient  Moor,  of  the  name  of  Abrahin  Algerbi. 
lie  was  a  native  of  Guerba,  in  the  kingdom  of  Tunis,  and  had 
for  several  years  led  the  life  of  a  santon  or  hermit.  The  hot 
sun  of  Africa  had  dried  his  blood,  and  rendered  him  of  an  ex 
alted  yet  melancholy  temperament.  He  passed  most  of  his 
time  in  meditation,  prayer,  and  rigorous  abstinence,  until  his 
body  was  wasted  and  his  mind  bewildered,  and  he  fancied  him 
self  favored  with  divine  revelations.  The  Moors,  who  have  a 
great  reverence  for  all  enthusiasts  of  the  kind,  looked  upon 
him  as  inspired,  listened  to  all  his  ravings  as  veritable  prophe 
cies,  and  denominated  him  el  santo,  or  the  saint. 

The  woes  of  the  kingdom  of  Granada  had  long  exasperated 
the  gloomy  spirit  of  this  man,  and  he  had  beheld  with  indigna 
tion  this  beautiful  country  wrested  from  the  dominion  of  the 
faithful,  and  becoming  a  prey  to  the  unbelievers.  He  had 
implored  the  blessings  of  Allah  on  the  troops  which  issued 
forth  from  Guadix  for  the  relief  of  Malaga;  but  when  he  saw 
them  return,  routed  and  scattered  by  their  own  countrymen, 
he  retired  to  his  cell,  shut  himself  up  from  the  world,  and  was 
plunged  for  a  time  in  the  blackest  melancholy. 

On  a  sudden,  he  made  his  appearance  again  in  the  streets  of 
Guadix,  his  face  haggard,  his  form  emaciated,  but  his  eye 
beaming  with  fire.  He  said  that  Allah  had  sent  an  angel  to 
him  in  the  solitude  of  his  cell,  revealing  to  him  a  mode  of  de 
livering  Malaga  from  its  perils,  and  striking  horror  and  con 
fusion  into  the  camp  of  the  unbelievers.  The  Moors  listened 
with  eager  credulity  to  his  words :  four  hundred  of  them  of 
fered  to  follow  him  even  to  the  death,  and  to  obey  implicitly 
1  is  commands.  Of  this  number  many  were  Gomeres,  anxious 
to  relieve  their  countrymen,  who  formed  part  of  the  garrison 
of  Malaga. 

They  traversed  the  kingdom  by  the  wild  and  lonely  passes 
of  the  mountains,  concealing  themselves  in  the  day  and  travel 
ling  only  in  the  night,  to  elude  the  Christian  scouts.  At  length 
they  arrived  at  the  mountains  which  tower  above  Malaga,  and, 


<  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  225 

looking  down,  beheld  the  city  completely  invested ;  a  chain  of 
encampments  extending  round  it  from  shore  to  shore,  and  a 
line  of  ships  blockading  it  by  sea ;  while  the  continual  thunder 
of  artillery,  and  the  smoke  rising  in  various  p*rts,  showed  that 
the  siege  was  pressed  with  great  activity.  The  hermit  scanned 
the  encampments  warily,  from  his  lofty  height.  He  saw  that 
the  part  of  the  encampment  of  the  marques  of  Cadiz  which 
was  at  the  foot  of  the  height,  and  on  the  margin  of  the  sea, 
was  most  assailable,  the  rocky  soil  not  admitting  ditches  or 
palisadoes.  Remaining  concealed  all  day,  he  descended  with 
his  followers  at  night  to  the  sea-coast,  and  approached  silently 
to  the  outworks.  He  had  given  them  their  instructions ;  they 
were  to  rush  suddenly  upon  the  camp,  fight  their  way  through, 
an.d  throw  themselves  into  the  city. 

It  was  just  at  the  gray  of  the  dawning,  when  objects  are 
obscurely  visible,  that  they  made  this  desperate  attempt. 
Some  sprang  suddenly  upon  the  sentinels,  others  rushed  into 
the  sea  and  got  round  the  works,  others  clambered  over  the 
breastworks.  There  was  sharp  skirmishing;  a  great  part  of 
the  Moors  were  cut  to  pieces,  but  about  two  hundred  succeeded 
in  getting  into  the  gates  of  Malaga. 

The  santon  took  no  part  in  the  conflict,  nor  did  he  endeavor 
to  enter  the  city.  His  plans  were  of  a  different  nature.  Draw 
ing  apart  from  the  battle,  he  threw  himself  on  his  knees  on  u 
rising  ground,  and,  lifting  "his  hands  to  Heaven,  appeared  to 
be  absorbed  in  prayer.  The  Christians,  as  they  were  search 
ing  for  fugitives  in  the  clefts  of  the  rocks,  found  him  at  his  de 
votions.  He  stirred  not  at  their  approach,  but  remained  fixed 
as  a  statue,  without  changing  color  or  moving  a  muscle. 
Filled  with  surprise  not  unmingled  with  awe,  they  took  him 
to  the  marques  of  Cadiz.  He  was  wrapped  in  a  coarse  albor- 
noz,  or  Moorish  mantle;  his  beard  was  long  and  grizzled,  and 
there  was  something  wild  and  melancholy  in  his  look,  that  in 
spired  curiosity.  On  being  examined,  he  gave  himself  out  as 
a  saint  to  whom  Allah  had  revealed  the  events  that  were  to 
take  place  in  that  siege.  The  marques  demanded  when  and 
how  Malaga  was  to  be  taken.  He  replied  that  he  knew  full 
well,  but  he  was  forbidden  to  reveal  those  important  secrets 
except  to  the  king  and  queen.  The  good  marques  was  not 
more  given  to  superstitious  fancies  than  other  commanders  of 
his  time,  yet  there  seemed  something  singular  and  mysterious 
about  this  man ;  he  might  have  some  important  intelligence  to 
communicate ;  so  he  was  persuaded  to  send  him  to  the  king 


226         THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

and  queen.  He  was  conducted  to  the  royal  tent,  surrounded 
by  a  curious  multitude,  exclaiming  ' '  El  Moro  Santo  /"  for  the 
news  had  spread  through  the  camp,  that  they  had  taken  a 
Moorish  prophet. 

The  king,  having  dined,  was  taking  his  siesta,  or  afternoon's 
sleep,  in  his  tent;  and  the  queen,  though  curious  to  see  this 
singular  man,  yet,  from  a  natural  delicacy  and  reserve,  delayed 
until  the  king  should  be  present.  He  was  taken  therefore  to 
an  adjoining  tent,  in  which  were  Doiia  Beatrix  de  Bovadilla, 
marchioness  of  Moya,  and  Don  Alvaro  of  Portugal,  son  of  the 
duke  of  Braganza,  with  two  or  three  attendants.  The  Moor, 
ignorant  of  the  Spanish  tongue,  had  not  understood  the  con 
versation  of  the  guards,  and  supposed,  from  the  magnificence 
of  the  furniture  and  the  silken  hangings,  that  this  was  the 
royal  tent.  From  the  respect  paid  by  the  attendants  to  Don 
Alvaro  and  the  marchioness,  he  concluded  that  they  were  the 
king  and  queen. 

He  now  asked  for  a  draught  of  water ;  a  jar  was  brought  to 
him,  and  the  guard  released  his  arm  to  enable  him  to  drink. 
The  marchioness  perceived  a  sudden  change  in  his  countenance, 
and  something  sinister  in  the  expression  of  his  eye,  and  shifted 
her  position  to  a  more  remote  part  of  the  tent.  Pretending  to 
raise  the  water  to  his  lips,  the  Moor  unfolded  his  albornoz,  so 
as  to  grasp  a  scimitar  which  he  wore  concealed  beneath ;  then, 
dashing  down  the  jar,  he  drew  his  weapon,  and  gave  Don. 
Alvaro  a  blow  on  the  head,  that  struck  him  to  the  earth,  and 
nearly  deprived  him  of  life.  Turning  then  upon  the  marchion 
ess,  he  made  a  violent  blow  at  her ;  but  in  his  eagerness  and 
agitation,  his  scimitar  caught  in  the  drapery  of  the  tent ;  the 
force  of  the  blow  was  broken,  and  the  weapon  struck  harmless 
upon  some  golden  ornaments  of  her  head-dress.* 

Ruy  Lopez  de  Toledo,  treasurer  to  the  queen,  and  Juan  de 
Belalcazar,  a  sturdy  friar,  who  were  present,  grappled  and 
struggled  with  the  desperado;  and  immediately  the  guards, 
who  had  conducted  him  from  the  marques  de  Cadiz,  foil  upon 
him  and  cut  him  to  pieces,  t 

The  king  and  queen,  brought  out  of  their  tents  by  the  noise, 
were  filled  with  horror  when  they  learned  the  imminent  peril 
from  which  they  had  escaped.  The  mangled  body  of  the  Moor 
was  taken  by  the  people  to  the  camp,  and  thrown  into  the  city 
from  a  catapult.  The  Gomeres  gathered  up  the  body  with  deep 

*  Pietro  Martyr,  Epist.  62.  t  Cura  de  los  Palacios, 


THE!  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  227 

reverence,  as  the  remains  of  a  saint;  they  washed  and  per 
fumed  it,  and  buried  it  with  great  honor  and  loud  lamentations. 
In  revenge  of  his  death,  they  slew  one  of  their  principal  Chris- 
•ian  captives,  and,  having  tied  his  body  upon  an  ass,  they  drove 
the  animal  forth  into  the  camp. 

From  this  time,  there  was  appointed  an  additional  guard 
around  the  tents  of  the  king  and  queen,  composed  of  twelve 
hundred  cavaliers  of  rank,  of  the  kingdoms  of  Castile  and 
Arragon.  No  person  was  admitted  to  the  royal  presence  armed ; 
no  Moor  was  allowed  to  enter  the  camp,  without  a  previous 
knowledge  of  his  character  and  business ;  and  on  no  account 
was  any  Moor  to  be  introduced  into  the  presence  of  the  sover 
eigns. 

An  act  of  treachery  of  such  ferocious  nature,  gave  rise  to  a 
train  of  gloomy  apprehensions.  There  were  many  cabins  and 
sheds  about  the  camp,  constructed  of  branches  of  trees  which 
had  become  dry  and  combustible ;  and  fears  were  entertained 
that  they  might  be  set  on  fire  by  the  Mudexares,  or  Moorish 
vassals,  who  visited  the  army.  Some  even  dreaded  that  at 
tempts  might  be  made  to  poison  the  wells  and  fountains.  To 
quiet  these  dismal  alarms,  all  Mudexares  were  ordered  to  leave 
the  camp ;  and  all  loose,  idle  loiterers,  who  could  not  give  a 
good  account  of  themselves,  were  taken  into  custody. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

HOW  HAMET  EL  ZEGRI  WAS  HARDENED    IN    HIS    OBSTINACY,    BY 
THE  ARTS  OF  A  MOORISH  ASTROLOGER. 

AMONG  those  followers  of  the  santon  that  had  effected  their 
entrance  into  the  city,  was  a  dark  African  of  the  tribe  of  the 
Gomores,  who  was  likewise  a  hermit  or  dervise,  and  passed 
among  the  Moors  for  a  holy  and  inspired  man.  No  sooner 
were  the  mangled  remains  of  his  predecessor  buried  with  the 
honors  of  martyrdom,  than  this  dervise  elevated  himself  in  his 
place,  and  professed  to  be  gifted  with  the  spirit  of  prophecy. 
He  displayed  a  white  banner,  which,  he  assured  the  Moors,  was 
sacred ;  that  he  had  retained  it  for  twenty  years  for  some  signal 
purpose,  and  that  Allah  had  revealed  to  him  that  under  that 
banner  the  inhabitants  of  Malaga  should  sally  forth  upon  the 


228  TIIE  CONQUEST  OP  GHANADA. 

camp  of  the  unbelievers,  put  it  to  utter  rout,  and  banquet  upon 
the  provisions  in  which  it  abounded.*  The  hungry  and  credu 
lous  Moors  were  elated  at  this  prediction,  and  cried  out  to  be 
led  forth  at  once  to  the  attack ;  but  the  dervise  told  them  the 
time  was  not  yet  arrived,  for  every  event-had  its  allotted  day  in 
the  decrees  of  fate ;  they  must  wait  patiently,  therefore,  until 
the  appointed  time  should  be  revealed  to  him  by  Heaven. 
Hamet  el  Zegri  listened  to  the  dervise  with  profound  reverence, 
and  his  example  had  great  effect  in  increasing  the  awe  and 
deference  of  his  followers.  He  took  the  holy  man  up  into  his 
strong-hold  of  Gibralfaro,  consulted  him  on  all  occasions,  and 
hung  out  his  white  banner  on  the  loftiest  tower,  as  a  signal  of 
encouragement  to  the  people  of  the  city. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  prime  chivalry  of  Spain  was  gradually 
assembling  before  the  walls  of  Malaga.  The  army  which  had 
commenced  the  siege  had  been  worn  out  by  extreme  hardships, 
having  had  to  construct  immense  works,  to  dig  trenches  and 
mines,  to  mount  guard  by  sea  and  land,  to  patrol  the  moun 
tains,  and  to  sustain  incessant  conflicts.  The  sovereigns  were 
obliged,  therefore,  to  call  upon  various  distant  cities,  for  rein 
forcements  of  horse  and  foot.  Many  nobles,  also,  assembled 
their  vassels,  and  repaired,  of  their  own  accord,  to  the  royal 
camp. 

Every  little  while,  some  stately  galley  or  gallant  caravel 
would  stand  into  the  harbor,  displaying  the  well-known  banner 
of  some  Spanish  cavalier,  and  thundering  from  its  artillery  a 
salutation  to  the  sovereigns  and  a  defiance  to  the  Moors.  On 
the  land  side  also,  reinforcements  would  be  seen,  winding  down 
from  the  mountains  to  the  sound  of  drum  and  trumpet,  and 
marching  into  the  camp  with  glistening  arms,  as  yet  unsullied 
by  the  toils  of  war. 

One  morning,  the  whole  sea  was  whitened  by  the  sails  and 
vexed  by  the  oars  of  ships  and  galleys  bearing  towards  the 
port.  One  hundred  vessels  of  various  kinds  and  sizes  arrived, 
some  armed  for  warlike  service,  others  deep  freighted  with 
provisions.  At  the  same  time,  the  clangor  of  drum  and  trum 
pet  bespoke  the  arrival  of  a  powerful  force  by  land,  which 
came  pouring  in  lengthening  columns  into  the  camp.  This 
mighty  reinforcement  was  furnished  by  the  duke  of  Medina 
Sidonia,  who  reigned  like  a  petty  monarch  over  his  vast  pos 
sessions.  He  came  with  this  princely  force,  a  volunteer  to  the 

*  Cura  de  los  Palaeios. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GEANADA.  229 

royal  standard,  not  having  been  summoned  by  the  sovereigns ; 
and  he  brought,  moreover,  a  loan  of  twenty  thousand  doblas 
of  gold. 

When  the  camp  was  thus  powerfully  reinforced,  Isabella 
advised  that  new  offers  of  an  indulgent  kind  should  be  made 
to  the  inhabitants ;  for  she  was  anxious  to  prevent  the  miseries 
of  a  protracted  siege,  or  the  effusion  of  blood  that  must  attend 
a  general  attack.  A  fresh  summons  was,  therefore,  sent  for 
the  city  to  surrender,  with  a  promise  of  life,  liberty,  and  pro 
perty,  in  case  of  immediate  compliance;  but  denouncing  all 
the  horrors  of  war,  if  the  defence  were  obstinately  continued. 

Hamet  el  Zegri  again  rejected  the  offer  with  scorn.  His 
main  fortifications  as  yet  were  but  little  impaired,  and  were 
capable  of  holding  out  much  longer ;  he  trusted  to  the  thou 
sand  evils  and  accidents  that  beset  a  besieging  army,  and  to 
the  inclemencies  of  the  approaching  season ;  and  it  is  said  that 
he,  as  well  as  his  followers,  had  an  infatuated  belief  in  the  pre 
dictions  of  the  dervise. 

The  worthy  Fray  Antonio  Agapida  does  not  scruple  to 
affirm,  that  the  pretended  prophet  of  the  city  was  an  arch 
nigromancer,  or  Moorish  magician,  ' '  of  which  there  be  count 
less  many,"  says  he,  "in  the  filthy  sect  of  Mahomet;"  and 
that  he  was  leagued  with  the  prince  of  the  powers  of  the  air, 
to  endeavor  to  work  the  confusion  and  defeat  of  the  Christian 
army.  The  worthy  father  asserts,  also,  that  Hamet  employed 
him  in  a  high  tower  of  the  Gibralfaro,  which  commanded  a 
wide  view  over  sea  and  land,  where  he  wrought  spells  and 
incantations  with  astrolabes  and  other  diabolical  instruments, 
to  defeat  the  Christian  ships  and  forces,  whenever  they  were 
engaged  with  the  Moors. 

To  the  potent  spells  of  this  sorcerer,  he  ascribes  the  perils 
and  losses  sustained  by  a  party  of  cavaliers  of  the  royal  house 
hold,  in  a  desperate  combat  to  gain  two  towers  of  the  suburb, 
near  the  gate  of  the  city  called  la  Puerto  de  Granada.  The 
Christians,  led  on  by  Ruy  Lopez  de  Toledo,  the  valiant  trea 
surer  of  the  queen,  took,  and  lost,  and  retook  the  towers, 
which  were  finally  set  on  fire  by  the  Moors,  and  abandoned  to 
the  flames  by  both  parties.  To  the  same  malignant  influence 
he  attributes  the  damage  done  to  the  Christian  fleet,  which 
was  so  vigorously  assailed  by  the  albatozas,  or  floating  bat 
teries  of  the  Moors,  that  one  ship,  belonging  to  the  duke  of 
Medina  Sidonia,  was  sunk,  and  the  rest  were  obliged  to  retire. 

"Hamet  el  Zegri,"  says  Fray  Antonio  Agapida,  "stood  on 


230  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

the  top  of  the  high  tower  of  Gibralfaro,  and  beheld  this  injury 
wrought  upon  the  Christian  force,  and  his  proud  heart  was 
puffed  up.  And  the  Moorish  nigromancer  stood  beside  him. 
And  he  pointed  out  to  him  the  Christian  host  below,  encamped 
on  every  eminence  around  the  city,  and  covering  its  fertile  val 
ley,  and  the  many  ships  floating  upon  the  tranquil  sea ;  and  he 
bade  him  be  strong  of  heart,  for  that  in  a  few  days  all  this 
mighty  fleet  would  be  scattered  by  the  winds  of  Heaven ;  and 
that  he  should  sally  forth,  under  guidance  of  the  sacred  ban 
ner,  and  attack  this  host  and  utterly  defeat  it,  and  make  spoil 
of  those  sumptuous  tents ;  and  Malaga  should  be  triumphantly 
revenged  upon  her  assailants.  So  the  heart  of  Hamet  was 
hardened  like  that  of  Pharaoh,  and  he  persisted  in  setting  at 
defiance  the  Catholic  sovereigns  and  their  army  of  saintly 
warriors." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

SIEGE    OP    MALAGA   CONTINUED— DESTRUCTION    OF    A   TOWER,    BY 
FRANCISCO  RAMIREZ  DE  MADRID. 

SEEING  the  infatuated  obstinacy  of  the  besieged,  the  Chris 
tians  now  approached  their  works  to  the  walls,  gaining  one 
position  after  another,  preparatory  to  a  general  assault.  Near 
the  barrier  of  the  city  was  a  bridge  with  four  arches,  defended 
at  each  end  by  a  strong  and  lofty  tower,  by  which  a  part  of 
the  army  would  have  to  pass  in  making  an  attack.  The  com- 
mander-in-chief  of  the  artillery,  Francisco  Ramirez  de  Madrid, 
was  ordered  to  take  possession  of  this  bridge.  The  approach 
to  it  was  perilous  in  the  extreme,  from  the  exposed  situation 
of  the  assailants,  and  the  number  of  Moors  that  garrisoned  the 
towers.  Francisco  Ramirez,  therefore,  secretly  excavated  a 
mine  leading  beneath  the  first  tower,  and  placed  a  piece  of 
ordnance  with  its  mouth  upwards,  immediately  under  the 
foundation,  with  a  train  of  powder  to  produce  an  explosion  at 
the  necessary  moment. 

When  this  was  arranged,  he  advanced  slowly  with  his  forces 
in  face  of  the  towers,  erecting  bulwarks  at  every  step,  and 
gradually  gaining  ground,  until  he  arrived  near  to  the  bridge. 
He  then  planted  several  pieces  of  artillery  in  his  works,  and 
began  to  batter  the  tower.  The  Moors  replied  bravely  from 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  231 

their  battlements ;  but  in  the  heat  of  the  combat,  the  piece  of 
ordnance  under  the  foundation  was  discharged.  The  earth  was* 
rent  open,  a  part  of  the  tower  overthrown,  and  several  of  the 
Moors  torn  to  pieces ;  the  rest  took  to  flight,  overwhelmed  with 
terror  at  this  thundering  explosion  bursting  beneath  their  feet, 
and  at  beholding  the  earth  vomiting  flames  and  smoke ;  for 
never  before  had  they  witnessed  such  a  stratagem  in  warfare. 
The  Christians  rushed  forward  and  took  possession  of  the 
abandoned  post,  and  immediately  commenced  an  attack  upon 
the  other  tower  at  the  opposite  end  of  the  bridge,  to  which  the 
Moors  had  retired.  An  incessant  fire  of  cross-bows  and  arque- 
busses  was  kept  up  between  the  rival  towers,  volleys  of  stones 
were  discharged,  and  no  one  dared  to  venture  upon  the  inter 
mediate  bridge. 

Francisco  de  Ramirez  at  length  renewed  his  former  mode  of 
approach,  making  bulwarks  step  by  step,  while  the  Moors, 
stationed  at  the  other  end,  swept  the  bridge  with  their  artil 
lery.  The  combat  was  long  and  bloody, — furious  on  the  part 
of  the  Moors,  patient  and  persevering  on  the  part  of  the  Chris 
tians.  By  slow  degrees,  they  accomplished  their  advance 
across  the  bridge,  drove  the  enemy  before  them,  and  remained 
masters  of  this  important  pass. 

For  this  valiant  and  skilful  achievement,  king  Ferdinand, 
after  the  surrender  of  the  city,  conferred  the  dignity  of  knight 
hood  upon  Francisco  Ramirez,  in  the  tower  which  he  had  so 
gloriously  gained.*  The  worthy  padre  Fray  Antonio  Agapida 
indulges  in  more  than  a  page  of  extravagant  eulogy,  upon  this 
invention  of  blowing  up  the  foundation  of  the  tower  by  a  piece 
of  ordnance,  which  he  affirms  to  be  the  first  instance  on  record 
of  gunpowder  being  used  in  a  mine. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

HOW  THE    PEOPLE  OF    MALAGA    EXPOSTULATED  WITH    HAMET  EL 

ZEGRI. 

WHILE  the  dervise  was  deluding  the  garrison  of  Malaga  with 
vain  hopes,  the  famine  increased  to  a  terrible  degree.  The 
Gomeres  ranged  about  the  city  as  though  it  had  been  a  con 
quered  place,  taking  by  force  whatever  they  found  eatable  in 

*  Pulgar,  part  3,  c.  91. 


232  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

the  houses  of  the  peaceful  citizens ;  and  breaking  open  vaults 
and  cellars,  and  demolishing  walls,  wherever  they  thought 
provisions  might  be  concealed. 

The  wretched  inhabitants  had  no  longer  bread  to  eat;  the 
horse-flesh  also  now  failed  them,  and  they  were  fain  to  devour 
skins  and  hides  toasted  at  the  fire,  and  to  assuage  the  hunger 
of  their  children  with  vine-leaves  cut  up  and  fried  in  oil. 
Many  perished  of  famine,  or  of  the  unwholesome  food  with 
which  they  endeavored  to  relieve  it;  and  many  took  refuge 
in  the  Christian  camp,  preferring  captivity  to  the  horrors 
which  surrounded  them. 

At  length  the  sufferings  of  the  inhabitants  became  so  great, 
as  to  conquer  even  their  fears  of  Hamet  and  his  Gomeres. 
They  assembled  before  the  house  of  Ah  Dordux,  the  wealthy 
merchant,  whose  stately  mansion  was  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  of 
the  Alcazaba,  and  they  urged  him  to  stand  forth  as  their 
leader,  and  to  intercede  with  Hamet  el  Zegri  for  a  surrender. 
Ali  Dordux  was  a  man  of  courage,  as  well  as  policy ;  he  per 
ceived  also  that  hunger  was  giving  boldness  to  the  citizens, 
while  he  trusted  it  was  subduing  the  fierceness  of  the  soldiery. 
He  armed  blmself,  therefore,  cap-a-pie,  and  undertook  this 
dangerous  parley  with  the  alcayde.  He  associated  with  him 
an  alfaqui  named  Abrahen  Alharis,  and  an  important  inhabi 
tant  named  Amar  ben  Amar ;  and  they  ascended  to  the  for 
tress  of  Gibralfaro,  followed  by  several  of  the  trembling  mer 
chants. 

They  found  Hamet  el  Zegri,  not,  as  before,  surrounded  by 
ferocious  guards  and  all  the  implements  of  war;  but  in  a 
chamber  of  one  of  the  lofty  towers,  at  a  table  of  stone,  covered 
with  scrolls  traced  with  strange  characters  and  mystic  dia 
grams  ;  while  instruments  of  singular  and  unknown  form  lay 
about  the  room.  Beside  Hamet  el  Zegri  stood  the  prophetic 
dervise,  who  appeared  to  have  been  explaining  to  him  the  mys 
terious  inscriptions  of  the  scrolls.  His  presence  filled  the  citi 
zens  with  awe,  for  even  Ali  Dordux  considered  him  a  man  in 
spired. 

The  alfaqui  Abrahen  Alharis,  whose  sacred  character  gave 
him  boldness  to  speak,  now  lifted  up  his  voice,  and  addressed 
Hamet  el  Zegri.  "We  implore  you,"  said  he,  solemnly,  "in 
the  name  of  the  most  powerful  God,  no  longer  to  persist  in  a 
vain  resistance,  which  mast  end  in  our  destruction,  but  de 
liver  up  the  city  while  clemency  is  yet  to  be  obtained.  Think 
how  many  of  our  warriors  have  fallen  by  the  sword ;  do  not 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  233 

suffer  those  who  survive  to  perish  by  famine.  Our  wives  and 
children  cry  to  us  for  bread,  and  we  have  none  to  give  them. 
We  see  them  expire  in  lingering  agony  before  our  eyes,  while 
the  enemy  mocks  our  misery  by  displaying  the  abundance  of 
his  camp.  Of  what  avail  is  our  defence?  Are  our  walls  per- 
adventure  more  strong  than  the  walls  of  Roiida?  Are  our  war 
riors  more  brave  than  the  defenders  of  Loxa?  The  walls  of 
Ronda  were  thrown  down,  and  the  warriors  of  Loxa  had  to 
surrender.  Do  we  hope  for  succor? — from  whence  are  we  to 
receive  it?  The  time  for  hope  is  gone  by.  Granada  has  lost 
its  power ;  it  no  longer  possesses  chivalry,  commanders,  or  a 
king.  Boabdil  sits  a  vassal  in  the  degraded  halls  of  the  Al- 
hambra;  El  Zagal  is  a  fugitive,  shut  up  within  the  walls  of 
Guadix.  The  kingdom  is  divided  against  itself,  —its  strength 
is  gone,  its  pride  fallen,  its  very  existence  at  an  end.  In  the 
name  of  Allah,  we  conjure  thee,  who  art  our  captain,  be  not 
our  direst  enemy ;  but  surrender  these  ruins  of  our  once  happy 
Malaga,  and  deliver  us  from  these  overwhelming  horrors." 

Such  was  the  supplication  forced  from  the  inhabitants  by 
the  extremity  of  their  sufferings.  Hamet  el  Zegri  listened  to 
the  alfaqui  without  anger,  for  he  respected  the  sanctity  of  his 
office.  His  heart,  too,  was  at  that  moment  lifted  up  with  a 
vain  confidence.  "Yet  a  few  days  of  patience,"  said  he,  "  and 
all  these  evils  will  suddenly  have  an  end.  I  have  been  con 
ferring  with  this  holy  man,  and  find  that  the  time  of  our  de 
liverance  is  a  thand.  The  decrees  of  fate  are  inevitable ;  it  is 
written  in  the  book  of  destiny,  that  we  shall  sally  forth  and 
destroy  the  camp  of  the  unbelievers,  and  banquet  upon  those 
mountains  of  grain  which  are  piled  up  in  the  midst  of  it.  So 
Allah  hath  promised,  by  the  mouth  of  this  his  prophet.  Allah 
Achbar!  God  is  great.  Let  no  man  oppose  the  decrees  of 
Heaven !" 

The  citizens  bowed  with  profound  reverence,  for  no  true 
Moslem  pretends  to  struggle  against  whatever  is  written  in 
the  book  of  fate.  Ali  Dordux,  who  had  come  prepared  to 
champion  the  city  and  to  brave  the  ire  of  Hamet,  hum  Vied 
himself  before  this  holy  man,  and  gave  faith  to  his  prophe 
cies  as  the  revelations  of  Allah.  So  the  deputies  returned  to 
the  citizens,  and  exhorted  them  to  be  of  good  cheer :  "  A  few 
days  longer,"  said  they,  "  and  our  sufferings  are  to  terminate. 
When  the  white  banner  is  removed  from  the  tower,  then  look 
out  for  deliverance ;  for  the  hour  of  sallying  forth  will  have 
arrived."  The  people  retired  to  their  homes,  with  sorrowful 


234  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

hearts ;  they  tried  in  vain  to  quiet  the  cries  of  their  famishing 
children ;  and  day  by  day,  and  hour  by  hour,  their  anxious 
eyes  were  turned  to  the  sacred  banner,  which  still  continued 
to  wave  on  the  tower  of  Gibralfaro. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

HOW  HAMET  EL  ZEGRI    SALLIED    FORTH   WITH    THE  SACRED  BAN 
NER,    TO  ATTACK  THE  CHRISTIAN  CAMP. 

"THE  Moorish  nigromancer, "  observes  the  worthy  Fray 
Antonio  Agapida,  "remained  shut  up  in  a  tower  of  the  Gibral 
faro,  devising  devilish  means  to  work  mischief  and  discomfit 
ure  upon  the  Christians.  He  was  daily  consulted  by  Hamet 
el  Zegri,  who  had  great  faith  in  those  black  and  magic  arts, 
which  he  had  brought  with  him  from  the  bosom  of  heathen 
Africa." 

From  the  account  given  of  this  dervise  and  his  incantations 
by  the  worthy  father,  it  would  appear  that  he  was  an  astrolo 
ger,  and  was  studying  the  stars,  and  endeavoring  to  calcu 
late  the  day  and  hour  when  a  successful  attack  might  be  made 
upon  the  Christian  camp. 

Famine  had  now  increased  to  such  a  degree  as  to  distress 
even  the  garrison  of  Gibralfaro,  although  the  Gomeres  had 
seized  upon  all  the  provisions  they  could  find  in  the  city. 
Their  passions  were  sharpened  by  hunger,  and  they  became 
restless  and  turbulent,  and  impatient  for  action. 

Hamet  el  Zegri  was  one  day  in  counsel  with  his  captains, 
perplexed  by  the  pressure  of  events,  when  the  dervise  entered 
among  them.  "The  hour  of  victory,"  exclaimed  he,  "is  at 
hand.  Allah  has  commanded  that  to-morrow  morning  ye 
shall  sally  forth  to  the  fight.  I  will  bear  before  you  the  sacred 
banner,  and  deliver  your  enemies  into  your  hands.  Remember, 
however,  that  ye  are  but  instruments  in  the  hands  of  Allah,  to 
take  vengeance  on  the  enemies  of  the  faith.  Go  into  battle, 
therefore,  with  pure  hearts,  forgiving  each  other  all  past 
offences ;  for  those  who  are  charitable  towards  each  other,  will 
be  victorious  over  the  foe."  The  words  of  the  dervise  were 
received  with  rapture:  all  Gibralfaro  and  the  Alcazaba  re 
sounded  immediately  with  the  din  of  arms;  and  Hamet  sent 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  235 

throughout  the  towers  and  fortifications  of  the  city,  and 
selected  the  choicest  troops  and  most  distinguished  captains 
for  this  eventful  combat. 

In  the  morning  early,  the  rumor  went  throughout  the  city 
that  the  sacred  banner  had  disappeared  from  the  tower  of  Gib- 
ralf  aro,  and  all  Malaga  was  roused  to  witness  the  sally  that  was 
to  destroy  the  unbelievers.  Hamet  descended  from  his  strong 
hold,  accompanied  by  his  principal  captain,  Abrahen  Zenete, 
and  followed  by  his  Gomeres.  The  dervise  led  the  way,  dis 
playing  the  white  banner,  the  sacred  pledge  of  victory.  The 
multitude  shouted  "  Allah  Acbar!"  and  prostrated  themselves 
before  the  banner  as  it  passed.  Even  the  dreaded  Hamet  was 
hailed  with  praises;  for  in  their  hopes  of  speedy  relief  through 
the  prowess  of  his  arm,  the  populace  forgot  every  thing  but 
his  bravery.  Every  bosom  in  Malaga  was  agitated  by  hope 
and  fear— the  old  men,  the  women  arid  children,  and  all  who 
went  not  forth  to  battle,  mounted  on  tower  and  battlement 
and  roof,  to  watch  a  combat  that  was  to  decide  their  fate. 

Before  sallying  forth  from  the  city,  the  dervise  addressed  the 
troops,  reminding  them  of  the  holy  nature  of  this  enterprise, 
and  warning  them  not  to  forfeit  the  protection  of  the  sacred 
banner  by  any  unworthy  act.  They  were  not  to  pause  to  make 
spoil  nor  to  take  prisoners :  they  were  to  press  forward,  fight 
ing  valiantly,  and  granting  no  quarter.  The  gate  was  then 
thrown  open,  and  the  dervise  issued  forth,  followed  by  the 
army.  They  directed  their  assaults  upon  the  encampments  of 
the  Master  of  Santiago  and  the  Master  of  Alcantara,  and  came 
upon  them  so  suddenly  that  they  killed  and  wounded  several 
of  the  guards.  Abrahen  Zenete  made  his  way  into  one  of  the 
tents,  where  he  beheld  several  Christian  striplings  just  start 
ing  from  their  slumber.  The  heart  of  the  Moor  was  suddenly 
touched  with  pity  for  their  youth,  or  perhaps  he  scorned  the 
weakness  of  the  foe.  He  smote  them  with  the  flat,  instead  of 
tke  edge  of  the  sword.  ''Away,  imps,"  cried  he,  "away  to 
your  mothers."  The  fanatic  dervise  reproached  him  with  his 
clemency— "I  did  not  kill  them,"  replied  Zenete,  "because  I 
saw  no  beards  I"  * 

The  alarm  was  given  in  the  camp,  and  the  Christians  rushed 
from  all  quarters  to  defend  the  gates  of  the  bulwarks.  Don 
Pedro  Puerto  Carrero,  Senior  of  Moguer,  and  his  brother  Don 
Alonzo  Pachcco,  planted  themselves,  with  their  followers,  in 

*  Cura  de  los  Palacios,  c.  84. 


236  fm  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

the  gateway  of  the  encampment  of  the  Master  of  Santiago,  and 
bore  the  whole  brunt  of  battle  until  they  were  reinforced. 
The  gate  of  the  encampment  of  the  Master  of  Calatrava  was  in 
like  manner  defended  by  Lorenzo  Saurez  de  Mendoza.  Hamet 
el  Zegri  was  furious  at  being  thus  checked,  where  he  had 
expected  a  miraculous  victory.  He  led  his  troops  repeatedly 
to  the  attack,  hoping  to  force  the  gates  before  succor  should 
arrive :  they  fought  with  vehement  ardor,  but  were  as  often 
repulsed ;  and  every  time  they  returned  to  the  assault,  they 
found  their  enemies  doubled  in  number.  The  Christians 
opened  a  cross-fire  of  all  kinds  of  missiles,  from  their  bulwarks ; 
the  Moors  could  effect  but  little  damage  upon  a  foe  thus  pro 
tected  behind  their  works,  while  they  themselves  were  exposed 
from  head  to  foot.  The  Christians  singled  out  the  most 
conspicuous  cavaliers,  the  greater  part  of  whom  were  either 
slain  or  wounded.  Still  the  Moors,  infatuated  by  the  predic 
tions  of  the  prophet,  fought  desperately  and  devotedly,  and 
they  were  furious  to  avenge  the  slaughter  of  their  leaders. 
They  rushed  upon  certain  death,  endeavoring  madly  to  scale 
the  bulwarks,  or  force  the  gates,  and  fell  amidst  showers  of 
darts  and  lances,  filling  the  ditches  with  their  mangled  bodies. 

Hamet  el  Zegri  raged  along  the  front  of  the  bulwarks,  seek 
ing  an  opening  for  attack.  He  gnashed  his  teeth  with  fury,  as 
he  saw  so  many  of  his  chosen  warriors  slain  around  him.  He 
seemed  to  have  a  charmed  life ;  for,  though  constantly  in  the 
hottest  of  the  fight,  amidst  showers  of  missiles,  he  still  escaped 
uninjured.  Blindly  confiding  in  the  prophecy  of  victory,  he 
continued  to  urge  on  his  devoted  troops.  The  dervise,  too, 
ran  like  a  maniac  through  the  ranks,  waving  his  white  banner, 
and  inciting  the  Moors  by  bowlings  rather  than  by  shouts.  In 
the  midst  of  his  frenzy,  a  stone  from  a  catapult  struck  him  on 
the  head,  and  dashed  out  his  bewildered  brains.* 

When  the  Moors  beheld  their  prophet  slain,  and  his  banner 
in  the  dust,  they  were  seized  with  despair,  and  fled  in  confu 
sion  to  the  city.  Hamet  el  Zegri  made  some  effort  to  rally 
them,  but  was  himself  confounded  by  the  fall  of  the  dervise. 
He  covered  the  flight  of  his  broken  forces,  turning  repeatedly 
upon  their  pursuers,  and  slowly  making  his  retreat  into  the 
city. 

The  inhabitants  of  Malaga  witnessed  from  their  walls,  with 
trembling  anxiety,  the  whole  of  this  disastrous  conflict.  At 

*  Garibay,  lib.  18,  c.  33 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  337 

the  first  onset,  when  they  beheld  the  guards  of  the  camp  put 
to  flight,  they  exclaimed,  "Allah  has  given  us  the  victory!" 
and  they  sent  up  shouts  of  triumph.  Their  exultation,  how 
ever,  was  soon  turned  into  doubt,  when  they  heheld  their 
troops  repulsed  in  repeated  attacks.  They  could  see,  from 
time  to  time,  some  distinguished  warrior  laid  low,  and  others 
brought  back  bleeding  to  the  city.  When  at  length  the  sacred 
banner  fell,  and  the  routed  troops  came  flying  to  the  gates, 
pursued  and  cut  down  by  the  foe,  horror  and  despair  seized 
upon  the  populace. 

As  Hamet  el  Zegri  entered  the  gates,  he  heard  nothing  but 
loud  lamentations:  mothers,  whose  sons  had  been  slain, 
shrieked  curses  after  him  as  he  passed ;  some,  in  the  anguish 
of  their  hearts,  threw  down  their  famishing  babes  before  him, 
exclaiming,  "  Trample  on  them  with  thy  horse's  feet;  for  we 
have  no  food  to  give  them,  and  we  cannot  endure  their  cries." 
All  heaped  execrations  on  his  head,  as  the  cause  of  the  woes  of 
Malaga. 

The  warlike  part  of  the  citizens  also,  and  many  warriors, 
who,  with  their  wives  and  children,  had  taken  refuge  in  Mala 
ga  from  the  mountain  fortresses,  now  joined  in  the  popular 
clamor,  for  their  hearts  were  overcome  by  the  sufferings  of 
their  families. 

Hamet  el  Zegri  found  it  impossible  to  withstand  this  torrent 
of  lamentations,  curses,  and  reproaches.  His  military  ascen 
dancy  was  at  an  end ;  for  most  of  his  officers,  and  the  prime 
warriors  of  his  African  band,  had  faUen  in  this  disastrous 
sally.  Turning  his  back,  therefore,  upon  the  city,  and  aban 
doning  it  to  its  own  councils,  he  retired  with  the  remnant  of 
his  Gomeres  to  his  strong-hold  in  the  Gibralfaro. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

HOW  THE  CITY  OF  MALAGA  CAPITULATED. 

THE  people  of  Malaga,  being  no  longer  overawed  by  Hamet 
el  Zegri  and  his  Gomeres,  turned  to  Ali  Dordux,  the  magnani 
mous  Merchant,  and  put  the  fate  of  the  city  into  his  hands. 
He  had  already  gained  the  alcaydes  of  the  castle  of  the  Geno 
ese,  ai^  of  the  citadel,  into  his  party,  and  in  the  late  con- 


238  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

fusion  had  gained  the  sway  over  those  important  fortresses. 
He  now  associated  himself  with  the  alfaqui  Abrahen  Alhariz 
and  four  of  the  principal  inhabitants,  and,  forming  a  provi 
sional  junta,  they  sent  heralds  to  the  Christian  sovereigns, 
offering  to  surrender  the  city  on  certain  terms,  protecting  the 
persons  and  property  of  the  inhabitants,  permitting  them  to 
reside  as  Mudexares  or  tributary  vassals,  either  in  Malaga  or 
elsewhere. 

When  the  heralds  arrived  at  the  camp,  and  made  known 
their  missis  to  king  Ferdinand,  his  anger  was  kindled.  "Re 
turn  to  your  fellow-citizens,"  said  he,  "  and  tell  them  that  the 
day  of  grace  is  gone  by.  They  have  persisted  in  a  fruitless 
defence,  until  they  are  driven  by  necessity  to  capitulate ;  they 
must  surrender  unconditionally,  and  abide  the  fate  of  the 
vanquished.  Those  who  merit  death  shall  suffer  death :  those 
who  merit  captivity  shall  be  made  captives." 

This  stern  reply  spread  consternation  among  the  people  of 
Malaga ;  but  Ali  Dordux  comforted  them,  and  undertook  to  go 
in  person,  and  pray  for  favorable  terms.  When  the  people 
beheld  this  great  and  wealthy  merchant,  who  was  so  eminent 
in  their  city,  departing  with  his  associates  on  this  mission, 
they  plucked  up  heart ;  for  they  said,  * '  Surely  the  Christian 
king  will  not  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  such  a  man  as  Ali  Dordux !" 

Ferdinand,  however,  would  not  even  admit  the  ambassadors 
to  his  presence.  "  Send  them  to  the  devil!"  said  he,  in  a  great 
passion,  to  the  commander  of  Leon ;  * '  I'll  not  see  them.  Let 
them  get  back  to  their  city.  They  shall  all  surrender  to  my 
mercy,  as  vanquished  enemies."  * 

To  give  emphasis  to  this  reply,  he  ordered  a  general  dis 
charge  from  all  the  artillery  and  batteries ;  and  there  was  a 
great  shout  throughout  the  camp,  and  all  the  lombards  and 
catapults,  and  other  engines  of  war,  thundered  furiously  upon 
the  city,  doing  great  damage. 

Ali  Dordux  and  his  companions  returned  to  the  city  with 
downcast  countenances,  and  could  scarce  make  the  reply  of 
the  Christian  sovereign  be  heard,  for  the  roaring  of  the  ar 
tillery,  the  tumbling  of  the  walls,  and  the  cries  of  women  and 
children.  The  citizens  were  greatly  astonished  and  dismayed, 
when  they  found  the  little  respect  paid  to  their  most  eminent 
man ;  but  the  warriors  who  were  in  the  city  exclaimed,  ' ',  What 
has  this  merchant  to  do  with  questions  between  men  of  battle? 

*  Cura  de  los  Palacios,  cap.  84. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  OR  AN  AD  A.  339 

Let  us  not  address  the  enemy  as  abject  suppliants  who  have 
no  power  to  injure,  but  as  valiant  men,  who  have  weapons  in 
their  hands." 

So  they  dispatched  another  message  to  the  Christian  sover 
eigns,  offering  to  yield  up  the  city  and  all  their  effects,  on  con 
dition  of  being  secured  in  their  personal  liberty.  Should  this 
be  denied,  they  declared  they  would  hang  from  the  battle 
ments  fifteen  hundred  Christian  captives,  male  and  female; 
that  they  would  put  all  their  old  men,  their  women  and  chil 
dren,  into  the  citadel,  set  fire  to  the  city,  and  sally  forth  sword 
in  hand,  to  fight  until  the  last  gasp.  "  In  this  way,"  said  they, 
* '  the  Spanish  sovereigns  shall  gain  a  bloody  victory,  and  the 
fall  of  Malaga  be  renowned  while  the  world  endures." 

To  this  fierce  and  swelling  message,  Ferdinand  replied,  that 
if  a  single  Christian  captive  were  injured,  not  a  Moor  in  Mal 
aga  but  should  be  put  to  the  edge  of  the  sword. 

A  great  conflict  of  counsels  now  arose  in  Malaga.  The  war 
riors  were  for  following  up  their  menace  by  some  desperate 
act  of  vengeance  or  of  self-devotion.  Those  who  had  families 
looked  with  anguish  upon  their  wives  and  daughters,  and 
thought  it  better  to  die  than  live  to  see  them  captives.  By 
degrees,  however,  the  transports  of  passion  and  despair  sub 
sided,  the  love  of  life  resumed  its  sway,  and  they  turned  once 
more  to  Ali  Dordux,  as  the  man  most  prudent  in  council  and 
able  in  negotiation.  By  his  advice,  fourteen  of  the  principal 
inhabitants  were  chosen  from  the  fourteen  districts  of  the  city, 
and  sent  to  the  camp,  bearing  a  long  letter,  couched  in  terms 
of  the  most  humble  supplication. 

Various  debates  now  took  place  in  the  Christian  camp. 
Many  of  the  cavaliers  were  exasperated  against  Malaga  for 
its  long  resistance,  which  had  caused  the  death  of  many  of 
their  relations  and  favorite  companions.  It  had  long  been  a 
strong-hold  also  for  Moorish  depredators,  and  the  mart  where 
most  of  the  warriors  captured  in  the  Axarquia  had  been  ex 
posed  in  triumph  and  sold  to  slavery.  They  represented, 
moreover,  that  there  were  many  Moorish  cities  yet  to  be  be 
sieged  ;  and  that  an  example  ought  to  be  made  of  Malaga,  to 
prevent  all  obstinate  resistance  thereafter.  They  advised, 
therefore,  that  all  the  inhabitants  should  be  put  to  the  sword !  * 

The  humane  heart  of  Isabella  revolted  at  such  sanguinary 
counsels:  she  insisted  that  their  triumph  should  not  be  dis- 

*  Pulgar. 


240  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

graced  by  cruelty.  Ferdinand,  however,  was  inflexible  in  re 
fuging  to  grant  any  preliminary  terms,  insisting  on  an  uncon 
ditional  surrender. 

The  people  of  Malaga  now  abandoned  themselves  to  par 
oxysms  of  despair;  on  the  one  side  they  saw  famine  and 
death,  on  the  other  slavery  and  chains.  The  mere  men  of 
the  sword,  who  had  no  families  to  protect,  were  loud  for  sig 
nalizing  their  fall  by  some  illustrious  action.  "Let  us  sacri 
fice  our  Christian  captives,  and  then  destroy  ourselves/'  cried 
some.  ' '  Let  us  put  all  the  women  and  children  to  death,  set 
fire  to  the  city,  fall  on  the  Christian  camp,  and  die  sword  in 
hand,"  cried  others. 

Ali  Dordux  gradually  made  his  voice  be  heard,  amidst  the 
general  clamor.  He  addressed  himself  to  the  principal  inhabi 
tants,  and  to  those  who  had  children.  "Let  those  who  live  by 
the  sword,  die  by  the  sword,"  cried  he;  "but  let  us  not  follow 
their  desperate  counsels.  Who  knows  what  sparks  of  pity 
may  be  awakened  in  the  bosoms  of  the  Christian  sovereigns, 
when  they  behold  our  unoffending  wives  and  daughters,  and 
our  helpless  little  ones !  The  Christian  queen,  they  say,  is  full 
of  mercy. " 

At  these  words,  the  hearts  of  the  unhappy  people  of  Malaga 
yearned  over  their  families,  and  they  empowered  Ali  Dordux 
to  deliver  up  their  city  to  the  mercy  of  the  Castilian  sov 
ereigns. 

The  merchant  now  went  to  and  fro,  and  had  several  com 
munications  with  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  and  interested  sev 
eral  principal  cavaliers  in  his  cause ;  and  he  sent  rich  presents 
to  1.J3  king  a^J  queen,  of  oriental  merchandise,  and  silks  and 
stuffs  of  gold,  and  jewels  and  precious  stones,  and  spices  and 
perfumes,  and  many  other  sumptuous  things,  which  he  had 
accumulated  in  his  great  tradings  with  the  east ;  and  he  grad 
ually  found  favor  in  the  eyes  of  the  sovereigns.*  Finding  that 
there  was  nothing  to  be  obtained  for  the  city,  he  now,  like  a 
prudent  man  and  able  merchant,  began  to  negotiate  for  him 
self  and  his  immediate  friends.  He  represented  that  from  the 
first  they  had  been  desirous  of  yielding  up  the  city,  but  had 
been  prevented  by  warlike  and  high-handed  men,  who  had 
threatened  their  lives:  he  entreated,  therefore,  that  mercy 
might  be  extended  to  them,  and  that  they  might  not  be  con 
founded  with  the  guilty. 

*  MS.  Chron.  of  Vjilera. 


TIIS  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

The  sovereigns  had  accepted  the  presents  of  Ah'  Dordux— 
how  could  they  then  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  his  petition?  So  they 
granted  a  pardon  to  him,  and  to  forty  families  which  ho 
named ;  and  it  was  agreed  that  they  should  be  protected  in 
their  liberties  and  property,  and  permitted  to  reside  in  Malaga 
as  Mudexares  or  Moslem  vassals,  and  to  follow  their  customary 
pursuits.*  All  this  being  arranged,  Ali  Dordux  delivered  up 
twenty  or  the  principal  inhabitants,  to  remain  as  hostages, 
until  the  whole  city  should  be  placed  in  the  possession  of  the 
Christians. 

Don  Gutiere  de  Cardenas,  senior  commander  of  Leon,  now 
entered  the  city,  armed  cap-a-pie,  on  horseback,  and  took  pos 
session  in  the  name  of  the  Castilian  sovereigns.  He  was  fol 
lowed  by  his  retainers,  and  by  the  captains  and  cavaliers  of 
the  army ;  and  in  a  little  while,  the  standards  of  the  cross,  and 
of  the  blessed  Santiago,  and  of  the  Catholic  sovereigns,  were 
elevated  on  the  principal  tower  of  the  Alcazaba.  When  these 
standards  were  beheld  from  the  camp,  the  queen  and  the 
princess  and  the  ladies  of  the  court,  and  all  the  royal  retinue, 
knelt  down  and  gave  thanks  and  praises  to  the  holy  virgin  and 
to  Santiago,  for  this  great  triumph  of  the  faith;  and  the 
bishops  and  other  clergy  who  were  present,  and  the  choristers 
of  the  royal  chapel,  chanted  "  Te  Deum  Laudamus,"  and 
"  Gloria  in  Excelsis" 


CHAPTER  XX. 

FULFILMENT  OF  THE  PROPHECY  OF    THE  DERVISE — FATE  OF 
HAMET  EL  ZEGRI. 

No  sooner  was  the  city  delivered  up,  than  the  wretched  in 
habitants  implored  permission  to  purchase  bread  for  them 
selves  and  their  children,  from  the  heaps  of  grain  which  they 
had  so  often  gazed  at  wistfully  from  their  walls.  Their  prayer 
was  granted,  and  they  issued  forth  with  the  famished  eager 
ness  of  starving  men.  It  was  piteous  to  behold  the  struggles 
of  those  unhappy  people,  as  they  contended  who  first  should 
have  their  necessities  relieved. 

*  Cura  de  los  Palacios. 


242  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

"Thus, "says  the  pious  Fray  Antonio  Agapida,  "thus  are 
the  predictions  of  false  prophets  sometimes  permitted  to  be 
verified,  but  always  to  the  confusion  of  those  who  trust  in 
them :  for  the  words  of  the  Moorish  nigromancer  came  to  pass, 
that  the  people  of  Malaga  should  eat  of  those  heaps  of  bread  ; 
but  they  ate  in  humiliation  and  defeat,  and  with  sorrow  and 
bitterness  of  heart. 

Dark  and  fierce  were  the  feelings  of  Hamet  el  Zegri,  as  he 
looked  down  from  the  castle  of  Gibralfaro  and  beheld  the 
Christian  legions  pouring  into  the  city,  and  the  standard  of 
the  cross  supplanting  the  crescent  on  the  citadel.  "  The  people 
of  Malaga,"  said  he,  "  have  trusted  to  a  man  of  trade,  and  he 
has  trafficked  them  away ;  but  let  us  not  suffer  ourselves  to  be 
bound  hand  and  foot,  and  delivered  up  as  part  of  his  bargain. 
We  have  yet  strong  walls  around  us,  and  trusty  weapons  in 
our  hands.  Let  us  fight  until  buried  beneath  the  last  tum 
bling  tower  of  Gibralfaro,  or,  rushing  down  from  among  its 
ruins,  carry  havoc  among  the  unbelievers,  as  they  throng  the 
streets  of  Malaga!" 

The  fierceness  of  the  Gomeres,  howaver,  was  broken.  They 
could  have  died  in  the  breach,  had  their  castle  been  assailed ; 
but  the  slow  advances  of  famine  subdued  their  strength  with 
out  rousing  their  passions,  and  sapped  the  force  both  of  soul 
and  body.  They  were  almost  unanimous  for  a  surrender. 

It  was  a  hard  struggle  for  the  proud  spirit  of  Hamet,  to  bow 
itself  to  ask  for  terms.  Still  he  trusted  that  the  valor  of  his 
defence  would  gain  him  respect  in  the  eyes  of  a  chivalrous 
foe.  "Ali,"  said  he,  "has  negotiated  like  a  merchant;  I  will 
capitulate  as  a  soldier."  He  sent  a  herald,  therefore,  to  Ferdi 
nand,  offering  to  yield  up  his  castle,  but  demanding  a  separate 
treaty.*  The  Castilian  sovereign  made  a  laconic  and  stern  re 
ply  :  "  He  shall  receive  no  terms  but  such  as  have  been  granted 
to  the  community  of  Malaga. " 

For  two  days  Hamet  el  Zegri  remained  brooding  in  his 
castle,  after  the  city  was  in  possession  of  the  Christians;  at 
length,  the  clamors  of  his  followers  compelled  him  to  sur 
render.  When  the  broken  remnant  of  this  fierce  African  gar 
rison  descended  from  their  cragged  fortress,  they  were  so  worn 
by  watchfulness,  famine,  and  battle,  yet  carried  such  a  lurking 
fury  in  their  eyes,  that  they  looked  more  like  fiends  than 
men.  They  were  all  condemned  to  slavery,  excepting  Abrahen 

*  Cura  de  los  Palacios. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  243 

Zenete.  The  instance  of  clemency  which  he  had  shown  in  re 
fraining  to  harm  the  Spanish  striplings,  on  the  last  sally  from 
Malaga,  won  him  favorable  terms.  It  was  cited  as  a  magna 
nimous  act  by  the  Spanish  cavaliers,  and  all  admitted,  that 
though  a  Moor  in  blood,  he  possessed  the  Christian  heart  of  a 
Castilian  hidalgo.* 

As  to  Hamet  el  Zegri,  on  being  asked  what  moved  him  to 
such  hardened  obstinacy,  he  replied,  ' '  When  I  undertook  my 
command,  I  pledged  myself  to  fight  in  defence  of  my  faith,  my 
city,  and  my  sovereign,  until  slain  or  made  prisoner ;  and  de 
pend  upon  it,  had  I  had  men  to  stand  by  me,  I  should  have 
died  fighting,  instead  of  thus  tamely  surrendering  myself  with- 
out  a  weapon  in  my  hand." 

"Such,"  says  the  pious  Fray  Antonio  Agapida,  "was  the 
diabolical  hatred  and  stiff-necked  opposition  of  this  infidel  to 
our  holy  cause.  But  he  was  justly  served  by  our  most  Catho 
lic  and  high-minded  sovereign,  for  his  pertinacious  defence  of 
the  city ;  for  Ferdinand  ordered  that  he  should  be  loaded  with 
chains,  and  thrown  into  a  dungeon,  "t 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

HOW  THE  CASTILIAN  SOVEREIGNS  TOOK  POSSESSION  OF  THE 
CITY  OF  MALAGA,  AND  HOW  KING  FERDINAND  SIGNALIZED 
HIMSELF  BY  HIS  SKILL  IN  BARGAINING  WITH  THE  INHABI 
TANTS  FOR  THEIR  RANSOM. 

ONE  of  the  first  cares  of  the  conquerors,  on  entering  Malaga, 
was  to  search  for  Christian  captives.  Nearly  sixteen  hundred 
men  and  women  were  found,  and  among  them  were  persons  of 
distinction.  Some  of  them  had  been  ten,  fifteen,  and  twenty 
years  in  captivity.  Many  had  been  servants  to  the  Moors,  or 
laborers  on  public  works,  and  some  had  passed  their  time  in 
chains  and  dungeons.  Preparations  were  made  to  celebrate 
their  deliverance  as  a  Christian  triumph.  A  tent  was  erected 
not  far  from  the  city,  and  furnished  with  an  altar  and  all  the 
solemn  decorations  of  a  chapel.  Here  the  king  and  queen 

*  Oura  4e*los  fatecios,  cap.  84.  tPulgar,   Croaica, 


244  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

waited  to  receive  the  Christian  captives.  They  were  assem 
bled  in  the  city,  and  marshalled  forth  in  piteous  procession. 
Many  of  them  had  still  the  chains  and  shackles  on  their  legs ; 
they  were  wasted  with  famine,  their  hair  and  beards  over 
grown  and  matted,  and  their  faces  pale  and  haggard  from 
long  confinement.  When  they  beheld  themselves  restored  to 
liberty,  and  surrounded  by  their  countrymen,  some  stared 
wildly  about  as  if  in  a  dream,  others  gave  way  to  frantic 
transports,  but  most  of  them  wept  for  joy.  All  present  were 
moved  to  tears,  by  so  touching  a  spectacle.  When  the  pro 
cession  arrived  at  what  is  called  the  Gate  of  Granada,  it  was 
met  by  a  great  concourse  from  the  camp,  with  crosses  and 
pennons,  who  turned  and  followed  the  captives,  singing  hymns 
of  praise  and  thanksgiving.  When  they  came  in  presence  of 
the  king  and  queen,  they  threw  themselves  011  their  knees  and 
would  have  kissed  their  feet,  as  their  saviours  and  deliverers ; 
but  the  sovereigns  prevented  such  humiliation,  and  graciously 
extended  to  them  their  hands.  They  then  prostrated  them 
selves  before  the  altar,  and  all  present  joined  them  in  giving 
thanks  to  God  for  their  liberation  from  this  cruel  bondage. 
By  orders  of  the  king  and  queen,  their  chains  were  then  taken 
off,  and  they  were  clad  in  decent  raiment,  and  food  was  set  be 
fore  them.  After  they  had  eat  and  drunk,  and  were  refreshed 
and  invigorated,  they  were  provided  with  money  and  all  things 
necessary  for  their  journey,  and  were  sent  joyfully  to  their 
homes. 

While  the  old  chroniclers  dwell  with  becoming  enthusiasm 
on  this  pure  and  affecting  triumph  of  humanity,  they  go  on,  in 
a  strain  of  equal  eulogy,  to  describe  a  spectacle  of  a  far  different 
nature.  It  so  happened,  that  there  were  found  in  the  city 
twelve  of  those  renegado  Christians  who  had  deserted  to  the 
Moors,  and  conveyed  false  intelligence,  during  the  siege:  a 
barbarous  species  of  punishment  was  inflicted  upon  them,  bor 
rowed,  it  is  said,  from  the  Moors,  and  peculiar  to  these  wars. 
They  were  tied  to  stakes  in  a  public  place,  and  horsemen  exer 
cised  their  skill  in  transpiercing  them  with  pointed  reeds, 
hurled  at  them  while  careering  at  full  speed,  until  the  miserable 
victims  expired  beneath  their  wounds.  Several  apostate  Moors, 
also,  who,  having  embraced  Christianity,  had  afterwards  re 
lapsed  into  their  early  faith  and  had  taken  refuge  in  Malaga 
from  the  vengeance  of  the  Inquisition,  were  publicly  burnt. 
"  These,1'  says  an  old  Jesuit  historian,  exultingly,  "  these  were 
the  tilts  of  reeds  and  the  illuminations  most  pleasing  for  this 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  QHANADA.  245 

victorious  festival,  and  for  the  Catholic  piety  of  our  sove 
reigns  !"  * 

When  the  city  was  cleansed  from  the  impurities  and  offen 
sive  odors  which  had  collected  during  the  siege,  the  bishops  and 
other  clergy  who  accompanied  the  court,  and  the  choir  of  the 
royal  chapel,  walked  in  procession  to  the  principal  mosque, 
which  was  consecrated,  and  entitled  Santa  Maria  de  la  Incarna- 
cion.  This  done,  the  king  and  queen  entered  the  city,  accom 
panied  by  the  grand  cardinal  of  Spain,  and  the  principal  nobles 
and  cavaliers  of  the  army,  and  heard  a  solemn  mass.  The 
church  was  then  elevated  into  a  cathedral,  and  Malaga  was 
made  a  bishopric,  and  many  of  the  neighboring  towns  were 
comprehended  in  its  diocese.  The  queen  took  up  her  residence 
in  the  Alcazaba,  in  the  apartments  of  her  valiant  treasurer, 
Ruy  Lopez,  from  whence  she  had  a  view  of  the  whole  city ;  but 
the  king  established  his  quarters  in  the  warrior  castle  of  Gib- 
ralfaro. 

And  now  came  to  be  considered  the  disposition  of  the  Moorish 
prisoners.  All  those  who  were  strangers  in  the  city,  and  had 
either  taken  refuge  there,  or  had  entered  to  defend  it,  were  at 
once  considered  slaves.  They  were  divided  into  three  lots: 
one  was  set  apart  for  the  service  of  God,  in  redeeming  Christian 
captives  from  bondage,  either  in  the  kingdom  of  Granada  or  in 
Africa ;  the  second  lot  was  divided  among  those  who  had  aided 
either  in  field  or  cabinet,  in  the  present  siege,  according  to  their 
rank ;  the  third  was  appropriated  to  defray,  by  their  sale,  the 
grea.t  expenses  incurred  in  the  reduction  of  the  place.  A  hun 
dred  of  the  Gomeres  were  sent  as  presents  to  Pope  Innocent 
VIII. ,  and  were  led  in  triumph  through  the  streets  of  Rome, 
and  afterwards  converted  to  Christianity.  Fifty  Moorish 
maidens  were  sent  to  the  queen  Joanna  of  Naples,  sister  to 
king  Ferdinand,  and  thirty  to  the  queen  of  Portugal.  Isabella 
made  presents  of  others  to  the  ladies  of  her  household,  and  of 
the  noble  families  of  Spain. 

Among  the  inhabitants  of  Malaga  were  four  hundred  and  fifty 
Moorish  Jews,  for  the  most  part  women,  speaking  the  Arabic 
language,  and  dressed  in  the  Moresco  fashion.  These  were 
ransomed  by  a  wealthy  Jew  of  Castile,  farmer-general  of  the 
royal  revenues  derived  from  the  Jews  of  Spain.  He  agreed  to 


*"Los  renegados  fueron  acanavareados :  y  los  converses  quemados:  y  estoa 
fueron  las  cafias,  y  luminarias  mas  alegres,  por  la  fiesta  de  la  vitoria,  para  la  piedad 
Catholica  de  nuestros  Reyes."— Abarca.  Anales  de  Aragon,  torn.  2,  Key  xxx.  c.  3. 


246  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

make  up,  within  a  certain  time,  the  sum  of  twenty  thousand 
doblas,  or  pistoles  of  gold;  all  the  money  and  jewels  of  the 
captives  being  taken  in  part  payment.  They  were  sent  to  Cas 
tile,  in  two  armed  galleys. 

As  to  the  great  mass  of  Moorish  inhabitants,  they  implored 
that  they  might  not  be  scattered  and  sold  into  captivity,  but 
might  be  permitted  to  ransom  themselves  by  an  amount  paid 
within  a  certain  time.  Upon  this,  king  Ferdinand  took  the 
advice  of  certain  of  his  ablest  counsellors :  they  said  to  him, 
"  If  you  hold  out  a  prospect  of  hopeless  captivity,  the  infidels 
will  throw  all  their  gold  and  jewels  into  wells  and  pits,  and  you 
will  lose  the  greater  part  of  the  spoil ;  but  if  you  fix  a  general 
rate  of  ransom,  and  receive  their  money  and  jewels  in  part 
payment,  nothing  will  be  destroyed."  The  king  relished 
greatly  this  advice ;  and  it  was  arranged  that  all  the  inhabi 
tants  should  be  ransomed  at  the  general  rate  of  thirty  doblas 
or  pistoles  in  gold  for  each  individual,  male  or  female,  large  or 
small ;  that  all  their  gold,  jewels,  and  other  valuables  should  be 
received  immediately  in  part  payment  of  the  general  amount, 
and  that  the  residue  should  be  paid  within  eight  months ;  that 
if  any  of  the  number,  actually  living,  should  die  in  the  interim, 
their  ransom  should  nevertheless  be  paid.  If,  however,  the 
whole  of  the  amount  were  not  paid  at  the  expiration  of  the 
eight  months,  they  should  all  be  considered  and  treated  as 
slaves. 

The  unfortunate  Moors  were  eager  to  catch  at  the  least  hope 
of  future  liberty,  and  consented  to  these  hard  conditions.  The 
most  rigorous  precautions  were  taken  to  exact  them  to  the 
uttermost.  The  inhabitants  were  numbered  by  houses  and 
families,  and  their  names  taken  down;  their  most  precious 
effects  were  made  up  into  parcels,  and  sealed  and  inscribed  with 
their  names ;  and  they  were  ordered  to  repair  with  them  to  cer 
tain  large  corrales  or  inclosures  adjoining  the  Alcazaba,  which 
were  surrounded  by  high  walls  and  overlooked  by  watch- 
towers,  to  which  places  the  cavalgadas  of  Christian  captives 
had  usually  been  driven,  to  be  confined  until  the  time  of  sale, 
like  cattle  in  the  market.  The  Moors  were  obliged  to  leave 
their  houses  one  by  one ;  all  their  money,  necklaces,  bracelets, 
and  anklets  of  gold,  pearl,  coral,  and  precious  stones,  were 
taken  from  them  at  the  threshold,  and  their  persons  so  rigor 
ously  searched  that  they  carried  off  nothing  concealed. 

Then  might  be  seen  old  men  and  helpless  women  and  tender 
maidens,  some  of  high  birth  and  gentle  condition,  passing 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  247 

through  the  streets,  heavily  burdened,  towards  the  Alcaza"ba. 
As  they  left  their  homes,  they  smote  their  breasts,  and  wrung 
their  hands,  and  raisetl  their  weeping  eyes  to  heaven  in  anguish ; 
and,  this  is  recorded  as  their  plaint:  "O  Malaga!  city  so 
renowned  and  beautiful !  where  now  is  the  strength  of  thy  cas 
tles,  where  the  grandeur  of  thy  towers?  Of  what  avail  have 
been  thy  mighty  walls,  for  the  protection  of  thy  children? 
Behold  them  driven  from  thy  pleasant  abodes,  doomed  to  drag 
out  a  life  of  bondage  in  a  foreign  land,  and  to  die  far  from  the 
home  of  their  infancy !  What  will  become  of  thy  old  men  and 
matrons,  when  their  gray  hairs  shall  be  no  longer  reverenced? 
What  will  become  of  thy  maidens,  so  delicately  reared  and 
tenderly  cherished,  when  reduced  to  hard  and  menial  servi 
tude?  Behold,  thy  once  happy  families  are  scattered  asunder, 
never  again  to  be  united ;  sons  are  separated  from  their  fathers, 
husbands  from  their  wives,  and  tender  children  from  their 
mothers :  they  will  bewail  each  other  in  foreign  lands,  but  their 
lamentations  will  be  the  scoff  of  the  stranger.  O  Malaga! 
city  of  our  birth !  who  can  behold  thy  desolation,  and  not  shed 
tears  of  bitterness?"  * 

When  Malaga  was  completely  secured,  a  detachment  was 
sent  against  two  fortresses  near  the  sea,  called  Mixas  and 
Osuna,  which  had  frequently  harassed  the  Christian  camp. 
The  inhabitants  were  threatened  with  the  sword,  unless  they 
instantly  surrendered.  They  claimed  the  same  terms  that  had 
been  granted  to  Malaga,  imagining  them  to  be  freedom  of  per 
son  and  security  of  property.  Their  claim  was  granted ;  they 
were  transported  to  Malaga  with  all  their  riches,  and,  on  ar 
riving  there,  were  overwhelmed  with  consternation  at  finding 
themselves  captives.  "Ferdinand,"  observes  Fray  Antonio 
Agapida,  "was  a  man  of  his  word;  they  were  shut  up  in  the 
inclosure  at  the  Alcazaba  with  the  people  of  Malaga,  and  shared 
their  fate." 

The  unhappy  captives  remained  thus  crowded  in  the  court 
yards  of  the  Alcazaba,  like  sheep  in  a  fold,  until  they  could  be 
sent  by  sea  and  land  to  Seville.  They  were  then  distributed 
about  in  city  and  country,  each  Christian  family  having  one 
or  more  to  feed  and  maintain  as  servants,  until  the  term  fixed 
for  the  payment  of  the  residue  of  the  ransom  should  expire. 
The  captives  had  obtained  permission  that  several  of  their  num 
ber  should  go  about  among  the  Moorish  towns  of  the  kingdom 

*  Pulgar. 


248  THE  CONQUEST  Of1  GRANADA. 

of  Granada,  collecting  contributions  to  aid  in  the  purchase  of 
their  liberties ;  but  these  towns  were  too  much  impoverished 
by  the  war,  and  engrossed  by  their  own  distresses,  to  lend  a 
listening  ear :  so  the  time  expired  without  the  residue  of  the 
ransom  being  paid,  and  all  the  captives  of  Malaga,  to  the 
number,  as  some  say,  of  eleven,  and  others  of  fifteen  thousand, 
became  slaves!  "Never,"  exclaims  the  worthy  Fray  Anto 
nio  Agapida,  in  one  of  his  usual  bursts  of  zeal  and  loyalty, 
"never  has  there  been  recorded  a  more  adroit  and  sagacious  ar 
rangement  than  this  made  by  the  Catholic  monarch,  by  which 
he  not  only  secured  all  the  property  and  half  of  the  ransom  of 
these  infidels,  but  finally  got  possession  of  their  persons  into 
the  bargain.  This  truly  may  be  considered  one  of  the  greatest 
triumphs  of  the  pious  and  politic  Ferdinand,  and  as  raising 
him  above  the  generality  of  conquerors,  who  hrve  merely  the 
valor  to  gain  victories,  but  lack  the  prudence  and  management 
necessary  to  turn  them  to  account." 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

HOW  KING  FERDINAND  PREPARED  TO  CARRY  THE    WAR  INTO  A 
DIFFERENT  PART  OF  THE  TERRITORIES  OF  THE  MOORS. 

THE  western  part  of  the  kingdom  of  Granada  had  now  been 
conquered  by  the  Christian  arms.  The  sea-port  of  Malaga  was 
captured :  the  fierce  and  warlike  inhabitants  of  the  Serrania 
de  Ronda,  and  the  other  mountain  holds  of  the  frontier,  were 
all  disarmed,  and  reduced  to  peaceful  and  laborious  vassalge ; 
their  haughty  fortresses,  which  had  so  long  overawed  the  val 
leys  of  Andalusia,  now  displayed  the  standard  of  Castile  and 
Arragon ;  the  watch-towers,  which  crowned  every  height,  and 
from  whence  the  infidels  had  kept  a  vulture  eye  over  the  Chris 
tian  territories,  were  now  either  dismantled,  or  garrisoned 
with  Catholic  troops.  "What  signalized  and  sanctified  this 
great  triumph,"  adds  the  worthy  Fray  Antonio  Agapida, 
* '  were  the  emblems  of  ecclesiastical  domination  which  every 
where  appeared.  In  every  direction  arose  stately  convents 
and  monasteries,  those  fortresses  of  the  faith,  garrisoned  by 
its  spiritual  soldiery  of  monks  and  friars.  The  sacred  melody 
of  Christian  bells  was  again  heard  among  the  mountains,  call- 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  249 

Ing  to  early  matins,  or  sounding  the  Angeles  at  the  solemn 
hour  of  evening." 

While  this  part  of  the  kingdom  was  thus  reduced  by  the 
Christian  sword,  the  central  part,  round  the  city  of  Granada, 
forming  the  heart  of  the  Moorish  territory,  was  held  in  vassal 
age  of  the  Castilian  monarch,  by  Boabdil,  surnamed  El  Chico. 
That  unfortunate  prince  lost  no  occasion  to  propitiate  the  con 
querors  of  his  country  by  acts  of  homage,  and  by  professions 
that  must  have  been  foreign  to  his  heart.  No  sooner  had  he 
heard  of  the  capture  of  Malaga,  than  he  sent  congratulations 
to  the  Catholic  sovereigns,  accompanied  with  presents  of  horses 
richly  caparisoned  for  the  king,  and  precious  cloth  of  gold  and 
oriental  perfumes  for  the  queen.  His  congratulations  and  his 
presents  were  received  with  the  utmost  graciousness ;  and 
the  short-sighted  prince,  lulled  by  the  temporary  and  politic 
forbearance  of  Ferdinand,  flattered  himself  that  he  was  secur 
ing  the  lasting  friendship  of  that  monarch. 

The  policy  of  Boabdil  had  its  transient  and  superficial  advan 
tages.  The  portion  of  Moorish  territory  under  his  immediate 
sway  had  a  respite  from  the  calamities  of  war :  the  husband 
men  cultivated  their  luxuriant  fields  in  security,  and  the  vega 
of  Granada  once  more  blossomed  like  the  rose.  The  merchants 
again  carried  on  a  gainful  traffic :  the  gates  of  the  city  were 
thronged  with  beasts  of  burden,  bringing  the  rich  products  of 
every  clime.  Yet,  while  the  people  of  Granada  rejoiced  in 
their  teeming  fields  and  crowded  marts,  they  secretly  despised 
the  policy  which  had  procured  them  these  advantages,  and 
held  Boabdil  for  little  better  than  an  apostate  and  an  unbeliever. 
Muley  Abdallah  el  Zagal  was  now  the  hope  of  the  unconquered 
part  of  the  kingdom ;  and  every  Moor,  whose  spirit  was  not 
quite  subdued  with  his  fortunes,  lauded  the  valor  of  the  old 
monarch  and  his  fidelity  to  the  faith,  and  wished  success  to 
his  standard. 

El  Zagal,  though  he  no  longer  sat  enthroned  in  the  Alham- 
bra,  yet  reigned  over  more  considerable  domains  than  his 
nephew.  His  territories  extended  from  the  frontier  of  Jaen 
along  the  borders  of  Murcia  to  the  Mediterranean,  and  reached 
into  the  centre  of  the  kingdom.  On  the  north-east,  he  held 
the  cities  of  Baza  and  Guadix,  situated  in  the  midst  of  fertile 
regions.  He  had  the  important  sea-port  of  Almeria,  also, 
which  at  one  time  rivalled  Granada  itself  in  wealth  and  popu 
lation.  Beside  these,  his  territories  included  a  great  part  of 
the  Alpuxarra  mountains,  which  extend  across  the  kingdom 


250  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

and  shoot  out  branches  towards  the  sea-coast.  This  mountain 
ous  region  was  a  strong-hold  of  wealth  and  power.  Its  stern 
and  rocky  heights,  rising  to  the  clouds,  seemed  to  set  invasion 
at  defiance ;  yet  within  their  rugged  embraces  were  sheltered 
delightful  valleys,  of  the  happiest  temperature  and  richest 
fertility.  The  cool  springs  and  limpid  rills  which  gushed  out 
in  all  parts  of  the  mountains,  and  the  abundant  streams, 
which,  for  a  great  part  of  the  year,  were  supplied  by  the 
Sierra  Nevada,  spread  a  perpetual  verdure  over  the  skirts  and 
slopes  of  the  hills,  and,  collecting  in  silver  rivers  in  the  valleys, 
wound  along  among  plantations  of  mulberry  trees,  and  groves 
of  oranges  and  citrons,  of  almonds,  figs,  and  pomegranates. 
Here  was  produced  the  finest  silk  of  Spain,  which  gave  em 
ployment  to  thousands  of  manufacturers.  The  sun-burnt  sides 
of  the  hills,  also,  were  covered  with  vineyards ;  the  abundant 
herbage  of  the  mountain  ravines,  and  the  rich  pasturage  of  the 
valleys,  fed  vast  flocks  and  herds ;  and  even  the  arid  and  rocky 
bosoms  of  the  heights  teemed  with  wealth,  from  the  mines  of 
various  metals  with  which  they  were  impregnated.  In  a 
word,  the  Alpuxarra  mountains  had  ever  been  the  great  source 
of  revenue  to  the  monarchs  of  Granada.  Their  inhabitants, 
also,  were  hardy  and  warlike,  and  a  sudden  summons  from 
the  Moorish  king  could  at  any  time  call  forth  fifty  thousand 
fighting  men  from  their  rocky  fastnesses. 

Such  was  the  rich  but  rugged  fragment  of  an  empire  which 
remained  under  the  sway  of  the  old  warrior  monarch  El  Zagal. 
The  mountain  barriers  by  which  it  was  locked  up,  had  pro 
tected  it  from  most  of  the  ravages  of  the  present  war.  El 
Zagal  prepared  himself,  by  strengthening  every  fortress,  to 
battle  fiercely  for  its  maintenance. 

The  Catholic  sovereigns  saw  that  fresh  troubles  and  toils 
awaited  them.  The  war  had  to  be  carried  into  a  new  quarter, 
demanding  immense  expenditures ;  and  new  ways  and  means 
must  be  devised  to  replenish  their  exhausted  coffers.  ' '  As  this 
was  a  holy  war,  however,"  says  Fray  Antonio  Agapida,  "  and 
peculiarly  redounded  to  the  prosperity  of  the  church,  the 
clergy  were  full  of  zeal,  and  contributed  vast  sums  of  money 
and  large  bodies  of  troops.  A  pious  fund  was  also  produced, 
from  the  first  fruits  of  that  glorious  institution,  the  Inquisi 
tion." 

It  so  happened,  that  about  this  time  there  were  many  fami 
lies  of  wealth  and  dignity  in  the  kingdoms  of  Arragon  and 
Valentia,  and  the  principality  of  Qatajonia,  whose  forefather^ 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

had  been  Jews,  but  had  been  converted  to  Christianity.  Not 
withstanding  the  outward  piety  of  these  families,  it  was  sur 
mised,  and  soon  came  to  be  strongly  suspected,  that  many  of 
them  had  a  secret  hankering  after  Judaism ;  and  it  was  even 
whispered,  that  some  of  them  practised  Jewish  rites  in  private. 

The  Catholic  monarch  (continues  Agapida)  had  a  righteous 
abhorrence  of  all  kinds  of  heresy,  and  a  fervent  zeal  for  the 
faith ;  he  ordered,  therefore,  a  strict  investigation  of  the  con 
duct  of  these  pseudo  Christians.  Inquisitors  were  sent  into 
these  provinces  for  the  purpose,  who  proceeded  with  their  ac 
customed  zeal.  The  consequence  was,  that  many  families  were 
convicted  of  apostasy  from  the  Christian  faith,  and  of  the  pri 
vate  practice  of  Judaism.  Some,  who  had  grace  and  policy 
sufficient  to  reform  in  time,  were  again  received  into  the  Chris 
tian  fold,  after  being  severely  mulcted  and  condemned  to 
heavy  penance;  others  were  burnt  at  auto  dafes,  for  the  edi 
fication  of  the  public,  and  their  property  was  confiscated  for 
the  good  of  the  state. 

As  these  Hebrews  were  of  great  wealth,  and  had  a  hereditary 
passion  for  jewelry,  there  was  found  abundant  store  in  their 
possession  of  gold  and  silver,  of  rings  and  necklaces,  and 
strings  of  pearl  and  coral,  and  precious  stones ;— treasures  easy 
of  transportation,  and  wonderfully  adapted  for  the  emergen 
cies  of  war.  "In  this  way,"  concludes  the  pious  Agapida, 
"these  backsliders,  by  the  all-seeing  contrivances  of  Provi 
dence,  were  made  to  serve  the  righteous  cause  w^hich  they  had 
so  treacherously  deserted ;  and  their  apostate  wealth  was  sanc 
tified  by  being  devoted  to  the  service  of  Heaven  and  the  crown, 
in  this  holy  crusade  against  the  infidels. " 

It  must  be  added,  however,  that  these  pious  financial  expe 
dients  received  some  check  from  the  interference  of  queen 
Isabella.  Her  penetrating  eyes  discovered  that  many  enormi 
ties  had  been  committed  under  color  of  religious  zeal,  and 
many  innocent  persons  accused  by  false  witnesses  of  apostasy, 
either  through  malice  or  a  hope  of  obtaining  their  wealth:  she 
caused  strict  investigation,  therefore,  into  the  proceedings 
which  had  been  held;  many  of  which  were  reversed,  and 
suborners  punished  in  proportion  to  their  guilt.* 

*  Pulgar,  part  3,  c,  100. 


252  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

HOW  KING  FERDINAND  INVADED  THE  EASTERN  SIDE  OF  THE 
KINGDOM  OF  GRANADA,  AND  HOW  HE  WAS  RECEIVED  BY  EL 
ZAGAL. 

"MULEY  ABD ALLAH  EL  ZAGAL,"  says  the  venerable  Jesuit 
father,  Pedro  Abarca,  "was  the  most  venomous  Mahometan 
in  all  Morisma:"  and  the  worthy  Fray  Antonio  Agapida  most 
devoutly  echoes  his  opinion;  "Certainly,"  adds  the  latter, 
"none  ever  opposed  a  more  heathenish  and  diabolical  obstinacy 
to  the  holy  inroads  of  the  cross  and  sword." 

El  Zagal  felt  that  it  was  necessary  to  do  something  to  quicken 
his  popularity  with  the  people,  and  that  nothing  was  more 
effectual  than  a  successful  inroad.  The  Moors  loved  the  stir 
ring  call  to  arms,  and  a  wild  foray  among  the  mountains ;  and 
delighted  more  in  a  hasty  spoil,  wrested  with  hard  fighting 
from  the  Christians,  than  in  all  the  steady  and  certain  gains 
secured  by  peaceful  traffic. 

There  reigned  at  this  time  a  careless  security  along  the  fron 
tier  of  Jaen.  The  alcaydes  of  the  Christian  fortresses  were 
confident  of  the  friendship  of  Boabdil  el  Chico,  and  they  fan 
cied  his  uncle  too  distant  and  too  much  engrossed  by  his  own 
perplexities,  to  think  of  molesting  them.  On  a  sudden,  El 
Zagal  issued  out  of  Guadix  with  a  chosen  band,  passed  rapidly 
through  the  mountains  which  extend  behind  Granada,  and  fell 
like  a  thunderbolt  upon  the  territories  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Alcala  la  Real.  Before  the  alarm  could  be  spread  and  the  fron 
tier  roused,  he  had  made  a  wide  career  of  destruction  through 
the  country,  sacking  and  burning  villages,  sweeping  off  flocks 
and  herds,  and  carrying  away  captives.  The  warriors  of  the 
frontier  assembled ;  but  El  Zagal  was  already  far  on  his  return 
through  the  mountains,  and  he  re-entered  the  gates  of  Guadix 
in  triumph,  his  army  laden  with  Christian  spoil,  and  conduct 
ing  an  immense  cavalgada.  Such  was  one  of  the  fierce  El 
Zagal's  preparatives  for  the  expected  invasion  of  the  Christian 
king,  exciting  the  warlike  spirit  of  his  people,  and  gaming  for 
himself  a  transient  popularity. 

King  Ferdinand  assembled  his  army  at  Murcia  in  the  spring 
of  1488.  He  left  that  city  on  the  fifth  of  June,  with  a  flying 
camp  of  four  thousand  horse  and  fourteen  thousand  foot.  The 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GttANADA.  Qfe 

marques  of  Cadiz  led  the  van,  followed  by  the  adelantado  of 
Murcia.  The  army  entered  the  Moorish  frontier  by  the  sea- 
coast,  spreading  terror  through  the  land ;  wherever  it  appeared, 
the  towns  surrendered  without  a  blow,  so  great  was  the  dread 
of  experiencing  the  woes  which  had  desolated  the  opposite 
frontier.  In  this  way,  Vera,  Yelez  el  Rubio,  Velez  el  Blanco, 
and  many  towns  of  inferior  note,  to  the  number  of  sixty, 
yielded  at  the  first  summons. 

It  was  not  until  it  approached  Almeria,  that  the  army  met 
with  resistance.  This  important  city  was  commanded  by 
the  prince  Zelim,  a  relation  of  El  Zagal.  He  led  forth  his 
Moors  bravely  to  the  encounter,  and  skirmished  fiercely  with 
the  advance  guard  in  the  gardens  near  the  city.  King  Ferdi 
nand  came  up  with  the  main  body  of  the  army,  and  called  off 
his  troops  from  the  skirmish.  He  saw  that  to  attack  the  place 
with  his  present  force  was  fruitless.  Having  reconnoitred  the 
city  and  its  environs,  therefore,  against  a  future  campaign,  he 
retired  with  his  army  and  marched  towards  Baza. 

The  old  warrior  El  Zagal  was  himself  drawn  up  in  the  city 
of  Baza,  with  a  powerful  garrison.  He  felt  confidence  in  the 
strength  of  the  place,  and  rejoiced  when  he  heard  that  the 
Christian  king  was  approaching.  In  the  valley  in  front  of 
Baza,  there  extended  a  great  tract  of  gardens,  like  a  continued 
grove,  and  intersected  by  canals  and  water-courses.  In  this  he 
stationed  a  powerful  ambuscade  of  arquebusiers  and  cross-bow 
men.  The  vanguard  of  the  Christian  army  came  marching 
gayly  up  the  valley,  with  great  sound  of  drum  and  trumpet, 
and  led  on  by  the  marques  of  Cadiz  and  the  adelantado  of 
Murcia. .  As  they  drew  near,  El  Zagal  sallied  forth  with  horse 
and  foot,  and  attacked  them  for  a  time  with  great  spirit. 
Gradually  falling  back,  as  if  pressed  by  their  superior  valor,  he 
drew  the  exulting  Christians  among  the  gardens.  Suddenly 
the  Moors  in  ambuscade  burst  from  their  concealment,  and 
opened  such  a  terrible  fire  in  flank  and  rear,  that  many  of 
the  Christians  were  slain,  and  the  rest  thrown  into  confusion. 
King  Ferdinand  arrived  in  time  to  see  the  disastrous  situation 
of  his  troops,  and  gave  signal  for  the  vanguard  to  retire. 

El  Zagal  did  not  permit  the  foe  to  draw  off  unmolested.  Or 
dering  out  fresh  squadrons,  he  fell  upon  the  rear  of  the  retreat 
ing  troops  with  loud  and  triumphant  shouts,  driving  them 
before  him  with  dreadful  havoc.  .  The  old  war-cry  of  "El 
Zagal !  El  Zagal !"  was  again  put  up  by  the  Moors,  and  was 
echoed  with  transport  from  the  walls  of  the  city.  The  Chris- 


254  Tim  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

tians  were  for  a  time  in  imminent  peril  of  a  complete  route, 
when  fortunately  the  adelantado  of  Murcia  threw  himself  with 
a  large  body  of  horse  and  foot  between  the  pursuers  and  the 
pursued,  covering  the  retreat  of  the  latter,  and  giving  them  time 
to  rally.  The  Moors  were  now  attacked  so  vigorously  in  turn, 
that  they  gave  over  the  unequal  contest,  and  drew  back  slowly 
into  the  city.  Many  valiant  cavaliers  were  slain  in  this  skir 
mish,  among  the  number  of  whom  was  Don  Philip  of  Arragon, 
Master  of  the  chivalry  of  St.  George  of  Montesor;  he  was 
illegitimate  son  of  the  king's  illegitimate  brother  Don  Carlos, 
and  his  death  was  greatly  bewailed  by  Ferdinand.  He  had 
formerly  been  archbishop  of  Palermo,  but  had  doffed  the  cas 
sock  for  the  euirass,  and  had  thus,  according  to  Fray  Antonio 
Agapida,  gained  a  glorious  crown  of  martyrdom  by  falling  in 
this  holy  war. 

The  warm  reception  of  his  advanced  guard  by  the  old  war 
rior  El  Zagal,  brought  king  Ferdinand  to  a  pause :  he  encamped 
on  the  banks  of  the  neighboring  river  Guadalquiton,  and  began 
to  consider  whether  he  had  acted  wisely  in  undertaking  this 
campaign  with  his  present  force.  His  late  successes  had  prob 
ably  rendered  him  over-confident :  El  Zagal  had  again  schooled 
him  into  his  characteristic  caution.  He  saw  that  the  old  war 
rior  was  too  formidably  ensconced  in  Baz  a,  to  be  dislodged  by 
any  thing  except  a  powerful  army  and  battering  artillery ;  and 
he  feared,  that  should  he  persist  in  his  invasion,  some  disaster 
might  befall  his  army,  either  from  the  enterprise  of  the  foe,  Or 
from  a  pestilence  which  prevailed  in  various  parts  of  the  coun 
try. 

Ferdinand  retired,  therefore,  from  before  Baza,  as  he  had  on 
a  former  occasion  from  before  Loxa,  all  the  wiser  for  a  whole 
some  lesson  in  warfare,  but  by  no  means  grateful  to  those  who 
had  given  it,  and  with  a  solemn  determination  to  have  his  re 
venge  upon  his  teachers. 

He  now  took  measures  for  the  security  of  the  places  gained 
in  this  campaign ;  placing  in  them  strong  garrisons,  well  armed 
and  supplied,  charging  their  alcaydes  to  be  vigilant  on  their 
posts  and  to  give  no  rest  to  the  enemy.  The  whole  of  the  fron 
tier  was  placed  under  the  command  of  the  brave  Luis  Fernan 
dez  Puerto  Carrero.  As  it  was  evident,  from  the  warlike 
character  of  El  Zagal,  that  there  would  be  abundance  of  active 
service  and  hard  fighting,  many  hidalgos  and  young  cavaliers, 
eager  for  distinction,  remained  with  Puerto  Carrero. 

All  these  dispositions  being  made,  king  Ferdinand  closed  the 


T1IK  CONQUEST  OP  GHANADA. 

dubious  campaign  of  this  year,  not,  as  usual,  by  returning  in 
triumph  at  the  head  of  his  army  to  some  important  city  of  his 
dominions,  but  by  disbanding  the  troops,  and  repairing  to  pray 
at  the  cross  of  Caravaca. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

HOW  THE  MOORS  MADE  VARIOUS  ENTERPRISES  AGAINST  THE 
CHRISTIANS. 

u  WHILE  the  pious  king  Ferdinand,"  observes  Fray  Antonie 
Agapida,  "  was  humbling  himself  before  the  cross,  and  devout 
ly  praying  for  the  destruction  of  his  enemies,  that  fierce  pagan 
El  Zagal,  depending  merely  on  his  arm  of  flesh  and  sword  of 
steel,  pursued  his  diabolical  outrages  upon  the  Christians."  No 
sooner  was  the  invading  army  disbanded,  than  El  Zagal  sallied 
forth  from  his  strong-hold,  and  carried  fire  and  sword  into  all 
those  parts  that  had  submitted  to  the  Spanish  yoke.  The  castle 
of  Nixar,  being  carelessly  guarded,  was  taken  by  surprise,  and 
its  garrison  put  to  the  sword.  The  old  warrior  raged  with 
sanguinary  fury  about  the  whole  frontier,  attacking  convoys, 
slaying,  wounding,  and  making  prisoners,  and  coming  by  sur 
prise  upon  the  Christians  wherever  they  were  off  their  guard. 

The  alcayde  of  the  fortress  of  Cullar,  confiding  in  the 
strength  of  its  walls  and  towers,  and  in  its  difficult  situation, 
being  built  on  the  summit  of  a  lofty  hill,  and  surrounded  by 
precipices,  ventured  to  absent  himself  from  his  post.  The  vigi 
lant  El  Zagal  was  suddenly  before  it,  with  a  powerful  force :  he 
stormed  the  town  sword  in  hand,  fought  the  Christians  from 
street  to  street,  and  drove  them,  with  great  slaughter,  to  the 
citadel.  Here  a  veteran  captain,  by  the  name  of  Juan  de  Ava- 
los,  a  gray-headed  warrior  scarred  in  many  a  battle,  assumed 
the  command  and  made  an  obstinate  defence.  Neither  the  mul 
titude  of  the  enemy,  nor  the  vehemence  of  their  attacks,  though 
led  on  by  the  terrible  El  Zagal  himself,  had  power  to  shake  the 
fortitude  of  this  doughty  old  soldier. 

The  Moors  undermined  the  outer  walls  and  one  of  the  towers 
of  the  fortress,  and  made  their  way  into  the  exterior  court. 
The  alcayde  manned  the  tops  of  his  towers,  pouring  down 
melted  pitch,  and  showering  darts,  arrows,  stones,  and  all 


Tim  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

kinds  of  missiles,  upon  the  assailants.  The  Moors  were  driven 
out  of  the  court ;  but,  being  reinforced  with  fresh  troops,  re 
turned  repeatedly  to  the  assault.  For  five  days  the  combat 
was  kept  up :  the  Christians  were  nearly  exhausted,  but  they 
were  sustained  by  the  cheerings  of  their  staunch  old  alcayde ; 
and  they  feared  death  from  the  cruel  El  Zagal,  should  they 
surrender.  At  length  the  approach  of  a  powerful  force  under 
Puerto  Carrero  relieved  them  from  this  fearful  peril.  El  Zagal 
abandoned  the  assault,  but  set  fire  to  the  town  in  his  rage  and 
disappointment,  and  retired  to  his  strong- hold  of  Guadix. 

The  example  of  El  Zagal  roused  his  adherents  to  action. 
Two  bold  Moorish  alcaydes,  Ali  Altar  and  Yza  Altar,  com 
manding  the  fortresses  of  Alhenden  and  Salobreila,  laid  waste 
the  country  of  the  subjects  of  Boabdil,  and  the  places  which 
had  recently  submitted  to  the  Christians :  they  swept  off  the 
cattle,  carried  off  captives,  and  harassed  the  whole  of  the 
newly  conquered  frontier. 

The  Moors  also  of  Almeria,  and  Tavernas,  and  Purchena, 
made  inroads  into  Murcia,  and  carried  fire  and  sword  into  its 
most  fertile  regions  On  the  opposite  frontier,  also,  among 
the  wild  valleys  and  rugged  recesses  of  the  Sierra  Bormeja,  or 
Red  Mountains,  many  of  the  Moors  who  had  lately  submitted 
again  flew  to  arms.  The  marques  of  Cadiz  suppressed  by 
timely  vigilance  the  rebellion  of  the  mountain  town  of  Gausin, 
situated  on  a  high  peak,  almost  among  the  clouds ;  but  others 
of  the  Moors  fortified  themselves  in  rock-built  towers  and 
castles,  inhabited  solely  by  warriors,  from  whence  they  car 
ried  on  a  continual  war  of  forage  and  depredation ;  sweeping 
suddenly  down  into  the  valleys,  and  carrying  off  flocks  and 
herds  and  all  kinds  of  booty  to  these  eagle-nests,  to  which  it 
was  perilous  and  fruitless  to  pursue  them. 

The  worthy  father  Fray  Antonio  Agapida  closes  his  history 
of  this  checkered  year,  in  quite  a  different  strain  from  those 
triumphant  periods  with  which  he  is  accustomed  to  wind  up 
the  victorious  campaigns  of  the  sovereigns.  ' '  Great  and 
mighty,"  says  this  venerable  chronicler,  "  were  the  floods  and 
tempests  which  prevailed  throughout  the  kingdoms  of  Castile 
and  Arragon,  about  this  time.  It  seemed  as  though  the  win 
dows  of  Heaven  were  again  opened,  and  a  second  deluge  over 
whelming  the  face  of  nature.  The  clouds  burst  as  it  were  in 
cataracts  upon  the  earth;  torrents  rushed  down  from  the 
mountains,  overflowing  the  valleys ;  brooks  were  swelled  into 
raging  rivers;  houses  were  undermined;  mills  were  swep\; 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  257 

away  by  their  own  streams ;  the  affrighted  shepherds  saw  their 
flocks  drowned  in  the  midst  of  the  pasture,  and  were  fain  to 
take  refuge  for  their  lives  in  towers  and  high  places.  The 
Guadalquivir  for  a  time  became  a  roaring  and  tumultuous  sea, 
inundating  the  immense  plain  of  the  Zablada,  and  filling  the 
fair  city  of  Seville  with  affright. 

u  A  vast  black  cloud  moved  over  the  land,  accompanied  by  a 
hurricane  and  a  trembling  of  the  earth.  Houses  were  im- 
roofed,  the  walls  and  battlements  of  fortresses  shaken,  and 
lofty  towers  rocked  to  their  foundations.  Ships,  riding  at 
anchor,  were  either  stranded  or  swallowed  up;  others,  under 
sail,  were  tossed  to  and  fro  upon  mountain  waves,  and  cast 
upon  the  land,  where  the  whirlwind  rent  them  in  pieces  and 
scattered  them  in  fragments  in  the  air.  Doleful  was  the  ruin 
and  great  the  terror,  when  this  baleful  cloud  passed  by ;  and 
it  left  a  long  track  of  desolation  over  sea  and  land.  Some  of 
the  faint-hearted,'' adds  Antonio  Agapida,  "looked  upon  this 
torment  of  the  elements  as  a  prodigious  event,  out  of  the 
course  of  nature.  In  the  weakness  of  their  fears,  they  con 
nected  it  with  those  troubles  which  occurred  in  various  places, 
considering  it  a  portent  of  some  great  calamity,  about  to  be 
wrought  by  the  violence  of  the  bloody-handed  El  Zagal  and 
his  fierce  adherents." 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

HOW   KING  FERDINAND  PREPARED  TO  BESIEGE   THE  CITY  OF   BAZA 
AND   HOW   THE    CITY   PREPARED   FOR  DEFENCE. 

THE  stormy  winter  had  passed  away,  and  the  spring  of  1489 
was  advancing ;  yet  the  heavy  rains  had  broken  up  the  roads, 
the  mountain  brooks  were  swoln  to  raging  torrents,  and  the 
late  shallow  and  peaceful  rivers  were  deep,  turbulent,  and 
dangerous.  The  Christian  troops  had  been  summoned  to 
assemble  in  early  spring  on  the  frontiers  of  Jaen,  but  were 
slow  in  arriving  at  the  appointed  place..  They  were  entangled 
in  the  miry  defiles  of  the  mountains,  or  fretted  impatiently  on 
the  banks  of  impassable  floods.  It  was  late  in  the  month  of 
May,  before  they  assembled  in  sufficient  force  to  attempt  the 
proposed  invasion ;  when,  at  length,  a  valiant  army,  of  thirteen 
thousand  horse  and  forty  thousand  foot,  marched  merrily 


258  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

the  border.  The  queen  remained  at  the  city  of  Jaen,  with  the 
prince-royal  and  the  princesses  her  children,  accompanied  and 
supported  by  the  venerable  cardinal  of  Spain,  and  those  rev 
erend  prelates  who  assisted  in  her  councils  throughout  this 
holy  war. 

The  plan  of  king  Ferdinand  was  to  lay  siege  to  the  city  of 
Baza,  the  key  of  the  remaining  possessions  of  the  Moor.  That 
important  fortress  taken,  Guadix  and  Almeria  must  soon 
follow,  and  then  the  power  of  El  Zagal  would  be  at  an  end. 
As  the  Catholic  king  advanced,  he  had  first  to  secure  various 
castles  and  strong-holds  in  the  vicinity  of  Baza,  which  might 
otherwise  harass  his  army.  Some  of  these  made  obstinate 
resistance,  especially  the  town  of  Cuxar.  The  Christians  as 
sailed  the  walls  with  various  machines,  to  sap  them  and  batter 
them  down.  The  brave  alcayde,  Hubec  Adalgan,  opposed 
force  to  force  and  engine  to  engine.  He  manned  his  towers 
with  his  bravest  warriors,  who  rained  down  an  iron  shower 
upon  the  enemy ;  and  he  linked  cauldrons  together  by  strong 
chains,  and  cast  fire  from  them,  consuming  the  wooden  engines 
of  their  assailants,  and  those  who  managed  them. 

The  siege  was  protracted  for  several  days :  the  bravery  of 
the  alcayda  could  not  save  his  fortress  from  an  overwhelming 
foe,  but  it  gained  him  honorable  terms.  Ferdinand  permitted 
the  garrison  and  the  inhabitants  to  repair  with  their  effects  to 
Baza;  and  the  valiant  Hubec  Adalgan  marched  forth  with  the 
remnant  of  his  force,  and  took  the  way  to  that  devoted  city. 

The  delays  which  had  been  caused  to  the  invading  army  by 
these  various  circumstances,  had  been  diligently  improved  by 
the  old  Moorish  monarch  El  Zagal;  who  felt  that  ho  was  now 
making  his  last  stand  for  empire,  and  that  this  campaign 
would  decide,  whether  he  should  continue  a  king,  or  sink  into 
a  vassal.  El  Zagal  was  but  a  few  leagues  from  Baza,  at  the 
city  of  Guadix.  This  last  was  the  most  important  point  of  his 
remaining  territories,  being  a  kind  of  bulwark  between  them 
and  the  hostile  city  of  Granada,  the  scat  of  his  nephew's 
power.  Though  he  heard  of  the  tide  of  war,  therefore,  that 
was  collecting  and  rolling  towards  the  city  of  Baza,  he  dared 
not  go  in  person  to  its  assistance.  He  dreaded  that,  should  he 
leave  Guadix,  Boabdil  would  attack  him  in  rear  while  the 
Christian  army  was  battling  with  him  in  front.  El  Zagal 
trusted  in  the  great  strength  of  Baza,  to  defy  any  violent 
assault ;  and  he  profited  by  the  delays  of  the  Christian  army, 
to  supply  it  with  all  possible  means  of  defence,  He  sent 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  Ofr) 

thither  all  the  troops  he  could  spare  from  his  garrison  of 
Guadix,  and  dispatched  missives  throughout  his  territories, 
calling  upon  true  Moslems  to  hasten  to  Baza,  to  make  a  de 
voted  stand  in  defence  of  their  homes,  their  liberties,  and  their 
religion.  The  cities  of  Tavernas  and  Purchena,  and  the  sur 
rounding  heights  and  valleys,  responded  to  his  orders  and  sent 
forth  their  fighting  men  to  the  field.  The  rocky  fastnesses  of 
the  Alpuxarras  resounded  with  the  din  of  arms:  troops  of 
horse  and  bodies  of  foot-soldiers  were  seen  winding  down  the 
rugged  cliffs  and  defiles  of  those  marble  mountains,  and 
hastening  towards  Baza.  Many  brave  cavaliers  of  Granada 
also,  spurning  the  quiet  and  security  of  Christian  vassalage, 
secretly  left  the  city  and  hastened  to  join  their  fighting 
countrymen.  The  great  dependence  of  El  Zagal,  however,  was 
upon  the  valor  and  loyalty  of  his  cousin  and  brother-in-law, 
Cidi  Yah  ye  Alnayar  Aben  Zelim,  who  was  alcayde  of  Almeria, 
—  a  cavalier  experienced  in  warfare,  and  redoubtable  in  the 
field.  He  wrote  to  him  to  leave  Almeria,  and  repair,  with  all 
speed,  at  the  head  of  his  troops,  to  Baza.  Cidi  Yahye  departed 
immediately,  with  ten  thousand  of  the  bravest  Moors  in  the 
kingdom.  These  were  for  the  most  part  hardy  mountaineers, 
tempered  to  sun  and  storm,  and  tried  in  many  a  combat. 
None  equalled  them  for  a  sally  or  a  skirmish.  They  were 
adroit  in  executing  a  thousand  stratagems,  ambuscadocs,  and 
evolutions.  Impetuous  in  their  assaults,  yet  governed  in  their 
utmost  fury  by  a  word  or  sign  from  their  commander,  at  the 
sound  of  a  trumpet  they  would  check  themselves  in  the  midst 
of  their  career,  wheel  off  and  disperse ;  and  at  another  sound 
of  a  trumpet,  they  would  as  suddenly  re-assemble  and  return 
to  the  attack.  They  were  upon  the  enemy  when  least  ex 
pected,  coming  like  a  rushing  blast,  spreading  havoc  and  con 
sternation,  and  then  passing  away  in  an  instant ;  so  that  when 
one  recovered  from  the  shock  and  looked  around,  behold  noth 
ing  was  to  be  seen  or  heard  of  this  tempest  of  war,  but  a  cloud 
of  dust  and  the  clatter  of  retreating  hoofs. 

When  Cidi  Yahye  led  his  train  of  ten  thousand  valiant 
warriors  into  the  gates  of  Baza,  the  city  rang  with  acclama 
tions,  and  for  a  time  the  inhabitants  thought  themselves 
secure.  El  Zagal,  also,  felt  a  glow  of  confidence,  notwith 
standing  his  own  absence  from  the  city.  "Cidi  Yahye,"  said 
he,  "is  my  cousin  and  my  brother-in-law;  related  to  me  by 
blood  and  marriage,  he  is  a  second  self:  happy  is  that  mon 
arch  who  has  his  kindred  to  command  his  armies." 


260  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

With  all  these  reinforcements,  the  garrison  of  Baza  amount 
ed  to  above  twenty  thousand  men.  There  were  at  this  time 
three  principal  leaders  in  the  city :— Mohammed  ben  Hassan, 
surnamed  the  veteran,  who  was  military  governor  or  alcayde, 
an  old  Moor  of  great  experience  and  discretion;  the  second 
was  Hamet  Abu  Zali,  who  was  captain  of  the  troops  stationed 
in  the  place;  and  the  third  was  Hubec  Adalgan,  the  valiant 
alcayde  of  Cuxar,  who  had  repaired  hither  with  the  remains 
of  his  garrison.  Over  all  these  Cidi  Yahye  exercised  a  su 
preme  command,  in  consequence  of  his  being  of  the  blood- 
royal,  and  in  the  especial  confidence  of  Muley  Abdallah  el 
Zagal.  He  was  eloquent  and  ardent  in  council,  and  fond  of 
striking  and  splendid  achievements ;  but  he  was  a  little  prone 
to  be  carried  away  by  the  excitement  of  the  moment,  and  the 
warmth  of  his  imagination.  The  councils  of  war  of  these 
commanders,  therefore,  were  more  frequently  controlled  by 
the  opinions  of  the  old  alcayde  Mohammed  ben  Hassan,  for 
whose  shrewdness,  caution,  and  experience,  Cidi  Yahye  him 
self  felt  the  greatest  deference. 

The  city  of  Baza  was  situated  in  a  great  valley,  eight  leagues 
in  length  and  three  in  breadth,  called  the  Hoya,  or  basin  of 
Baza.  It  was  surrounded  by  a  range  of  mountains,  called  the 
Sierra  of  Xabalcohol,  the  streams  of  which,  collecting  them 
selves  into  two  rivers,  watered  and  fertilized  the  country. 
The  city  was  built  in  the  plain ;  but  one  part  of  it  was  pro 
tected  by  the  rocky  precipices  of  the  mountain,  and  by  a 
powerful  citadel;  the  other  part  was  defended  by  massive 
walls,  studded  with  immense  towers.  It  had  suburbs  towards 
the  plain,  imperfectly  fortified  by  earthen  walls.  In  front  of 
these  suburbs  extended  a  tract  of  orchards  and  gardens  nearly 
a  league  in  length,  so  thickly  planted  as  to  resemble  a  con 
tinual  forest.  Here,  every  citizen  who  could  afford  it,  had  his 
little  plantation,  and  his  garden  of  fruits  and  flowers  and 
vegetables,  watered  by  canals  and  rivulets,  and  dominated  by 
a  small  tower  to  serve  for  recreation  or  defence.  This  wil 
derness  of  groves  and  gardens,  intersected  in  all  parts  by 
canals  and  runs  of  water,  and  studded  by  above  a  thousand 
small  towers,  formed  a  kind  of  protection  to  this  side  of  the 
city,  rendering  all  approach  extremely  difficult  and  perplexed, 
and  affording  covert  to  the  defenders. 

While  the  Christian  army  had  bocii  detained  before  the  fron 
tier  posts,  the  city  of  Baza  had  been  a  scene  of  hurried  and 
unremitting  preparation.  All  the  grain  of  the  surrounding 


TllK  CONQUEST  Ob1  U 11  AX  AD  A.  261 

valley,  though  yet  unripe,  was  hastily  reaped  and  borne  into 
the  city,  to  prevent  it  from-  yielding  sustenance  to  the  enemy. 
The  country  was  drained  of  all  its  supplies ;  flocks  and  herds 
were  driven,  bleating  and  bellowing,  into  the  gates;  long 
trains  of  beasts  of  burthen,  some  laden  with  food,  others  with 
lances,  darts,  and  arms  of  all  kinds,  kept  pouring  into  the 
place.  Already  there  were  munitions  collected  sufficient  for  a 
siege  of  fifteen  months ;  yet  still  the  eager  and  hasty  prepara 
tion  was  going  on,  when  the  army  of  Ferdinand  came  in  sight. 

On  one  side  might  be  seen  scattered  parties  of  foot  and 
horse  spurring  to  the  gates,  and  muleteers  hurrying  forward 
their  burthened  animals,  all  anxious  to  get  under  shelter 
before  the  gathering  storm;  on  the  other  side,  the  cloud  of 
war  came  sweeping  down  the  valley,  the  roll  of  drum  or  clang 
of  trumpet  resounding  occasionally  from  its  deep  bosom,  or 
the  bright  glance  of  arms  flashing  forth,  like  vivid  lightning, 
from  its  columns.  King  Ferdinand  pitched  his  tents  in  the 
valley,  beyond  the  green  labyrinth  of  gardens.  He  sent  his 
heralds  to  summon  the  city  to  surrender,  promising  the  most 
favorable  terms  in  case  of  immediate  compliance,  and  avowing 
in  the  most  solemn  terms  his  resolution  never  to  abandon  the 
siege  until  he  had  possession  of  the  place. 

Upon  receiving  this  summons,  the  Moorish  commanders  held 
a  council  of  war.  The  prince  Cidi  Yahye,  indignant  at  the 
menace  of  the  king,  was  for  retorting  by  a  declaration  that 
the  garrison  never  would  surrender,  but  would  fight  until 
buried  under  the  ruins  of  the  walls.  "Of  what  avail,"  said 
the  veteran  Mohammed,  "is  a  declaration  of  the  kind,  which 
we  may  falsify  by  our  deeds?  Let  us  threaten  what  we  know 
we  can  perform,  and  let  us  endeavor  to  perform  more  than  we 
threaten. " 

In  conformity  to  the  advice  of  Mohammed  ben  Hassan, 
therefore,  a  laconic  reply  was  sent  to  the  Christian  monarch, 
thanking  him  for  his  offer  of  favorable  terms,  but  informing 
him  they  were  placed  in  the  city  to  defend,  not  to  surrender  it. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  GARDENS  BEFORE  BAZA. 

WHEN  the  reply  of  the  Moorish  commanders  was  brought  to 
King  Ferdinand,  he  prepared  to  press  the  siege  with  the  utmost 


262  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

rigor.  Finding  the  camp  too  far  from  the  city,  and  that  the 
intervening  orchards  afforded  shelter  for  the  sallies  of  the 
Moors,  he  determined  to  advance  it  beyond  the  gardens,  in  tho 
space  between  them  and  the  suburbs,  where  his  batteries  would 
have  full  play  upon  the  city  walls.  A  detachment  was  sent  in 
advance,  to  take  possession  of  the  gardens,  and  to  keep  a  check 
upon  the  suburbs,  opposing  any  sally,  while  the  encampment 
should  be  formed  and  fortified.  The  various  commanders  en 
tered  the  orchards  at  different  points.  The  young  cavaliers 
marched  fearlessly  forward,  but  the  experienced  veterans  fore 
saw  infinite  peril  in  the  mazes  of  this  verdant  labyrinth.  The 
Master  of  St.  Jago,  as  he  led  his  troops  into  the  centre  of  the 
gardens,  exhorted  them  to  keep  by  one  another,  and  to  press 
forward  in  defiance  of  all  difficulty  or  danger ;  assuring  them 
that  God  would  give  them  the  victory,  if  they  attacked  hardily 
and  persisted  resolutely. 

Scarce  had  they  entered  the  verge  of  the  orchards,  when  a 
din  of  drums  and  trumpets,  mingled  with  war-cries,  was  heard 
from  the  suburbs,  and  a  legion  of  Moorish  warriors  on  foot 
poured  forth.  They  were  led  on  by  the  prince  Cidi  Yahye.  He 
saw  the  imminent  danger  of  the  city,  should  the  Christians 
gain  possession  of  the  orchards.  "Soldiers,"  he  cried,  "we 
fight  for  life  and  liberty,  for  our  families,  our  country,  our 
religion ;  *  nothing  is  left  for  us  to  depend  upon  but  the  strength 
of  our  hands,  the  courage  of  our  hearts,  and  the  almighty  pro 
tection  of  Allah."  The  Moors  answered  him  with  shouts  of  war, 
and  rushed  to  the  encounter.  The  two  hosts  met  in  the  midst 
of  the  gardens.  A  chance  medley  combat  ensued,  with  lances, 
arquebusses,  cross-bows,  and  scimitars ;  the  perplexed  nature  of 
the  ground,  cut  up  and  intersected  by  canals  and  streams,  the 
closeness  of  the  trees,  the  multiplicity  of  towers  and  petty  edi 
fices,  gave  greater  advantages  to  the  Moors,  who  were  on  foot, 
than  to  the  Christians,  who  were  on  horseback.  The  Moors, 
too,  knew  the  ground,  with  all  its  alleys  and  passes ;  and  were 
thus  enabled  to  lurk,  to  sally  forth,  to  attack,  and  to  retreat, 
almost  without  injury. 

The  Christian  commanders,  seeing  this,  ordered  many  of  the 
horsemen  to  dismount  and  fight  on  foot.  The  battle  then  be 
came  fierce  and  deadly,  each  disregarding  his  own  life,  provided 
he  could  slay  his  enemy.  It  was  not  so  much  a  general  battle 

*  "  Illi  (Mauri)  pro  fortunis,  pro  liberate,  pro  laribus  patriis,  pro  vita  denique  cerr 
tabant."— Pietro  Martyr,  Epist,  79. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  263 

as  a  multitude  of  petty  actions ;  for  every  orchard  and  garden 
had  its  distinct  contest.  No  one  could  see  further  than  the  little 
scene  of  fury  and  bloodshed  around  him,  nor  know  how  the 
general  battle  fared.  In  vain  the  captains  exerted  their  voices, 
in  vain  the  trumpets  brayed  forth  signals  and  commands — all 
was  confounded  and  unheard  in  the  universal  din  and  uproar. 
No  one  kept  to  his  standard,  but  fought  as  his  own  fury  or  fear 
dictated.  In  some  places  the  Christians  had  the  advantage,  in 
others  the  Moors ;  often,  a  victorious  party,  pursuing  the  van- 
quished,  came  upon  a  superior  and  triumphant  force  of  the 
enemy,  and  the  fugitives  turned  back  upon  them  in  an  over 
whelming  wave.  Some  broken  remnants,  in  their  terror  and 
confusion,  fled  from  their  own  countrymen  and  sought  refuge 
among  their  enemies,  not  knowing  friend  from  foe,  in  the 
obscurity  of  the  groves.  The  Moors  were  more  adroit  in  these 
wild  skirmishings,  from  their  flexibility,  lightness,  and  agility, 
and  the  rapidity  with  which  they  would  disperse,  rally,  and 
return  again  to  the  charge.* 

The  hardest  fighting  was  about  the  small  garden  towers  and 
pavilions,  which  served  as  so  many  petty  fortresses.  Each 
party  by  turns  gained  them,  defended  them  fiercely,  and  were 
driven  out ;  many  of  the  towers  were  set  on  fire,  and  increased 
the  horrors  of  the  fight  by  the  wreaths  of  smoke  and  flame  in 
which  they  wrapped  the  groves,  and  by  the  shrieks  of  those 
who  were  burning. 

Several  of  the  Christian  cavaliers,  bewildered  by  the  uproar 
and  confusion,  and  shocked  at  the  carnage  which  prevailed, 
would  have  led  their  men  out  of  the  action;  but  they  were 
entangled  in  a  labyrinth,  and  knew  not  which  way  to  retreat. 
While  in  this  perplexity,  the  standard-bearer  of  one  of  the 
squadrons  of  the  grand  cardinal  had  his  arm  carried  off  by  a 
cannon-ball ;  the  standard  was  well-nigh  falling  into  the  hands 
of  the  enemy,  when  Roderigo  de  Mendoza,  an  intrepid  youth, 
natural  son  of  the  grand  cardinal,  rushed  to  its  rescue,  through 
a  shower  of  balls,  lances,  and  arrows,  and,  bearing  it  aloft, 
dashed  forward  with  it  into  the  hottest  of  the  combat,  followed 
by  his  shouting  soldiery. 

King  Ferdinand,  who  remained  in  the  skirts  of  the  orchard, 
was  in  extreme  anxiety.  It  was  impossible  to  see  much  of  the 
action,  for  the  multiplicity  of  trees  and  towers,  and  the  wreaths 
of  smoke ;  and  those  who  were  driven  out  defeated,  or  came 

*  Mariana,  lib.  25,  oap.  13, 


264  TUtt  CONQUEST   OP   GRANADA. 

out  wounded  and  exhausted,  gave  different  accounts,  accord 
ing  to  the  fate  of  the  partial  conflicts  in  which  they  had  been 
engaged.  Ferdinand  exerted  himself  to  the  utmost  to  animate 
and  encourage  his  troops  to  this  blind  encounter,  sending  rein 
forcements  of  horse  and  foot  to  those  points  where  the  battle 
was  most  sanguinary  and  doubtful. 

Among  those  who  were  brought  forth  mortally  wounded  was 
Don  Juan  de  Luna,  a  youth  of  uncommon  merit,  greatly  prized 
by  the  king,  beloved  by  the  army,  and  recently  married  to 
Donna  Catalina  de  Urrea,  a  young  lady  of  distinguished 
beauty.*  They  laid  Mm  at  the  foot  of  a  tree,  and  endeavored 
to  stanch  and  bind  up  his  wounds  with  a  scarf  which  his  bride 
had  wrought  for  him ;  but  his  life-blood  flowed  too  profusely ; 
and  while  a  holy  friar  was  yet  administering  to  him  the  last 
sacred  offices  of  the  church,  he  expired,  almost  at  the  feet  of 
his  sovereign. 

On  the  other  halid,  the  veteran  alcayde  Mohammed  ben  Has 
san,  surrounded  by  a  little  band  of  chieftains,  kept  an  anxious 
eye  upon  the  scene  of  combat  from  the  wans  of  the  city.  For 
nearly  twelve  hours  the  battle  had  raged  without  intermission. 
The  thickness  of  the  foliage  hid  all  the  particulars  from  their 
sight ;  but  they  could  see  the  flash  of  swords  and  glance  of  hel 
mets  among  the  trees.  Columns  of  smoke  rose  in  every  direc 
tion,  while  tlie  clash  of  arms,  the  thundering  of  ribadoquines 
and  arquebusses,  the  shouts  and  cries  of  the  combatants,  and 
the  groans  and  supplications  of  the  wounded,  bespoke  the 
deadly  conflict  that  was  waging  in  the  bosom  of  the  groves. 
They  were  harassed,  too,  by  the  shrieks  and  lamentations  of 
the  Moorish  women  and  children,  as  their  wounded  relations 
were  brought  bleeding  from  the  scene  of  action;  and  were 
stunned  by  a  general  outcry  of  woe  on  the  part  of  the  inhabi 
tants,  as  the  body  of  Eedoan  Zalfarga,  a  renegado  Christian, 
and  one  of  the  bravest  of  their  generals,  was  borne  breathless 
into  the  city. 

At  length  the  din  of  battle  approached  nearer  to  the  skirts  of 
the  orchards.  They  beheld  their  warriors  driven  out  from 
among  the  groves  by  fresh  squadrons  of  the  enemy,  and,  after 
disputing  the  ground  inch  by  inch,  obliged  to  retire  to  a  place 
between  the  orchards  and  the  suburbs,  which  was  fortified 
with  palisadoes. 

The  Christians  immediately  planted  opposing  palisadoes,  and 

*  Mariana.    P.  Martyr.    Zurita. 


THE  CONQUEST  G'F  OR  AN  AD  A,  265 

established  strong  outposts  near  to  this  retreat  of  the  Moors ; 
while,  at  the  same  time,  king  Ferdinand  ordered  that  his  en 
campment  should  be  pitched  within  the  hard- won  orchards. 

Mohammed  ben  Hassan  sallied  forth  to  the  aid  of  the  prince 
Cidi  Yahye,  and  made  a  desperate  attempt  to  dislodge  the 
enemy  from  this  formidable  position :  but  the  night  had  closed, 
and  the  darkness  rendered  it  impossible  to  make  any  impres 
sion.  The  Moors,  however,  kept  up  constant  assaults  and 
alarms,  throughout  the  night;  and  the  weary  Christians,  ex 
hausted  by  the  toils  and  sufferings  of  the  day,  were  not  allowed 
a  moment  of  repose.* 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

SIEGE  OF  BAZA— EMBARRASSMENTS  OF  THE  ARMY. 

THE  morning  sun  rose  upon  a  piteous  scene,  before  the  walls 
of  Baza.  The  Christian  outposts,  harassed  throughout  the 
night,  were  pale  and  haggard;  while  the  multitudes  of  slain 
which  lay  before  their  palisadoes,  showed  the  fierce  attacks 
they  had  sustained,  and  the  bravery  of  their  defence. 

Beyond  them  lay  the  groves  and  gardens  of  Baza ;  once,  the 
favorite  resorts  for  recreation  and  delight— now,  a  scene  of 
horror  and  desolation.  The  towers  and  pavilions  were  smok 
ing  ruins ;  the  canals  and  water-courses  were  discolored  with 
blood,  and  choked  with  the  bodies  of  the  slain.  Here  and 
there,  the  ground,  deep  dinted  with  the  tramp  of  man  and 
steed,  and  plashed  and  slippery  with  gore,  showed  where  there 
had  been  some  fierce  and  mortal  conflict ;  while  the  bodies  of 
Moors  and  Christians,  ghastly  in  death,  lay  half  concealed 
among  the  matted  and  trampled  shrubs,  and  flowers,  and 
herbage. 

Amidst  these  sanguinary  scenes  arose  the  Christian  tents, 
which  had  been  hastily  pitched  among  the  gardens  in  the  pre 
ceding  evening.  The  experience  of  the  night,  however,  and 
the  forlorn  aspect  of  every  thing  in  the  morning,  convinced 
king  Ferdinand  of  the  perils  and  hardships  to  which  his  camp 
must  be  exposed,  in  its  present  situation ;  and,  after  a  consul- 

*  Vulgar,  part  3,  cap.  106,  107.      Cura  de   los  Palacios,  cap.  92.     Zurita,  lib.  20, 
cap.  81. 


£66  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

tation  with  his  principal  cavaliers,  he  resolved  to  abandon  the 
orchards. 

It  was  a  dangerous  movement,  to  extricate  his  army  from 
so  entangled  a  situation,  in  the  face  of  so  alert  and  daring  an 
enemy.  A  bold  front  was  therefore  kept  up  towards  the  city ; 
additional  troops  were  ordered  to  the  advanced  posts,  and 
works  begun  as  if  for  a  settled  encampment.  Not  a  tent  was 
struck  in  the  gardens ;  but  in  the  mean  time,  the  most  active 
and  unremitting  exertions  were  made  to  remove  all  the  bag 
gage  and  furniture  of  the  camp  back  to  the  original  station. 

AH  day,  the  Moors  beheld  a  formidable  show  of  war  main 
tained  in  front  of  the  gardens ;  while  in  the  rear,  the  tops  of 
the  Christian  tents,  and  the  pennons  of  the  different  com 
manders,  were  seen  rising  above  the  groves.  Suddenly,  to 
wards  evening,  the  tents  sunk  and  disappeared :  the  outposts 
broke  up  their  stations  and  withdrew,  and  the  whole  shadow 
of  an  encampment  was  fast  vanishing  from  their  eyes. 

The  Moors  saw  too  late  the  subtle  manoeuvre  of  king  Ferdi 
nand.  Cidi  Yahye  again  sallied  forth  with  a  large  force  of 
horse  and  foot,  and  pressed  furiously  upon  the  Christians. 
The  latter,  however,  experienced  in  Moorish  attack,  retired  in 
close  order,  sometimes  turning  upon  the  enemy  and  driving 
them  to  their  barricadoes,  and  then  pursuing  their  retreat.  In 
this  wayTthe  army  was  extricated,  without  much  further  loss, 
from  the  perilous  labyrinths  of  the  gardens. 

The  camp  was  now  out  of  danger ;  but  it  was  also  too  distant 
from  the  city  to  do  mischief,  while  the  Moors  could  sally  forth 
and  return  without  hindrance.  The  king  called  a  council  of 
war,  to  consider  in  what  manner  to  proceed.  The  marques  of 
Cadiz  was  for  abandoning  the  siege  for  the  present,  the  place 
being  too  strong,  too  well  garrisoned  and  provided,  and  too  ex 
tensive,  to  be  either  carried  by  assault  or  invested  and  reduced 
by  famine,  with  their  limited  forces ;  while,  in  lingering  before 
it,  the  army  wauld  be  exposed  to  the  usual  maladies  and  suf 
ferings  of  besieging  armies,  and,  when  the  rainy  season  came 
on,  would  be  shut  up  by  the  swelling  of  the  rivers.  He  recom 
mended,  instead,  that  the  king  should  throw  garrisons  of  horse 
and  foot  into  all  the  towns  captured  in  the  neighborhood,  and 
leave  them  to  keep  up  a  predatory  war  upon  Baza,  while  he 
should  overrun  and  ravage  all  the  country ;  so  that,  in  the  fol 
lowing  year,  Almeria  and  Guadix,  having  all  their  subject 
towns  and  territories  taken  from  them,  might  be  starved  into 
submission. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF -GxAflALA.  267 

Don  Gutiere  de  Cardenas,  senior  commander  of  Leon,  on  the 
other  hand,  maintained  that  to  abandon  the  siege  would  be 
construed  by  the  enemy  into  a  sign  of  weakness  and  irresolu 
tion.  It  would  give  new  spirits  to  the  partisans  of  El  Zagal, 
and  would  gain  to  his  standard  many  of  the  wavering  subjects 
of  Boabdil,  if  it  did  not  encourage  the  fickle  populace  of  Gra 
nada  to  open  rebellion.  He  advised  therefore  that  the  siege 
should  be  prosecuted  with  vigor. 

The  pride  of  Ferdinand  pleaded  in  favor  of  the  last  opinion ; 
for  it  would  be  doubly  humiliating,  again  to  return  from  a 
campaign  in  this  part  of  the  Moorish  kingdom,  without  effect 
ing  a  blow.  But  when  he  reflected  on  all  that  his  army  had 
suffered,  and  on  all  that  they  must  suffer  should  the  siege  con 
tinue—especially  from  the  difficulty  of  obtaining  a  regular  sup 
ply  of  provisions  for  so  numerous  a  host,  across  a  great  extent 
of  rugged  and  mountainous  country— he  determined  to  consult 
the  safety  of  his  people,  and  to  adopt  the  advice  of  the  marques 
of  Cadiz. 

When  the  soldiery  heard  that  the  king  was  about  to  raise 
the  siege  in  mere  consideration  of  their  sufferings,  they  were 
filled  with  generous  enthusiasm,  and  entreated,  as  with  one 
voice,  that  the  siege  might  never  be  abandoned  until  the  city 
surrendered. 

Perplexed  by  conflicting  counsels,  the  king  dispatched  mes 
sengers  to  the  queen  at  Jaen,  requesting  her  advice.  Posts 
had  been  stationed  between  them,  in  such  manner  that  mis 
sives  from  the  camp  could  reach  the  queen  within  ten  hours. 
Isabella  sent  instantly  her  reply.  She  left  the  policy  of  raising 
or  continuing  the  siege  to  the  decision  of  the  king  and  his  cap 
tains  ;  but  should  they  determine  to  persevere,  she  pledged  her 
self,  with  the  aid  of  God,  to  forward  them  men,  money,  pro 
visions,  and  all  other  supplies,  until  the  city  should  be  taken. 

The  reply  of  the  queen  determined  Ferdinand  to  persevere  • 
and  when  his  determination  was  made  known  to  the  army,  it 
was  hailed  with  as  much  joy  as  if  it  had  been  tidings  of  a 
victory. 


268  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

SIEGE  OF  BAZA  CONTINUED— HOW  KING  FERDINAND  COMPLETELY 
INVESTED  THE  CITY. 

THE  Moorish  prince  Cidi  Yahye  had  received  tidings  of  the 
doubts  and  discussions  in  the  Christian  camp,  and  flattered 
himself  with  hopes  that  the  besieging  army  would  soon  retire 
in  despair,  though  the  veteran  alcayde  Mohammed  shook  his 
head  with  incredulity  at  the  suggestion.  A  sudden  movement, 
one  morning,  in  the  Christian  camp,  seemed  to  confirm  the 
sanguine  hopes  of  the  prince.  The  tents  were  struck,  the  ar 
tillery  and  baggage  were  conveyed  away,  and  bodies  of  soldiers 
began  to  march  along  the  valley.  The  momentary  gleam  of 
triumph  was  soon  dispelled.  The  Catholic  king  had  merely 
divided  his  host  into  two  camps,  the  more  effectually  to  dis 
tress  the  city.  One,  consisting  of  four  thousand  horse  and 
eight  thousand  foot,  with  all  the  artillery  and  battering  en 
gines,  took  post  on  the  side  of  the  city  towards  the  mountain. 
This  was  commanded  by  the  valiant  marques  of  Cadiz,  with 
whom  were  Don  Alonzo  de  Aguilar,  Luis  Fernandez  Puerto 
Carrero,  and  many  other  distinguished  cavaliers. 

The  other  camp  was  commanded  by  the  king,  having  six 
thousand  horse  and  a  great  host  of  foot-soldiers,  the  hardy 
mountaineers  of  Biscay,  Guipuscon,  Gallicia,  and  the  Asturias. 
Among  the  cavaliers  who  were  with  the  king  were  the  brave 
count  de  Tendilla,  Don  Roderigo  de  Mendoza,  and  Don  Alonzo 
de  Cardenas,  Master  of  Santiago.  The  two  camps  were  wide 
asunder,  on  opposite  sides  of  the  city,  and  between  them  lay 
the  thick  wilderness  of  orchards.  Both  camps  were  therefore 
fortified  by  great  trenches,  breastworks,  and  palisadoes.  The 
veteran  Mohammed,  as  he  saw  these  two  formidable  camps 
glittering  on  each  side  of  the  city,  and  noted  the  well-known 
pennons  of  renowned  commanders  fluttering  above  them,  still 
comforted  his  companions:  "These  camps, "  said  he,  "are  too 
far  removed  from  each  other,  for  mutual  succor  and  co-opera 
tion;  and  the  forest  of  orchards  is  as  a  gulf  between  them." 
This  consolation  was  but  of  short  continuance.  Scarcely  were 
the  Christian  camps  fortified,  when  the  ears  of  the  Moorish 
garrison  were  startled  by  the  sound  of  innumerable  axes,  and 
the  crash  of  fallen  trees.  They  looked  with  anxiety  from  their 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  OR  AN  AD  A.  269 

highest  towers,  and  behold,  their  favorite  groves  were  sinking 
beneath  the  blows  of  the  Christian  pioneers.  The  Moors  sallied 
forth  with  fiery  zeal  to  protect  their  beloved  gardens,  and  the 
orchards  in  which  they  so  much  delighted.  The  Christians, 
however,  were  too  well  supported  to  be  driven  from  their  work. 
Day  after  day,  the  gardens  became  the  scene  of  incessant  and 
bloody  skirmishings;  yet  still  the  devastation  of  the  groves 
went  on,  for  king  Ferdinand  was  too  well  aware  of  the  neces 
sity  of  clearing  away  this  screen  of  woods,  not  to  bend  all  his 
forces  to  the  undertaking.  It  was  a  work,  however,  of  gigantic 
toil  and  patience.  The  trees  were  of  such  magnitude,  and  so 
closely  set  together,  and  spread  over  so  wide  an  extent,  that, 
notwithstanding  four  thousand  men  were  employed,  they 
could  scarcely  clear  a  strip  of  land  ten  paces  broad  within  a 
day;  and  such  were  the  interruptions  from  the  incessant 
assaults  of  the  Moors,  that  it  was  full  forty  days  before  the 
orchards  were  completely  levelled. 

The  devoted  city  of  Baza  now  lay  stripped  of  its  beautiful 
covering  of  groves  and  gardens,  at  once  its  ornament,  its 
delight,  and  its  protection.  The  besiegers  went  on  slowly  and 
surely,  with  almost  incredible  labors,  to  invest  and  isolate  the 
city.  They  connected  their  camps  by  a  deep  trench  across  the 
plain,  a  league  in  length,  into  which  they  diverted  the  waters 
of  the  mountain  streams.  They  protected  this  trench  by  pali 
sadoes,  fortified  by  fifteen  castles,  at  regular  distances.  They 
dug  a  deep  trench,  also,  .  two  leagues  in  length,  across  the 
mountain  in  the  rear  of  the  city,  reaching  from  camp  4:o  camp, 
and  fortified  it  on  each  side  with  walls  of  earth,  and  stone,  and 
wood.  Thus  the  Moors  were  inclosed  on  all  sides  by  trenches, 
palisadoes,  walls,  and  castles;  so  that  it  was  impossible  for 
them  to  sally  beyond  this  great  line  of  circumvallation — nor 
could  any  force  enter  to  their  succor.  Ferdinand  made  an 
attempt,  likewise,  to  cut  off  the  supply  of  water  from  the  city ; 
"for  water,"  observes  the  worthy  Agapida,  "is  more  neces 
sary  to  these  infidels  than  bread,  making  use  of  it  in  repeated 
daily  ablutions  enjoined  by  their  damnable  religion,  and  em 
ploying  it  in  baths  and  in  a  thousand  other  idle  and  extrava 
gant  modes,  of  which  we  Spaniards  and  Christians  make  but 
little  account." 

There  was  a  noble  fountain  of  pure  water,  which  gushed  out 
at  the  foot  of  the  hill  Albohacen,  just  behind  the  city.  The 
Moors  had  almost  a  superstitious  fondness  for  this  fountain, 
and  chiefly  depended  upon  it  for  their  supplies.  Receiving  in- 


270  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

timation  from  some  deserters,  of  the  plan  of  king  Ferdinand  to 
get  possession  of  this  precious  fountain,  they  sallied  forth  at 
night,  and  threw  up  such  powerful  works  upon  the  impending 
hill,  as  to  set  all  attempts  of  the  Christian  assailants  at 
defiance. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

EXPLOIT  OF  HERNANDO  PEREZ  DEL  PULGAR  AND  OTHER 
CAVALIERS. 

THE  siege  of  Baza,  while  it  displayed  the  skill  and  science  of 
the  Christian  commanders,  gave  but  little  scope  for  the  adven 
turous  spirit  and  fiery  valor  of  the  young  Spanish  cavaliers. 
They  repined  at  the  tedious  monotony  and  dull  security  of  their 
fortified  camp,  and  longed  for  some  soul-stirring  exploit  of  diffi 
culty  and  danger.  Two  of  the  most  spirited  of  these  youth 
ful  cavaliers  were  Francisco  de  Bazan  and  Antonio  de  Cueva, 
the  latter  of  whom  was  son  to  the  duke  of  Albuquerque. 
As  they  were  one  day  seated  on  the  ramparts  of  the  camp,  and 
venting  their  impatience  at  this  life  of  inaction,  they  were 
overheard  by  a  veteran  adalid,  one  of  those  scouts  or  guides 
who  are  acquainted  with  all  parts  of  the  country.  "Senors," 
said  he,  ' '  if  you  wish  for  a  service  of  peril  and  profit,  if  you 
are  willing  to  pluck  the  fiery  old  Moor  by  the  beard,  I  can  lead 
you  to  where  you  may  put  your  mettle  to  the  proof.  Hard  by 
the  city  of  Guadix,  are  certain  hamlets  rich  in  booty.  I  can 
conduct  you  by  a  way  in  which  you  may  come  upon  them 
by  surprise ;  and  if  you  are  as  cool  in  the  head,  as  you  are  hot 
in  the  spur,  you  may  bear  off  your  spoils  from  under  the  very 
eyes  of  old  El  Zagal." 

The  idea  of  thus  making  booty  at  the  very  gates  of  Guadix, 
pleased  the  hot-spirited  youths.  These  predatory  excursions 
were  frequent  about  this  time ;  and  the  Moors  of  Padul,  Alhen- 
den,  and  other  towns  of  the  Alpuxarras,  had  recently  harassed 
the  Christian  territories  by  expeditions  of  the  kind.  Francisco 
de  Bazan  and  Antonio  de  Cueva  soon  found  ether  young  cava 
liers  of  their  age,  eager  to  join  in  the  adventure;  and  in  a  little 
while,  they  had  nearly  three  hundred  horse  and  two  hundred 
foot,  ready  equipped  and  eager  for  the  foray. 

Keeping  their  destination  secret,  they  sallied  out  of  the  camp 


THE  COX  QUEST  OF  GRANADA.  271 

on  the  edge  of  an  evening,  and,  guided  by  the  adalid,  made 
their  way  by  star-light  through  the  most  secret  roads  of  the 
mountains.  In  this  way  they  pressed  on  rapidly  day  and 
night,  until  early  one  morning,  before  cock-crowing,  they  fell 
suddenly  upon  the  hamlets,  made  prisoners  of  the  inhabitants, 
sacked  the  houses,  ravaged  the  fields,  and,  sweeping  through 
the  meadows,  gathered  together  all  the  flocks  and  herds. 
Without  giving  themselves  time  to  rest,  they  set  out  upon  their 
return,  making  with  all  speed  for  the  mountains,  before  the 
alarm  should  be  given  and  the  country  roused. 

Several  of  the  herdsmen,  however,  had  fled  to  Guadix,  and 
carried  tidings  of  the  ravage  to  El  Zagal.  The  beard  of  old 
Muley  trembled  with  rage;  he  immediately  sent  out  six  hun 
dred  of  his  choicest  horse  and  foot,  with  orders  to  recover 
the  booty,  and  to  bring  those  insolent  marauders  captive  to 
Guadix. 

The  Christian  cavaliers  were  urging  their  cavalgada  of  cat 
tle  and  sheep  up  a  mountain,  as  fast  as  their  own  weariness 
would  permit,  when,  looking  back,  they  beheld  a  great  cloud 
of  dust,  and  presently  descried  the  turbaned  host  hot  upon 
their  traces. 

They  saw  that  the  Moors  were  superior  in  number;  they 
were  fresh  also,  both  man  and  steed,  whereas  both  they  and 
their  horses  were  fatigued  by  two  days  and  two  nights  of  hard 
marching.  Several  of  the  horsemen  therefore  gathered  round 
the  commanders,  and  proposed  that  they  should  relinquish 
their  spoil,  and  save  themselves  by  flight.  The  captains, 
Francisco  de  Bazan  and  Antonio  de  Cueva,  spurned  at  such 
craven  counsel.  "What!"  cried  they,  "abandon  our  prey 
without  striking  a  blow?  Leave  our  foot-soldiers  too  in  the 
lurch,  to  be  overwhelmed  by  the  enemy?  If  any  one  gives 
such  counsel  through  fear,  he  mistakes  the  course  of  safety; 
for  there  is  less  danger  in  presenting  a  bold  front  to  the  foe,' 
than  in  turning  a  dastard  back ;  and  fewer  men  are  killed  in  a 
brave  advance,  than  in  a  cowardly  retreat." 

Some  of  the  cavaliers  were  touched  by  these  words,  and  de 
clared  that  they  would  stand   by  the  foot-soldiers  like  true 
companions  in  arms:  the  great  mass  of  the  party,  however 
were  volunteers,  brought  together  by  chance,  who  received  no 
pay,  nor  had  any  common  tie  to  keep  them  together  in  time 
of  danger.     The  pleasure  of  the  expedition  being  over,  each 
thought  but  of  his  own  safety,  regardless  of  his  companions 
As  the  enemy  approached,  the  tumult  of  opinions  increased, 


27.2  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

and  every  thing  was  in  confusion.  The  captains,  to  put  an 
end  to  the  dispute,  ordered  the  standard-hearer  to  advance 
against  the  Moors,  well  knowing  that  no  true  cavalier  would 
hesitate  to  follow  and  defend  his  banner.  The  standard-bearer 
hesitated — the  troops  were  on  the  point  of  taking  to  flight. 

Upon  this,  a  cavalier  of  the  royal  guards,  named  Hernando 
Perez  del  Pulgar,  alcayde  of  the  fortress  of  Salar,  rode  to  the 
front.  He  took  off  a  handkerchief  which  he  wore  round  his 
head,  after  the  Andalusian  fashion,  and,  tying  it  to  the  end  of 
his  lance,  elevated  it  in  the  air.  "Cavaliers,"  cried  he,  "why 
do  ye  take  weapons  in  your  hands,  if  you  depend  upon  your 
feet  for  safety?  This  day  will  determine  who  is  the  brave 
man,  and  who  the  coward.  He  who  is  disposed  to  fight,  shall 
not  want  a  standard :  let  him  follow  this  handkerchief. "  So 
saying,  he  waved  his  banner,  and  spurred  bravely  against  the 
Moors.  His  example  shamed  some,  and  filled  others  with  gen 
erous  emulation:  all  turned  with  one  accord,  and,  following 
the  valiant  Pulgar,  rushed  with  shouts  upon  the  enemy.  The 
Moors  scarcely  waited  to  receive  the  shook  of  their  encounter. 
Seized  with  a  sudden  panic,  they  took  to  flight,  and  were  pur 
sued  for  a  considerable  distance,  with  great  slaughter.  Three 
hundred  of  their  dead  strewed  the  road,  and  were  stripped 
and  despoiled  by  the  conquerors ;  many  were  taken  prisoners, 
and  the  Christian  cavaliers  returned  in  triumph  to  the  camp, 
with  a  long  cavalgada  of  sheep  and  cattle,  and  mules  laden 
with  booty,  and  bearing  before  them  the  singular  standard 
which  had  conducted  them  to  victory. 

When  king  Ferdinand  was  informed  of  the  gallant  action  of 
Hernando  Perez  del  Pulgar,  he  immediately  conferred  on  him 
the  honor  of  knighthood,  and  ordered,  that  in  memory  of  his 
achievement,  he  should  bear  for  arms  a  lance  with  a  handker 
chief  at  the  end  of  it,  together  with  a  castle  and  twelve  lions. 
This  is  but  one  of  many  hardy  and  heroic  deeds  done  by  this 
brave  cavalier,  in  the  wars  against  the  Moors ;  by  which  he 
gained  great  renown,  and  the  distinguished  appellation  of  "El 
de  las  hazanas,"  or  "  He  of  the  exploits."  * 


*  Hernando  del  Pulgar,  the  historian,  secretary  to  queen  Isabella,  is  confounded 
with  this  cavalier,  by  some  writers.  He  was  also  present  at  the  siege  of  Baza,  and 
has  recounted  this  transaction  in  his  chronicle  of  the  Catholic  sovereigns  Ferdinand, 
and  Isabella. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

*• 

CHAPTER  XXX. 

CONTINUATION  OF  THE   SIEGE  OF  BAZA. 

THE  old  Moorish  king  El  Zagal  mounted  a  tower  and  looked 
out  eagerly  to  enjoy  the  sight  of  the  Christian  marauders 
brought  captive  into  the  gates  of  Guadix ;  but  his  spirits  fell, 
when  he  beheld  his  own  troops  stealing  back  in  the  dusk  of 
the  evening,  in  broken  and  dejected  parties. 

The  fortune  of  war  bore  hard  against  the  old  monarch ;  his 
mind  was  harassed  by  the  disastrous  tidings  brought  each  day 
from  Baza,  of  the  sufferings  of  the  inhabitants,  and  the  num 
bers  of  the  garrison  slain  in  the  frequent  skirmishes.  He 
dared  not  go  in  person  to  the  relief  of  the  place,  for  his  pre 
sence  was  necessary  in  Guadix,  to  keep  a  check  upon  his 
nephew  in  Granada.  He  made  efforts  to  send  reinforcements 
and  supplies ;  but  they  were  intercepted,  and  either  captured 
or  driven  back.  Still  his  situation  was  in  some  respects  pre 
ferable  to  that  of  his  nephew  Boabdil.  The  old  monarch  was 
battling  like  a  warrior,  on  the  last  step  of  his  throne ;  El  Chico 
remained  a  kind  of  pensioned  vassal,  in  the  luxurious  abode  of 
the  Alhambra.  The  chivalrous  part  of  the  inhabitants  of 
Granada  could  not  but  compare  the  generous  stand  made  by 
the  warriors  of  Baza  for  their  country  and  their  faith,  with 
their  own  timeserving  submission  to  the  yoke  of  an  unbeliever. 
Every  account  they  received  of  the  woes  of  Baza,  wrung  their 
hearts  with  agony;  every  account. of  the  exploits  of  its  devoted 
defenders,  brought  blushes  to  their  cheeks.  Many  stole  forth 
secretly  with  their  weapons,  and  hastened  to  join  the  besieged ; 
and  the  partisans  of  El  Zagal  wrought  upon  the  patriotism  and 
passions  of  the  remainder,  until  another  of  those  conspiracies 
was  formed,  that  were  continually  menacing  the  unsteady 
throne  of  Granada.  It  was  concerted  by  the  conspirators,  to 
assail  the  Alhambra  on  a  sudden;  to  slay  Boabdil;  to  assemble 
all  the  troops,  and  march  to  Guadix ;  where,  being  reinforced 
by  the  garrison  of  that  place,  and  led  on  by  the  old  warrior 
monarch,  they  might  fall  with  overwhelming  power  upon  the 
Christian  army  before  Baza. 

Fortunately  for  Boabdil,  he  discovered  the  conspiracy  in 
time,  and  had  the  heads  of  the  leaders  struck  off,  and  placed 
upon  the  walls  of  the  Alhambra,— an  act  of  severity  unusual 


274  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

with  this  mild  and  wavering  monarch,  which  struck  terror 
into  the  disaffected,  and  produced  a  kind  of  mute  tranquillity 
throughout  the  city. 

King  Ferdinand  had  full  information  of  all  these  movements 
and  measures  for  the  relief  of  Baza,  and  took  timely  precau 
tions  to  prevent  them.  Bodies  of  horsemen  held  watch  in  the 
mountain  passes,  to  prevent  all  supplies,  and  to  intercept  any 
generous  volunteers  from  Granada;  and  watch-towers  were 
erected,  or  scouts  were  placed  on  every  commanding  height, 
to  give  the  alarm  at  the  least  sign  of  a  hostile  turban. 

The  prince  Cidi  Yahye  and  his  brave  companions  in  arms, 
were  thus  gradually  walled  up,  as  it  were,  from  the  rest  of  the 
world.  A  line  of  towers,  the  battlements  of  which  bristled 
with  troops,  girdled  their  city;  and  behind  the  intervening 
bulwarks  and  palisadoes,  passed  and  repassed  continual  squa 
drons  of  troops.  Week  after  week,  and  month  after  month, 
passed  away,  but  Ferdinand  waited  in  vain  for  the  garrison 
to  be  either  terrified  or  starved  into  surrender.  Every  clay 
they  sallied  forth  with  the  spirit  and  alacrity  of  troops  high 
fed,  and  flushed  with  confidence.  "The  Christian  monarch," 
said  the  veteran  Mohammed  ben  Hassan,  "builds  his  hopes 
upon  our  growing  faint  and  desponding— we  must  manifest 
unusual  cheerfulness  and  vigor.  What  would  be  rashness  in 
other  service,  becomes  prudence  with  us."  The  prince  Cidi 
Yahye  agreed  with  him  in  opinion,  and  sallied  forth  with  his 
troops  upon  all  kinds  of  harebrained  exploits.  They  laid  am 
bushes,  concerted  surprises,  and  made  the  most  desperate  as-' 
saults.  The  great  extent  of  the  Christian  works  rendered 
them  weak  in  many  parts :  against  these  the  Moors  directed 
their  attacks,  suddenly  breaking  into  them,  making  a  hasty 
ravage,  and  bearing  off  their  booty  in  triumph  to  the  city. 
Sometimes  they  would  sally  forth  by  the  passes  and  clefts  of 
the  mountain  in  the  rear  of  the  city,  which  it  was  difficult  to 
guard,  and,  hurrying  down  into  the  plain,  would  sweep  off  all 
cattle  and  sheep  that  were  grazing  near  the  suburbs,  and  all 
stragglers  from  the  camp. 

These  partisan  sallies  brought  on  many  sharp  and  bloody 
encounters,  in  some  of  which  Don  Alonzo  de  Aguilar  and  the 
alcayde  de  los  Donzeles  distinguished  themselves  greatly. 
During  one  of  these  hot  skirmishes,  which  happened  on  the 
skirts  of  the  mountain,  about  twilight,  a  valiant  cavalier, 
named  Martin  Galindo.  beheld  a  powerful  Moor  dealing 
deadly  blows  about  him,  and  making  great  havoc  among  the 


THE   CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  275 

Christians.  Galindo  pressed  forward,  and  challenged  him  to 
single  combat.  The  Moor,  who  was  of  the  valiant  tribe  of  the 
Abencerrages,  was  not  slow  in  answering  the  call.  Couching 
their  lances,  they  rushed  furiously  upon  each  other.  At  the 
first  shock  the  Moor  was  wounded  in  the  face,  and  borne  out 
of  his  saddle.  Before  Galiiido  could  check  his  steed,  and  turn 
from  his  career,  the  Moor  sprang  upon  his  feet,  recovered  his 
lance,  and,  rushing  upon  him,  wounded  him  in  the  head  arid 
the  arm.  Though  Galindo  was  on  horseback  and  the  Moor  on 
foot,  yet  such  was  the  prowess  and  address  of  the  latter,  that 
the  Christian  knight,  being  disabled  in  the  arm,  was  in  the 
utmost  peril,  when  his  comrades  hastened  to  his  assistance. 
At  their  approach,  the  valiant  pagan  retreated  slowly  up  the 
rocks,  keeping  them  at  bay,  until  he  found  himself  among  his 
companions. 

Several  of  the  young  Spanish  cavaliers,  stung  by  the  triumph 
of  this  Moslem  knight,  would  have  challenged  others  of  the 
Moors  to  single  combat;  buf  king  Ferdinand  prohibited  all 
vaunting  encounters  of  the  kind.  He  forbade  his  troops,  also, 
to  provoke  skirmishes,  well  knowing  that  the  Moors  were 
more  dexterous  than  most  people  in  this  irregular  mode  of 
fighting,  and  were  better  acquainted  with  the  ground. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

HOW  TWO  FRIARS  ARRIVED  AT  THE  OAMP,  AND  HOW  THEY  CAME 
FROM  THE  HOLY  LAND. 

WHILE  the  holy  Christian  army  (says  Fray  Antonio  Aga- 
pida)  was  thus  beleaguring  this  infidel  city  of  Baza,  there  rode 
into  the  camp,  one  day,  two  reverend  friars  of  the  order  of 
Saint  Francis.  One  was  of  portly  person,  and  authoritative 
air:  he  bestrode  a  goodly  steed,  well  conditioned  and  well 
caparisoned;  while  his  companion  rode  beside  him,  upon  a 
humble  hack,  poorly  accoutred,  and,  as  he  rode,  he  scarcely 
raised  his  eyes  from  the  ground,  but  maintained  a  meek  and 
lowly  air. 

The  arrival  of  two  friars  in  the  camp  was  not  a  matter  of 
much  note,  for  in  these  holy  wars  the  church  militant  con 
tinually  mingled  in  the  affray,  and  helmet  and  cowl  were 


276  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

always  seen  together;  but  it  was  soon  discovered  that  these 
worthy  saints-errant  were  from  a  far  country,  and  on  a  mis 
sion  of  great  import. 

They  were,  in  truth,  just  arrived  from  the  Holy  Land,  being 
two  of  the  saintly  men  who  kept  vigil  over  the  sepulchre  of  our 
blessed  Lord  at  Jerusalem.  He  of  the  tall  and  portly  form  and 
commanding  presence,  was  Fray  Antonio  Millan,  prior  of  the 
Franciscan  convent  in  the  holy  city.  He  had  a  full  and  florid 
countenance,  a  sonorous  voice,  and  was  round,  and  swelling, 
and  copious  in  his  periods,  like  one  accustomed  to  harangue, 
and  to  be  listened  to  with  deference.  His  companion  was 
small  and  spare  in  form,  pale  of  visage,  and  soft  and  silken  and 
almost  whispering  in  speech.  ' '  He  had  a  humble  and  lowly 
way,"  says  Agapida,  "evermore  bowing  the  head,  as  became 
one  of  his  calling. "  Yet  he  was  one  of  the  most  active,  zeal 
ous,  and  effective  brothers  of  the  convent ;  and  when  he  raised 
his  small  black  eye  from  the  earth,  there  was  a  keen  glance 
out  of  the  corner,  which  showed,  that  though  harmless  as  a 
dove,  he  was  nevertheless  as  wise  as  a  serpent. 

These  holy  men  had  come  on  a  momentous  embassy  from  the 
grand  soldan  of  Egypt ;  or,  as  Agapida  terms  him  in  the  lan 
guage  of  the  day,  the  soldan  of  Babylon.  The  league  which  had 
been  made  between  that  potentate  and  his  arch-foe  the  Grand- 
Turk  Bajazet  II. ,  to  unite  in  arms  for  the  salvation  of  Granada, 
as  has  been  mentioned  in  a  previous  chapter  of  this  chronicle, 
had  come  to  nought.  The  infidel  princes  had  again  taken  up 
arms  against  each  other,  and  had  relapsed  into  their  ancient 
hostility.  Still  the  grand  soldan,  as  head  of  the  whole  Moslem 
sect,  considered  himself  bound  to  preserve  the  kingdom  of 
Granada  from  the  grasp  of  unbelievers.  He  dispatched,  there 
fore,  these  two  holy  friars  with  letters  ^)  the  Castilian  sove 
reigns,  as  well  as  to  the  pope  and  to  the  king  of  Naples,  remon 
strating  against  the  evils  done  to  the  Moors  of  the  kingdom  of 
Granada,  who  were  of  his  faith  and  kindred ;  whereas  it  was 
well  known  that  great  numbers  of  Christians  were  indulged 
and  protected  in  the  full  enjoyment  of  their  property,  their 
liberty,  and  their  faith,  in  his  dominions.  He  insisted,  there 
fore,  that  this  war  should  cease ;  that  the  Moors  of  Granada 
should  be  reinstated  in  the  territory  of  which  they  had  been 
dispossessed ;  otherwise  he  threatened  to  put  to  death  all  the 
Christians  beneath  his  sway,  to  demolish  their  convents  and 
temples,  and  to  destroy  the  holy  sepulchre. 

This  fearful  menace  had  spread  consternation  among  ths 


THE  COX  QUEST  OF  GRANADA.  217 

Christians  of  Palestine ;  and  when  the  intrepid  Fray  Antonio 
Millaii  and  his  lowly  companion  departed  011  their  mission, 
they  were  accompanied  far  from  the  gates  of  Jerusalem  by  an 
anxious  throng  of  brethren  and  disciples,  who  remained  watch 
ing  them  with  tearful  eyes,  as  they  journeyed  over  the  plains 
of  Judea. 

These  holy  ambassadors  were  received  with  great  distinction 
by  king  Ferdinand ;  for  men  of  their  cloth  had  ever  high  honor 
and  consideration  in  his  court.  He  had  long  and  frequent  con 
versations  with  them,  about  the  Holy  Land;  the  state  of  the 
Christian  church  in  tli3  dominions  of  the  grand  soldan,  and  of 
the  policy  and  conduct  of  that  arch-infidel  towards  it.  The 
portly  prior  of  the  Franciscan  convent  was  full,  and  round, 
and  oratorical,  in  his  replies ;  and  the  king  expressed  himself 
much  pleased  with  the  eloquence  of  his  periods ;  but  the  politic 
monarch  was  observed  to  lend  a  close  and  attentive  ear  to  the 
whispering  voice  of  the  lowly  companion,  "  whose  discourse," 
adds  Agapida,  "though  modest  and  low,  was  clear  and  fluent, 
and  full  of  subtle  wisdom."  These  holy  friars  had  visited 
Rome  in  their  journeying,  where  they  had  delivered  the  letter 
of  the  soldan  to  the  sovereign  pontiff.  His  holiness  had  writ 
ten  by  them  to  the  Castilian  sovereigns,  requesting  to  know 
what  reply  they  had  to  offer  to  this  demand  of  the  oriental 
potentate. 

The  king  of  Naples  also  wrote  to  them  on  the  subject,  but 
in  wary  terms  He  inquired  into  the  cause  of  this  war  with 
the  Moors  of  Granada,  and  expressed  great  marvel  at  its 
events,  as  if  (says  Agapida)  both  were  not  notorious  through 
out  all  the  Christian  world.  "Nay, "adds  the  worthy  friar 
wit h  becoming  indignation,  "he  uttered  opinions  savoring  of 
little  better  than  damnable  heresy;— for  he  observed,  that 
although  the  Moors  were  of  a  different  sect,  they  ought  not  to 
be  maltreated  without  just  cause;  and  hinted  that  if  the  Cas 
tilian  sovereigns  did  not  suffer  any  crying  injury  from  the 
Moors,  it  would  be  improper  to  do  any  thing  which  might 
draw  great  damage  upon  the  Christians:  as  if,  when  once  the 
sword  of  the  faith  was  drawn,  it  ought  ever  to  be  sheathed 
until  this  scum  of  heathendom  were  utterly  destroyed  or 
driven  from  the  land.  But  this  monarch,"  he  continues,  "was 
more  kindly  disposed  towards  the  infidels  than  was  honest  and 
hopeful  in  a  Christian  prince,  and  was  at  that  very  time  in 
league  with  the  soldan  against  their  common  enemy  the 
Grand-Turk." 


278  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

These  pious  sentiments  of  the  truly  Catholic  Agapida,  are 
echoed  by  Padre  Mariana,  in  his  history;*  but  the  worthy 
chronicler  Pedro  Abarca  attributes  the  interference  of  the 
king  of  Naples,  not  to  lack  of  orthodoxy  in  religion,  but  to  an 
excess  of  worldly  policy;  he  being  apprehensive  that,  should 
Ferdinand  conquer  the  Moors  of  Granada,  he  might  have  time 
and  means  to  assert  a  claim  of  the  house  of  Arragon  to  the 
crown  of  Naples. 

"  King  Ferdinand,"  continues  the  worthy  father  Pedro  Abar 
ca,  ' '  was  no  less  master  of  dissimulation  than  his  cousin  of 
Naples ;  so  he  replied  to  him  with  the  utmost  suavity  of  man 
ner,  going  into  a  minute  and  patient  vindication  of  the  war, 
and  taking  great  apparent  pains  to  inform  him  of  those  things 
which  all  the  world  knew,  but  of  which  the  other  pretended  to 
be  ignorant,  "f  At  the  same  time  he  soothed  his  solicitude 
about  the  fate  of  the  Christians  in  the  empire  of  the  grand 
soldan,  assuring  him  that  the  great  revenue  extorted  from 
them  in  rents  and  tributes,  would  be  a  certain  protection 
against  the  threatened  violence. 

To  the  pope  he  made  the  usual  vindication  of  the  war ;  that 
it  was  for  the  recovery  of  ancient  territory,  usurped  by  the 
Moors ;  for  the  punishment  of  wars  and  violences  inflicted  upon 
the  Christians ;  and  finally,  that  it  was  a  holy  crusade  for  the 
glory  and  advancement  of  the  church. 

"It  was  a  truly  edifying  sight,"  says  Agapida,  "to  behold 
these  friars,  after  they  had  had  their  audience  of  the  king, 
moving  about  the  camp  always  surrounded  by  nobles  and 
cavaliers  of  high  and  martial  renown.  These  were  insatiable 
in  their  questions  about  the  Holy  Land,  the  state  of  the  sepul 
chre  of  our  Lord,  and  the  sufferings  of  the  devoted  brethren 
who  guarded  it,  and  the  pious  pilgrims  who  resorted  there  to 
pay  their  vows.  The  portly  prior  of  the  convent  would  stand 
with  lofty  and  shining  countenance  in  the  midst  of  these  iron 
warriors,  and  declaim  with  resounding  eloquence  on  the  his 
tory  of  the  sepulchre ;  but  the  humbler  brother  would  ever  and 
anon  sigh  deeply,  and  in  low  tones  utter  some  tale  of  suffering 
and  outrage,  at  which  his  steel-clad  hearers  would  grasp  the 
hilts  of  their  swords,  and  mutter  between  their  clenched  teeth 
prayers  for  another  crusade." 

The  pious  friars,  having  finished  their  mission  to  the  king, 


*  Mariana,  lib.  25,  cap.  15. 

t  Abarca,  Anales  de  Aragon,  Rey  xxx.  cap.  3. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  279 

and  been  treated  with  all  due  distinction,  took  their  leave  and 
wended  their  way  to  Jaen,  to  visit  the  most  Catholic  of  queens. 
Isabella,  whose  heart  was  the  seat  of  piety,  received  them  as 
sacred  men,  invested  with  more  than  human  dignity.  During 
their  residence  at  Jaen,  they  were  continually  in  the  royal 
presence;  the  respectable  prior  of  the  convent  moved  and 
melted  the  ladies  of  the  court  by  his  florid  rhetoric,  but  his 
lowly  companion  was  observed  to  have  continual  access  to  the 
royal  ear.  That  saintly  and  soft-spoken  messenger  (says  Aga- 
pida)  received  the  reward  of  his  humility;  for  the  queen, 
moved  by  his  frequent  representations,  made  in  all  modesty 
and  lowliness  of  spirit,  granted  a  yearly  sum  in  perpetuity,  of 
one  thousand  ducats  in  gold,  for  the  support  of  the  monks  of 
the  convent  of  the  holy  sepulchre.* 

Moreover,  on  the  departure  of  these  holy  ambassadors,  the 
excellent  and  most  Catholic  queen  delivered  to  them  a  veil 
devoutly  embroidered  with  her  own  royal  hands,  to  be  placed 
over  the  holy  sepulchre ;— a  precious  and  inestimable  present, 
which  called  forth  a  most  eloquent  tribute  of  thanks  from  the 
portly  prior,  but  which  brought  tears  into  the  eyes  of  his  lowly 
companion,  t 


*  "  La  Reyna  dio  a  los  Frayles  mil  ducados  de  renta  cado  ano  para  el  sustanto  de 
los  religiosos  del  santo  sepulcro,  que  es  la  mejor  limosna  y  sustanto  que  hasta  nu- 
estros  dias  ha  quedado  a  estos  religiosas  de  Gerusalem:  para  donde  les  dio  la  Reyna 
un  velo  labrado  por  sus  manos,  para  poner  encima  de  la  santa  sepultura  del 
Senor."— Garibay,  Compend.  Hist.  lib.  18,  cap.  36. 

t  It  is  proper  to  mention  the  result  of  this  mission  of  the  two  friars,  and  which 
the  worthy  Agapida  has  neglected  to  record.  At  a  subsequent  period,  the  Catholic 
sovereigns  sent  the  distinguished  historian,  Pietro  Martyr,  of  Angleria,  as  ambassa 
dor  to  the  grand  soldan.  That  able  man  made  such  representations  as  were  per 
fectly  satisfactory  to  the  oriental  potentate.  He  also  obtained  from  him  the  re 
mission  of  many  exactions  and  extortions  heretofore  practised  upon  Christian 
pilgrims  visiting  the  holy  sepulchre ;  which,  it  is  presumed,  had  been  gently  but 
cogently  detailed  to  the  monarch  by  the  lowly  friar.  Pietro  Martyr  wrote  an  ac 
count  of  his  embassy  to  tke  grand  soldan — a  work  greatly  esteemed  by  the  learned, 
and  containing  much  curious  information.  It  is  entitled,  De  Legatione  Sabylonica. 


280  Tim  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 


CHAPTER  XXXTI. 

HOW  QUEEN  ISABELLA  DEVISED    MEANS  TO    SUPPLY  THE  ARMY 
WITH  PROVISIONS. 

IT  has  been  the  custom  to  laud  the  conduct  and  address  of 
king  Ferdinand,  in  this  most  arduous  and  protracted  war ;  but 
the  sage  Agapida  is  more  disposed  to  give  credit  to  the  coun 
sels  and  measures  of  the  queen,  who,  he  observes,  though  less 
ostensible  in  action,  was  in  truth  the  very  soul,  the  vital  prin 
ciple,  of  this  great  enterprise.  While  king  Ferdinand  was 
bustling  in  his  camp  and  making  a  glittering  display  with  his 
gallant  chivalry,  she,  surrounded  by  her  saintly  counsellors, 
in  the  episcopal  palace  of  Jaen,  was  devising  ways  and  means 
to  keep  the  king  and  his  army  in  existence.  She  had  pledged 
herself  to  keep  up  a  supply  of  men,  and  money,  and  provi 
sions,  until  the  city  should  be  taken.  The  hardships  of  the 
siege  caused  a  fearful  waste  of  life,  but  the  supply  of  men  was 
the  least  difficult  part  of  her  undertaking.  So  beloved  was  the 
queen  by  the  chivalry  of  Spain,  that  on  her  calling  on  them  for 
assistance,  not  a  grandee  or  cavalier  that  yet  lingered  at  home, 
but  either  repaired  in  person  or  sent  forces  to  the  camp ;  the 
ancient  and  warlike  families  vied  with  each  other  in  marshal 
ling  forth  their  vassals,  and  thus  the  besieged  Moors  beheld 
each  day  fresh  troops  arriving  before  their  city,  and  new  en 
signs  and  pennons  displayed,  emblazoned  with  arms  well 
known  to  the  veteran  warriors. 

But  the  most  arduous  task  was  to  keep  up  a  regular  supply 
of  provisions.  It  was  not  the  army  alone  that  had  to  be  sup 
ported,  but  also  the  captured  towns  and  their  garrisons ;  for 
the  whole  country  around  them  had  been  ravaged,  and  the 
conquerors  were  in  danger  of  starving  in  the  midst  of  the  land 
they  had  desolated.  To  transport  the  daily  supplies  for  such 
immense  numbers,  was  a  gigantic  undertaking,  in  a  country 
where  there  was  neither  water  conveyance  nor  roads  for  car 
riages.  Every  thing  had  to  be  borne  by  beasts  of  burthen  over 
rugged  and  broken  paths  of  the  mountains,  and  through  dan 
gerous  defiles,  exposed  to  the  attacks  and  plunderings  of  the 
Moors. 

The  wary  and  calculating  merchants,  accustomed  to  supply 
the  army,  shrunk  from  engaging,  at  their  own  risk,  in  so 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA  281 

hazardous  an  undertaking.  The  queen  therefore  hired  four 
teen  thousand  beasts  of  burthen,  and  ordered  all  the  wheat 
and  barley  to  be  bought  up  in  Andalusia,  and  in  the  domains 
of  the  knights  of  Santiago  and  Calatrava.  She  distributed  the 
administration  of  these  supplies  among  able  and  confidential 
persons.  Some  were  employed  to  collect  the  grain ;  others,  to 
take  it  to  the  mills ;  others,  to  superintend  the  grinding  and 
delivery ;  and  others,  to  convey  it  to  the  camp.  To  every  two 
hundred  animals  a  muleteer  was  allotted,  to  take  charge  of 
them  on  the  route.  Thus,  great  lines  of  convoys  were  in  con 
stant  movement,  traversing  to  and  fro,  guarded  by  large 
bodies  of  troops,  to  defend  them  from  hovering  parties  of  the 
Moors.  Not  a  single  day's  intermission  was  allowed,  for  the 
army  depended  upon  the  constant  arrival  of  these  supplies  for 
daily  food.  The  grain,  when  brought  into  the  camp,  was 
deposited  in  an  immense  granary,  and  sold  to  the  army  at  a 
fixed  price,  which  was  never  either  raised  or  lowered. 

Incredible  were  the  expenses  incurred  in  these  supplies ;  but 
the  queen  had  ghostly  advisers,  thoroughly  versed  in  the  art 
of  getting  at  the  resources  of  the  country.  Many  worthy  pre 
lates  opened  the  deep  purses  of  the  church,  and  furnished 
loans  from  the  revenues  of  their  dioceses  and  convents ;  and 
their  pious  contributions  were  eventually  rewarded  by  Provi 
dence  an  hundred  fold.  Merchants  and  other  wealthy  indi 
viduals,  confident  of  the  punctual  faith  of  the  queen,  advanced 
large  sums  on  the  security  of  her  word ;  many  noble  families 
lent  their  plate,  without  waiting  to  be  asked.  The  queen  also 
sold  certain  annual  rents  in  inheritance  at  great  sacrifices, 
assigning  the  revenue  of  towns  and  cities  for  the  payment. 
Finding  all  this  insufficient  to  satisfy  the  enormous  expendi 
ture,  she  sent  her  gold  and  plate  and  all  her  jewels  to  the 
cities  of  Valentia  and  Barcelona,  where  they  were  pledged  for 
a  great  amount  of  money,  which  was  immediately  appro 
priated  to  keep  up  the  supplies  of  the  army. 

Thus,  through  the  wonderful  activity,  judgment,  and  enter 
prise  of  this  heroic  and  magnanimous  woman,  a  great  host, 
encamped  in  the  heart  of  a  warlike  country,  accessible  only 
over  mountain  roads,  was  maintained  in  continual  abundance. 
Nor  was  it  supplied  merely  with  the  necessaries  and  comforts 
of  life.  The  powerful  escorts  drew  merchants  and  artificers 
from  all  parts,  to  repair,  as  if  in  caravans,  to  this  great  mili 
tary  market.  In  a  little  while,  the  camp  abounded  with 
tradesmen  and  artists  of  all  kinds,  to  administer  to  the  luxury 


282  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

and  ostentation  of  the  youthful  chivalry.  Here  might  be  seen 
cunning  artificers  in  steel,  and  accomplished  armorers,  achiev 
ing  those  rare  and  sumptuous  helmets  and  cuirasses,  richly 
gilt,  inlaid,  and  embossed,  in  which  the  Spanish  cavaliers 
delighted.  Saddlers  and  harness-makers  and  horse-milliners, 
also,  were  there,  whose  tents  glittered  with  gorgeous  housings 
and  caparisons.  The  merchants  spread  forth  their  sumptuous 
silks,  cloths,  brocades,  fine  linen,  and  tapestry.  The  tents  of 
the  nobility  were  prodigally  decorated  with  all  kinds  of  the 
richest  stuffs,  and  dazzled  the  eye  with  their  magnificence: 
nor  could  the  grave  looks  and  grave  speeches  of  king  Ferdi 
nand  prevent  his  youthful  cavaliers  from  vying  with  each 
other  in  the  splendor  of  their  dresses  and  caparisons,  on  all 
occasions  of  parade  and  ceremony. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

OF  THE  DISASTERS  WHICH  BEFELL  THE  CAMP. 

WHILE  the  Christian  camp,  thus  gay  and  gorgeous,  spread 
itself  out  like  a  holyday  pageant  before  the  walls  of  Baza — 
while  a  long  line  of  beasts  of  burthen,  laden  with  provisions 
and  luxuries,  were  seen  descending  the  valley  from  morning 
till  night,  and  pouring  into  the  camp  a  continued  stream  of 
abundance, — the  unfortunate  garrison  found  their  resources 
rapidly  wasting  away,  and  famine  already  began  to  pinch  the 
peaceful  part  of  the  community. 

Cidi  Yahye  had  acted  with  great  spirit  and  valor,  as  long  as 
there  was  any  prospect  of  success ;  but  he  began  to  lose  his 
usual  fire  and  animation,  and  was  observed  to  pace  the  walls 
of  Baza  with  a  pensive  air,  casting  many  a  wistful  look 
towards  the  Christian  camp,  and  sinking  into  profound  reve 
ries  and  cogitations.  The  veteran  alcayde,  Mohammed  ben 
Hassan,  noticed  these  desponding  moods,  and  endeavored  to 
rally  the  spirits  of  the  prince.  "  The  rainy  season  is  at  hand," 
would  he  cry;  "  the  floods  will  soon  pour  down  from  the 
mountains ;  the  rivers  will  overflow  their  banks,  and  inundate 
the  valleys.  The  Christian  king  already  begins  to  waver ;  he 
dare  not  linger,  and  encounter  such  a  season,  in  a  plain  cut 
up  by  canals  and  rivulets,  A  single  wintry  storm  from  our 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  283 

mountains  would  wash  away  his  canvas  city,  and  sweep  off 
those  gay  pavilions  like  wreaths  of  snow  before  the  blast." 

The  prince  Cidi  Yahye  took  heart  at  these  words,  and 
counted  the  days  as  they  passed  until  the  stormy  season 
should  commence.  As  he  watched  the  Christian  camp,  he  be 
held  it  one  morning  in  universal  commotion:  there  was  an 
unusual  sound  of  hammers  in  every  part,  as  if  some  new 
engines  of  war  were  oonstructing.  At  length,  to  his  astonish 
ment,  the  walls  and  roofs  of  houses  began  to  appear  above  the 
bulwarks.  In  a  little  while,  there  were  above  a  thousand  edi 
fices  of  wood  and  plaster  erected,  covered  with  tiles  taken 
from  the  demolished  towers  of  the  orchards,  and  bearing  the 
pennons  of  various  commanders  and  cavaliers;  while  the 
common  soldiery  constructed  huts,  of  clay  and  branches  of 
trees,  thatched  with  straw.  Thus,  to  the  dismay  of  the  Moors, 
within  four  days  the  light  tents  and  gay  pavilions  which  had 
whitened  their  hills  and  plains,  passed  away  like  summer 
clouds ;  and  the  unsubstantial  camp  assumed  the  solid  appear 
ance  of  a  city  laid  out  into  streets  and  squares.  In  the  centre 
rose  a  large  edifice  which  overlooked  the  whole ;  and  the  royal 
standard  of  Arragon  and  Castile,  proudly  floating  above  it, 
showed  it  to  be  the  palace  of  the  king.* 

Ferdinand  had  taken  the  sudden  resolution  thus  to  turn  his 
camp  into  a  city,  partly  to  provide  against  the  approaching 
season,  and  partly  to  convince  the  Moors  of  his  fixed  deter 
mination  to  continue  the  siege.  In  their  haste  to  erect  their 
dwellings,  however,  the  Spanish  cavaliers  had  not  properly 
considered  the  nature  of  the  climate.  For  the  greater  part  of 
the  year,  there  scarcely  falls  a  drop  of  rain  on  the  thirsty  soil 
of  Andalusia.  The  ramblas,  or  dry  channels  of  the  torrents, 
remain  deep  and  arid  gashes  and  clefts  in  the  sides  of  the 
mountains ;  the  perennial  streams  shrink  up  to  mere  threads  of 
of  water,  which,  tinkling  down  the  bottoms  of  the  deep  bar 
rancas  or  ravines,  scarce  feed  and  keep  alive  the  rivers  of  the 
valleys.  The  rivers,  almost  lost  in  their  wide  and  naked  beds, 
seem  like  thirsty  rills,  winding  in  serpentine  mazes  through 
desarts  of  sand  and  stones ;  and  so  shallow  and  tranquil  in 
their  course,  as  to  be  forded  in  safety  in  almost  every  part. 
One  autumnal  tempest  of  rain,  however,  changes  the  whole 
face  of  nature : — the  clouds  break  in  deluges  among  the  vast 
congregation  of  mountains;  the  ramblas  are  suddenly  filled 

*  Qura  4e  los  Palacios,  Pwlgar,  etc, 


284  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

with  raging  floods ;  the  tinkling  rivulets  swell  to  thundering 
torrents,  that  come  roaring  down  from  the  mountains,  tum 
bling  great  masses  of  rocks  in  their  career.  The  late  mean 
dering  river  spreads  over  its  once  naked  bed,  lashes  its  surges 
against  the  banks,  and  rushes  like  a  wide  and  foaming  inunda- 
tipn  through  the  valley. 

Scarcely  had  the  Christians  finished  their  slightly  built 
edifices,  when"  an  autumnal  tempest  of  the  kind  came  scouring 
from  the  mountains.  The  camp  was  immediately  overflowed. 
Many  of  the  houses,  undermined  by  the  floods  or  beaten  by  the 
rain,  crumbled  away  and  fell  to  the  earth,  burying  man  and 
beast  beneath  their  ruins.  Several  valuable  lives  were  lost, 
and  great  numbers  of  horses  and  other  animals  perished.  To 
add  to  the  distress  and  confusion  of  the  camp,  the  daily  supply 
of  provisions  suddenly  ceased ;  for  the  rain  had  broken  up  the 
roads,  and  rendered  the  rivers  impassable.  A  panic  seized 
upon  the  army,  for  the  cessation  of  a  single  day's  supply  pro 
duced  a  scarcity  of  bread  and  provender.  Fortunately,  the 
rain  was  but  transient:  the  torrents  rushed  by,  and  ceased; 
the  rivers  shrunk  back  again  to  their  narrow  channels,  and 
the  convoys  that  had  been  detained  upon  their  banks  arrived 
safely  in  the  camp. 

No  sooner  did  queen  Isabella  hear  of  this  interruption  of  her 
supplies,  than,  with  her  usual  vigilance  and  activity,  she  pro 
vided  against  its  recurrence.  She  dispatched  six  thousand 
foot-soldiers,  under  the  command  of  experienced  officers,  to  re 
pair  the  roads,  and  to  make  causeways  and  bridges,  for  the 
distance  of  seven  Spanish  leagues.  The  troops,  also,  who  had 
been  stationed  in  the  mountains  by  the  king  to  guard  the  de 
files,  made  two  paths, — one  for  the  convoys  going  to  the  camp, 
and  the  other  for  those  returning,  that  they  might  not  meet 
and  impede  each  other.  The  edifices  which  had  been  de 
molished  by  the  late  floods  were  rebuilt  in  a  firmer  manner, 
and  precautions  were  taken  to  protect  the  camp  from  future 
inundations. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  285 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

ENCOUNTERS  BETWEEN  THE  CHRISTIANS  AND  MOORB,  BEFORE 
BAZA;  AND  THE  DEVOTION  OF  THE  INHABITANTS  TO  THE  DE 
FENCE  OF  THEIR  CITY. 

WHEN  King  Ferdinand  beheld  the  ravage  and  confusion 
produced  by  a  single  autumnal  storm,  and  bethought  him  of 
all  the  nlaladies  to  which  a  besieging  camp  is  exposed  in  in 
clement  seasons,  he  began  to  feel  his  compassion  kindling  for 
the  suffering  people  of  Baza,  and  an  inclination  to  grant  them 
more  favorable  terms.  He  sent,  therefore,  several  messages  to 
the  alcayde  Mohammed  ben  Hassan,  offering  liberty  of  person 
and  security  of  property  for  the  inhabitants,  and  large  rewards 
for  himself,  if  he  would  surrender  the  city. 

The  veteran  Mohammed  was  not  to  be  dazzled  by  the  splen 
did  offers  of  the  monarch;  he  had  received  exaggerated  ac 
counts  of  the  damage  done  to  the  Christian  camp  by  the  late 
storm,  and  of  the  sufferings  and  discontents  of  the  army  in 
consequence  of  the  transient  interruption  of  supplies ;  he  con 
sidered  the  overtures  of  Ferdinand  as  proofs  of  the  desperate 
state  of  his  affairs.  "A  little  more  patience,  a  little  more 
patience,"  said  the  shrewd  old  warrior,  "  and  we  shall  see  this 
cloud  of  Christian  locusts  driven  away  before  the  winter 
storms.  When  they  once  turn  their  backs,  it  will  be  our  turn 
to  strike;  and  with  the  help  of  Allah,  the  blow  shall  be  de 
cisive."  He  sent  a  firm  though  courteous  refusal  to  the  Casti- 
lian  monarch,  and  in  the  mean  time  animated  his  companions 
to  sally  forth  with  more  spirit  than  ever,  to  attack  the  Spanish 
outposts  and  those  laboring  in  the  trenches.  The  consequence 
was,  a  daily  occurrence  of  the  most  daring  and  bloody  skirm 
ishes,  that  cost  the  lives  of  many  of  the  bravest  and  most  ad 
venturous  cavaliers  of  either  army. 

In  one  of  these  sallies,  nearly  three  hundred  horse  and  two 
thousand  foot  mounted  the  heights  behind  the  city,  to  capture 
the  Christians  who  were  employed  upon  the  works.  They 
came  by  surprise  upon  a  body  of  guards,  esquires  of  the  count 
de  Urena,  killed  some,  put  the  rest  to  flight,  and  pursued 
them  down  the  mountain,  until  they  came  in  sight  of  a  small 


286  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

force  under  the  count  de  Tendilla  and  Gonsalvo  of  Cordova. 
The  Moors  came  rushing  down  with  such  fury,  that  many  of 
the  men  of  the  count  de  Tendilla  betook  themselves  to  flight. 
The  brave  count  considered  it  less  dangerous  to  fight  than  to 
fly.  Bracing  his  buckler,  therefore,  and  grasping  his  trusty 
weapon,  he  stood  his  ground  with  his  accustomed  prowess. 
Gonsalvo  of  Cordova  ranged  himself  by  his  side,  and,  marshal 
ling  the  troops  which  remained  with  them,  they  made  a  valiant 
front  to  the  Moors. 

The  infidels  pressed  them  hard,  and  were  gaining  the  ad 
vantage,  when  Alonzo  de  Aguilar,  hearing  of  the  danger  of  his 
brother  Gonsalvo,  flew  to  his  assistance,  accompanied  by  the 
count  of  Urena  and  a  body  of  their  troops.  A  hot  fight  ensued, 
from  cliff  to  cliff  and  glen  to  glen.  The  Moors  were  fewer  in 
number,  but  they  excelled  in  the  dexterity  and  lightness  re 
quisite  for  their  scrambling  skirmishes.  They  were  at  length 
driven  from  their  vantage-ground,  and  pursued  by  Alonzo  de 
Aguilar  and  his  brother  Gonsalvo  to  the  very  suburbs  of  the 
city,  leaving  many  of  the  bravest  of  their  men  upon  the  field. 

Such  was  one  of  innumerable  rough  encounters  which  were 
daily  taking  place,  in  which  many  brave  cavaliers  were  slain, 
without  any  apparent  benefit  to  either  party.  The  Moors  not 
withstanding  repeated  defeats  and  losses,  continued  to  sally 
forth  daily,  with  astonishing  spirit  and  vigor,  and  the  obsti- 
nacy  of  their  defence  seemed  to  increase  with  their  sufferings. 

The  prince  Cidi  Yahye  was  ever  foremost  in  these  sallies, 
but  he  grew  daily  more  despairing  of  success.  All  the  money 
in  the  military  chest  was  expended,  and  there  was  no  longer 
wherewithal  to  pay  the  hired  troops.  Still  the  veteran  Mo 
hammed  ben  Hassan  undertook  to  provide  for  this  emergency. 
Summoning  the  principal  inhabitants,  he  represented  the 
necessity  of  some  exertion  and  sacrifice  on  their  part,  to 
maintain  the  defence  of  the  city.  "The  enemy,"  said  he, 
"dreads  the  approach  of  winter,  and  our  perseverance  drives 
him  to  despair.  A  little  longer,  and  he  will  leave  you  in 
quiet  enjoyment  of  your  homes  and  families.  But  our  troops 
must  be  paid,  to  keep  them  in  good  heart.  Our  money  is 
exhausted,  and  all  our  supplies  are  cut  off.  It  is  impossible 
to  continue  our  defence,  without  your  aid." 

Upon  this  the  citizens  consulted  together,  and  they  collected 
all  their  vessels  of  gold  and  silver,  and  brought  them  to  Mo 
hammed  ben  Hassan:  "Take  these,"  said  they,  "and  coin 
them,  or  sell  them,  or  pledge  them,  for  money  wherewith  to 


THto  CONQUEST  Of   GRANADA.  287 

pay  the  troops."  The  women  of  Baza  also  were  seized  with 
generous  emulation:  "Shall  we  deck  ourselves  with  gorgeous 
apparel,"  said  they,  "when  our  country  is  desolate,  and  its 
defenders  in  want  of  bread?"  So  they  took  their  collars,  and 
bracelets  and  anklets,  and  other  ornaments  of  gold,  and  all 
their  jewels,  and  put  them  in  the  hands  of  the  veteran  alcayde: 
"Take  these  spoils  of  our  vanity,"  said  they,  "and  let  them 
contribute  to  the  defence  of  our  homes  and  families.  If  Baza 
be  delivered,  we  need  no  jewels  to  grace  our  rejoicing;  and  if 
Baza  fall,  of  what  avail  are  ornaments  to  the  captive?" 

By  these  contributions  was  Mohammed  enabled  to  pay  the 
soldiery,  and  to  carry  on  the  defence  of  the  city  with  una 
bated  spirit. 

Tidings  were  speedily  conveyed  to  king  Ferdinand,  of  this 
generous  devotion  on  the  part  of  the  people  of  Baza,  and  the 
hopes  which  the  Moorish  commanders  gave  them  that  the 
Christian  army  would  soon  abandon  the  siege  in  dispair. 
"They  shall  have  a  convincing  proof  of  the  fallacy  of  such 
hopes,"  said  the  politic  monarch:  so  he  wrote  forth  to  queen 
Isabella,  praying  her  to  come  to  the  camp  in  state,  with  all  her 
train  and  retinue,  and  publicly  to  take  up  her  residence  there 
for  the  winter.  By  this  means,  the  Moors  would  be  convinced 
of  the  settled  determination  of  the  sovereigns  to  persist  in  the 
siege  until  the  city  should  surrender,  and  he  trusted  they 
would  be  brought  to  speedy  capitulation. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

HOW  QUEEN  ISABELLA  ARRIVED   AT  THE   CAMP,    AND   THE    CONSE 
QUENCES  OF  HER  ARRIVAL. 

MOHAMMED  BEN  HASSAN  still  encouraged  his  companions 
with  hopes  that  the  royal  army  would  soon  relinquish  the 
siege;  when  they  heard,  one  day,  shouts  of  joy  from  the 
Christian  camp,  and  thundering  salvos  of  artillery.  Word  was 
brought,  at  the  same  time,  from  the  sentinels  on  the  watch- 
towers,  that  a  Christian  army  was  approaching  down  the  val 
ley.  Mohammed  and  his  fellow-commanders  ascended  one  of 
the  highest  towers  of  the  walls,  and  beheld  in  truth  a  num 
erous  force,  in  shining  array,  descending  the  hills,  and  heard 


288  ™&   CON  QU  ESI    OP  GRANADA. 

the  distant  clangor  of  the  trumpet  and  the  faint  swell  of 
triumphant  music. 

As  the  host  drew  nearer,  they  descried  a  stately  dame  mag 
nificently  attired,  whom  they  soon  discovered  to  be  the  queen. 
She  was  riding  on  a  mule,  the  sumptuous  trappings  of  which 
were  resplendent  with  gold,  and  reached  to  the  ground.  On 
her  right  hand  rode  her  daughter,  the  princess  Isabella,  equally 
splendid  in  her  array;  and  on  her  left,  the  venerable  grand 
cardinal  of  Spain.  A  noble  train  of  ladies  and  cavaliers  fol 
lowed  her,  together  with  pages  and  esquires,  and  a  numerous 
guard  of  hidalgos  of  high  rank,  arrayed  in  superb  armor. 
When  the  veteran  Mohammed  ben  Hassan  beheld  that  this 
was  the  queen  Isabella,  arriving  in  state  to  take  up  her  resi 
dence  in  the  camp,  his  heart  failed  him;  he  shook  his  head 
mournfully,  and,  turning  to  his  captains,  "  Cavaliers,"  said  he, 
u  the  fate  of  Baza  is  decided !" 

The  Moorish  commanders  remained  gazing  with  a  mingled 
feeling  of  grief  and  admiration  at  this  magnificent  pageant, 
which  foreboded  the  fall  of  their  city.  Some  of  the  troops 
would  have  sallied  forth  on  one  of  their  desperate  skirmishes, 
to  attack  the  royal  guard ;  but  the  prince  Cidi  Yahye  forbade 
them ;  nor  would  he  allow  any  artillery  to  be  discharged,  or 
any  molestation  or  insult  to  be  offered ;  for  the  character  of 
Isabella  was  venerated  even  by  the  Moors ;  and  most  of  the 
commanders  possessed  that  high  and  chivalrous  courtesy 
which  belongs  to  heroic  spirits — for  they  were  among  the  no 
blest  and  bravest  cavaliers  of  the  Moorish  nation. 

The  inhabitants  of  Baza,  when  they  learned  that  the  Chris 
tian  queen  was  approaching  the  camp,  eagerly  sought  every 
eminence  that  could  command  a  view  of  the  plain ;  and  every 
battlement,  and  tower,  and  mosque,  was  covered  with  tur- 
baned  heads  gazing  at  the  glorious  spectacle.  They  beheld 
king  Ferdinand  issue  forth  in  royal  state,  attended  by  the 
marques  of  Cadiz,  the  Master  of  Santiago,  the  duke  of  Alva  the 
admiral  of  Castile,  and  many  other  nobles  of  renown;  wiiilethe 
whole  chivalry  of  the  camp,  sumptuously  arrayed,  followed  in 
his  tram,  and  the  populace  rent  the  air  with  acclamations  fit 
the  sight  of  the  patriot  queen. 

When  the  sovereigns  had  met  and  embraced  each  other,  the 
two  hosts  mingled  together  and  entered  the  camp  in  martial 
pomp;  and  the  eyes  of  the  infidel  beholders  were  dazzled  by 
the  flash  of  armor,  the  splendor  of  golden  caparisons,  the  gor 
geous  display  of  silks  and  brocades  and  velvets,  of  tossing 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GUANADA.  289 

plumes  and  fluttering  banners.  There  was  at  the  same  time  a 
triumphant  sound  of  drums  and  trumpets,  clarion  and  sack- 
buts,  mingled  with  the  sweet  melody  of  the  dulcimer,  which 
came  swelling  in  bursts  of  harmony  that  seemed  to  rise  up  to 
the  heavens.* 

On  the  arrival  of  the  queen,  (says  the  historian  Hernando 
del  Ptilgar,  who  was  present  at  the  time,)  it  was  marvellous  to 
behold  how  all  at  once  the  rigor  and  turbulence  of  war  were 
softened,  and  the  storm  of  passion  sunk  into  calm.  The  sword 
was  sheathed;  the  cross-bow  no  longer  lanched  its  deadly 
shafts ;  and  the  artillery,  which  had  hitherto  kept  up  an  inces 
sant  uproar,  now  ceased  its  thundering.  On  both  sides,  there 
was  still  a  vigilant  guard  kept  up ;  the  sentinels  bristled  the 
walls  of  Baza  with  their  lances,  and  the  guards  patrolled  the 
Christian  camp ;  but  there  was  no  sallying  forth  to  skirmish, 
nor  any  wanton  violence  or  carnage. 

Prince  Cidi  Yahye  saw,  by  the  arrival  of  the  queen,  that  the 
Christians  were  determined  to  continue  the  siege,  and  he  knew 
that  the  city  would  have  to  capitulate.  He  had  been  prodigal 
of  the  lives  of  his  soldiers,  as  long  as  he  thought  a  military 
good  was  to  be  gained  by  the  sacrifice ;  but  he  was  sparing  of 
their  blood  in  a  hopeless  cause,  and  weary  of  exasperating  the 
enemy  by  an  obstinate  yet  hopeless  defence. 

At  the  request  of  prince  Cidi  Yahye,  a  parley  was  granted, 
and  the  Master  commander  of  Leon,  Don  Gutiere  de  Cardenas, 
was  appointed  to  confer  with  the  veteran  alcayde  Mohammed. 
They  met  at  an  appointed  place,  within  view  of  both  camp  and 
city,  honorably  attended  by  cavaliers  of  cither  army.  Their 
meeting  was  highly  courteous,  for  they  had  learnt,  from  rough 
encounters  in  the  field,  to  admire  each  other's  prowess.  The 
commander  of  Leon,  in  an  earnest  speech,  pointed  out  the 
hopelessness  of  any  further  defence,  and  warned  Mohammed 
of  the  ills  which  Malaga  had  incurred  by  its  obstinacy, 
promise,  in  the  name  of  my  sovereigns,"  said  he,  "that  if  you 
surrender  immediately,  the  inhabitants  shall  be  treated  as  sub 
jects,  and  protected  in  property,  liberty,  and  religion.  If  you 
refuse,  you,  who  are  now  renowned  as  an  able  and  judicious 
commander,  will  be  chargeable  with  the  confiscations,  cap 
tivities,  and  deaths,  which  may  be  suffered  by  the  people  of 
Baza." 

The  commander  ceased,  and  Mohammed  returned  to  the  city 

*  Cura  cle  los  Palacios. 


2QO  TW  VUXQUKiST  Ob'  GRANADA. 

to  consult  with  his  companions.  It  was  evident  that  all  fur« 
ther  resistance  was  hopeless;  but  the  Moorish  commanders 
felt  that  a  cloud  might  rest  upon  upon  their  names,  should 
they,  of  their  own  discretion,  surrender  so  important  a  place 
without  its  having  sustained  an  assault.  Prince  Cidi  Yahye 
requested  permission,  therefore,  to  send  an  envoy  to  Guadix, 
with  a  letter  to  the  old  monarch  El  Zagal,  treating  of  the  sur 
render  ;  the  request  was  granted,  a  safe-conduct  assured  tc  the 
envoy,  and  the  veteran  alcayde  Mohammed  ben  Hassan  de* 
parted  upon  this  momentous  mission. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

SURRENDER  OF  BAZA. 

THE  old  warrior  king  was  seated  in  an  inner  chamber  of  the 
castle  of  Guadix,  much  cast  down  in  spirit,  and  ruminating  on 
his  gloomy  fortunes,  when  an  envoy  from  Baza  was  an 
nounced,  and  the  veteran  alcayde  Mohammed  stood  befor^ 
him.  El  Zagal  saw  disastrous  tidings  written  in  his  counter . 
ance:  "  How  fares  it  with  Baza?"  said  he,  summoning  up  I  i> 
spirits  to  the  question  "Let  this  inform  thee,"  replied  Mo 
hammed  ;  and  he  delivered  into  his  hands  the  letter  from  the 
prince  Cidi  Yahye. 

This  letter  spoke  of  the  desperate  situation  of  Baza ;  the  im 
possibility  of  holding  out  longer,  without  assistance  from  El 
Zagal;  and  the  favorable  terms  held  out  by  the  Castilian 
sovereigns.  Had  it  been  written  by  any  other  person,  El  Za 
gal  might  have  received  it  with  distrust  and  indignation ;  but 
he  confided  in  Cidi  Yahye  ar  in  a  second  self,  and  the  words  of 
his  letter  sunk  deep  in  his  heart.  When  he  had  finished  read 
ing  it,  he  sighed  deeply,  and  remained  for  some  time  lost  in 
thought,  with  his  head  drooping  upon  his  bosom.  Recovering 
himself,  at  length,  he  called  together  the  alfaquis  and  the  old 
men  of  Guadix,  and,  communicating  the  tidings  from  Baza, 
solicited  their  advice.  It  was  a  sign  of  sore  trouble  of  mind 
and  dejection  of  heart,  when  El  Zagal  sought  the  advice  of 
others ;  but  his  fierce  courage  was  tamed,  for  he  saw  the  end 
of  his  power  approaching.  The  alfaquis  and  the  old  men  did 
but  increase  the  distraction  of  his  mind  by  a  variety  of 


THE;   CONQUEST  Of  GRANADA.  291 

sel,  none  of  which  appeared  of  any  avail ;  for  unless  Baza  were 
succored,  it  was  impossible  that  it  should  hold  out ;  and  every 
attempt  to  succor  it  had  proved  ineffectual. 

El  Zagal  dismissed  his  council  in  despair,  and  summoned  the 
veteran  Mohammed  before  him.  "Allah  Acbar!"  exclaimed 
he,  "God  is  great;  there  is  but  one  God,  and  Mahomet  is  his 
prophet.  Return  to  my  cousin,  Cidi  Yahye ;  tell  him  it  is  out 
of  my  power  to  aid  him ;  he  must  do  as  seems  to  him  for  the 
best.  The  people  of  Baza  have  performed  deeds  worthy  of  im 
mortal  fame ;  I  cannot  ask  them  to  encounter  further  ills  and 
perils,  in  maintaining  a  hopeless  defence." 

The  reply  of  El  Zagal  determined  the  fate  of  the  city.  Cidi 
Yahye  and  his  fellow  commanders  immediately  capitulated, 
and  were  granted  the  most  favorable  terms.  The  cavaliers 
and  soldiers  who  had  come  from  other  parts  to  the  defence 
of  the  place,  were  permitted  to  depart  freely  with  their  arms, 
horses,  and  effects.  The  inhabitants  had  their  choice,  either 
to  depart  with  their  property,  or  to  dwell  in  the  suburbs,  in 
the  enjoyment  of  their  religion  and  laws,  taking  an  oath  of. 
fealty  to  the  sovereigns,  and  paying  the  same  tribute  they  had 
paid  to  the  Moorish  kings.  The  city  and  citadel  were  to  be 
delivered  up  in  six  days,  within  which  period  the  inhabitants 
were  to  remove  all  their  effects ;  and  in  the  mean  time,  they 
were  to  place,  as  hostages,  fifteen  Moorish  youths,  sons  of  the 
principal  inhabitants,  in  the  hands  of  the  commander  of  Leon. 
When  Cidi  Yahye  and  the  alcayde  Mohammed  came  to  de 
liver  up  the  hostages,  among  whom  were  the  sons  of  the  latter, 
they  paid  homage  to  the  king  and  queen,  who  received  them 
with  the  utmost  courtesy  and  kindness,  and  ordered  magnifi 
cent  presents  to  be  given  to  them,  and  likewise  to  the  othei\ 
Moorish  cavaliers,  consisting  of  money,  robes,  horses,  and  other 
things  of  great  value. 

The  prince  Cidi  Yahye  was  so  captivated  by  the  grace,  the 
.ignity,  and  generosity  of  Isabella,  and  the  princely  courtesy 
o  Ferdinand,  that  he  vowed  never  again  to  draw  his  sword 

gainst  such  magnanimous  sovereigns.  The  queen,  charmed 
with  his  gallant  bearing  and  his  animated  professions  of  devo* 
tion,  assured  him,  that,  having  him  on  her  side,  she  already 
considered  the  war  terminated  which  had  desolated  the  king 
dom  of  Granada. 

Mighty  and  irresistible  are  words  of  praise  from  the  lips  of 
sovereigns.  Cidi  Yahye  was  entirely  subdued  by  this  fair 
speech  from  the  illustrious  Isabella.  His  heart  burned  with  a 


f»3  THE  CONQUEST   OP  GHAXADA. 

sudden  flame  of  loyalty  towards  the  sovereigns.  He  begged 
to  be  enrolled  amongst  the  most  devoted  of  their  subjects; 
cind,  in  the  fervor  of  his  sudden  zeal,  engaged  not  merely  to 
dedicate  his  sword  to  their  service,  but  to  exert  all  his  influ 
ence,  which  was  great,  in  persuading  his  cousin,  Muley  Ab- 
dalla  el  Zagal,  to  surrender  the  cities  of  Guadix  and  Almeria, 
and  to  give  up  all  further  hostilities.  Nay,  so  powerful  was 
the  effect  produced  upon  his  mind  by  his  conversation  with 
the  sovereigns,  that  it  extended  even  to  his  religion;  for  he 
became  immediately  enlightened  as  to  the  heathenish  abomi 
nations  of  the  vile  sect  of  Mahomet,  and  struck  with  the  truths 
of  Christianity,  as  illustrated  by  such  powerful  monarchs. 
He  consented,  therefore,  to  be  baptized,  and  to  be  gathered 
into  the  fold  of  the  church.  The  pious  Agapida  indulges  in  a 
triumphant  strain  of  exultation,  on  the  sudden  and  surprising 
conversion  of  this  princely  infidel :  he  considers  it  one  of  the 
greatest  achievements  of  the  Catholic  sovereigns,  and  indeed 
one  of  the  marvellous  occurrences  of  this  holy  war:  "  But  it  is 
given  to  saints  and  pious  monarchs,"  says  he,  "to  work  mira 
cles  in  the  cause  of  the  faith ;  and  such  did  the  most  Catholic 
Ferdinand,  in  the  conversion  of  the  prince  Cidi  Yahye." 

Some  of  the  Arabian  writers  have  sought  to  lessen  the  won 
der  of  this  miracle,  by  alluding  to  great  revenues  granted  to 
the  prince  and  his  heirs  by  the  Castilian  monarchs,  together 
with  a  territory  in  Marchena,  with  towns,  lands,  and  vassals ; 
but  in  this  (says  Agapida)  we  only  see  a  wise  precaution  of 
king  Ferdinand,  to  clinch  and  secure  the  conversion  of  his 
proselyte.  The  policy  of  the  Catholic  monarch  was  at  all 
times  equal  to  his  piety.  Instead  also  of  vaunting  of  this 
great  conversion,  and  making  a  public  parade  of  the  entry  of 
the  prince  into  the  church,  king  Ferdinand  ordered  that  the 
baptism  should  be  performed  in  private,  and  kept  a  profound 
secret.  He  feared  that  Cidi  Yahye  might  otherwise  be  de 
nounced  as  an  apostate,  and  abhorred  and  abandoned  by  the 
Moors,  and  thus  his  influence  destroyed  in  bringing  the  war  to 
a  speedy  termination.* 

The  veteran  Mohammed  ben  Hassan  was  likewise  won  by 
the  magnanimity  and  munificence  of  the  Castilian  sovereigns, 
and  entreated  to  be  received  into  their  service;  and  his 
example  was  followed  by  many  other  Moorish  cavaliers,  whose 
services  were  generously  accepted  and  magnificently  rewarded. 

*  Conde,  torn.  3,  cap.  40. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  293 

Thus,  after  a  siege  of  six  months  and  twenty  days,  the  city 
of  Baza  surrendered  on  the  4th  of  December,  1489;  the  festival 
of  the  glorious  Santa  Barbara,  who  is  said,  in  the  Catholic 
calendar,  to  preside  over  thunder  and  lightning,  fire  and  gun 
powder,  and  all  kinds  of  combustions  explosions.  The  king 
and  queen  made  their  solemn  and  triumphant  entry  on  the 
following  day ;  and  the  public  joy  was  heightened  by  the  sight 
of  upwards  of  five  hundred  Christian  captives,  men,  women, 
and  children,  delivered  from  the  Moorish  dungeons. 

The  loss  of  the  Christians*  in  this  siege  amounted  to  twenty 
thousand  men,  of  whom  seventeen  thousand  died  of  disease, 
and  not  a  few  of  mere  cold,— a  kind  of  death  (says  the  his 
torian  Mariana)  peculiarly  uncomfortable ;  but  (adds  the  ven 
erable  Jesuit)  as  these  latter  were  chiefly  people  of  ignoble 
rank,  baggage-carriers  and  such  like,  the  loss  was  not  of  great 
importance. 

The  surrender  of  Baza  was  followed  by  that  of  Almunecar, 
Tavernas,  and  most  of  the  fortresses  of  the  Alpuxarra  moun 
tains;  the  inhabitants  hoped,  by  prompt  and  voluntary  sub 
mission,  to  secure  equally  favorable  terms  with  those  granted 
to  the  captured  city,  and  the  alcaydcs  to  receive  similar  re 
wards  to  those  lavished  on  its  commanders ;  nor  were  either  of 
them  disappointed.  The  inhabitants  were  permitted  to  remain 
as  Mudexares,  in  the  quiet  enjoyment  of  their  property  and 
religion;  and  as  to  the  alcaydes,  when  they  came  to  the  camp 
to  render  up  their  charges,  they  were  received  by  Ferdinand 
with  distinguished  favor,  and  rewarded  with  presents  of 
money  in  proportion  to  the  importance  of  the  places  they  had 
commanded.  Care  was  taken  by  the  politic  monarch,  how 
ever,  not  to  wound  their  pride  nor  shock  their  delicacy;  so 
these  sums  were  paid  under  color  of  arrears  due  to  them  for 
their  services  to  the  former  government.  Ferdinand  had  con 
quered  by  dint  of  sword,  in  the  earlier  part  of  the  war;  but  he 
found  gold  as  potent  as  steel,  in  this  campaign  of  Baza. 

With  several  of  these  mercenary  chieftains  came  one  named 
Ali  Aben  Fahar,  a  seasoned  warrior,  who  had  held  many 
important  commands.  He  was  a  Moor  of  a  lofty,  stern,  and 
melancholy  aspect,  and  stood  silent  and  apart,  while  his  com 
panions  surrendered  their  several  fortresses  and  retired  laden 
with  treasure.  When  it  came  to  his  turn  to  speak,  he  ad 
dressed  the  sovereigns  with  the  frankness  of  a  soldier,  but  with 
a  tone  of  dejection  and  despair. 

"I  am  a  Moor,"  said  he,  "and  of  Moorish  lineage,  and  am 


294  ™#  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

alcayde  of  the  fair  towns  and  castles  of  Purchena  and  Paterna. 
These  were  intrusted  to  me  to  defend ;  but  those  who  should 
have  stood  by  me  have  lost  all  strength  and  courage,  and  seek 
only  for  security.  These  fortresses,  therefore,  most  potent 
sovereigns,  are  yours,  whenever  you  will  send  to  take  possess 
ion  of  them. " 

Large  sums  of  gold  were  immediately  ordered  by  Ferdinand 
to  be  delivered  to  the  alcayde,  as  a  recompense  for  so  impor 
tant  a  surrender.  The  Moor,  however,  put  back  the  gift  with 
a  firm  and  haughty  demeanor:  "I  came  not,"  said  he,  "to  sell 
what  is  not  mine,  but  to  yield  what  fortune  has  made  yours ; 
and  your  majesties  may  rest  assured  that,  had  I  been  properly 
seconded,  death  would  have  been  the  price  at  which  I  would 
have  sold  my  fortresses,  and  not  the  gold  you  offer  me." 

The  Castilian  monarchs  were  struck  with  the  lofty  and  loyal 
spirit  of  the  Moor,  and  desired  to  engage  a  man  of  such  fidelity 
in  their  service ;  but  the  proud  Moslem  could  not  be  induced  to 
serve  the  enemies  of  his  nation  and  his  faith. 

"Is  there  nothing  then,"  said  Queen  Isabella,  "that  we  can 
do  to  gratify  thee,  and  to  prove  to  thee  our  regard?"  "Yes," 
replied  the  Moor ;  "  I  have  left  behind  me,  in  the  towns  and 
valleys  which  I  have  surrendered,  many  of  my  unhappy 
countrymen,  with  their  wives  and  children,  who  cannot  tear 
themselves  from  their  native  abodes.  Give  me  your  royal 
word  that  they  shall  be  protected  in  the  peaceable  enjoyment 
of  their  religion  and  their  homes."  "We  promise  it,"  said 
Isabella;  "they  shall  dwell  in  peace  and  security.  But  for 
thyself— what  dost  thou  ask  for  thyself?"  "  Nothing,"  replied 
Ali,  "but  permission  to  pass  unmolested,  with  my  horses  and 
effects  into  Africa. " 

The  Castilian  monarchs  would  fain  have  forced  upon  him 
gold  and  silver,  and  superb  horses  richly  caparisoned,  not  as 
rewards,  but  as  marks  of  personal  esteem ;  but  Ali  Aben  Fahai 
declined  all  presents  and  distinctions,  as  if  he  thought  it  crimi 
nal  to  flourish  individually  during  a  time  of  public  distress 
and  disdained  all  prosperity  that  seemed  to  grow  out  of  the 
ruins  of  his  country. 

Having  received  a  royal  passport,  he  gathered  together  his 
horses  and  servants,  his  armor  and  weapons,  and  all  his  war 
like  effects;  bade  adieu  to  his  weeping  countrymen  with  a  brow 
stamped  with  anguish,  but  without  shedding  a  tear;  and, 
mounting  his  Barbary  steed,  turned  his  back  upon  the  delight 
ful  valleys  of  his  conquered  country,  departing  on  his  lonely 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GHANA  DA.  295 

way,  to  seek  a  soldier's  fortune  amidst  the  burning  sands  of 
Africa.* 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

SUBMISSION  OF  EL  ZAGAL  TO  THE  CASTILIAN  SOVEREIGNS. 

EVIL  tidings  never  fail  by  the  way,  through  lack  of  messen 
gers  ;  they  are  wafted  on  the  wings  of  the  wind,  and  it  is  as  if 
the  very  birds  of  the  air  would  bear  them  to  the  ear  of  the 
unfortunate.  The  old  king  El  Zagal  buried  himself  in  the 
recesses  of  his  castle,  to  hide  himself  from  the  light  of  day, 
which  no  longer  shone  prosperously  upon  him ;  but  every  hour 
brought  missives,  thundering  at  the  gate,  with  the  tale  of  some 
new  disaster.  Fortress  after  fortress  had  laid  its  keys  at  the 
feet  of  the  Christian  sovereigns:  strip  by  strip,  of  warrior 
mountain  and  green  fruitful  valley,  was  torn  from  his  do 
mains,  and  added  to  the  territories  of  the  conquerors.  Scarce 
ly  a  remnant  remained  to  him,  except  a  tract  of  the  Alpux- 
arras,  and  the  noble  cities  of  Guadix  and  Almeria.  No  one 
any  longer  stood  in  awe  of  the  fierce  old  monarch;  the  terror 
of  his  frown  had  declined  with  his  power.  He  had  arrived  at 
\jhat  stage  of  adversity,  when  a  man's  friends  feel  emboldened 
to  tell  him  hard  truths,  and  to  give  him  unpalatable  advice ; 
and  when  his  spirit  is  bowed  down  to  listen  quietly,  if  not 
meekly. 

El  Zagal  was  seated  on  his  divan,  his  whole  spirit  absorbed 
in  rumination  on  the  transitory  nature  of  human  glory,  when 
his  kinsman  and  brother-in-law,  the  prince  Cidi  Yahye,  was 
announced.  That  illustrious  convert  to  the  true  faith  and  the 
interests  of  the  conquerors  of  his  country,  had  hastened  to 
Guadix  with  all  the  fervor  of  a  new  proselyte,  eager  to  prove 
his  zeal  in  the  service  of  Heaven  and  the  Castilian  sovereigns, 
by  persuading  the  old  monarch  to  abjure  his  faith  and  surren 
der  his  possessions. 

Cidi  Yahye  still  bore  the  guise  of  a  Moslem,  for  his  conver 
sion  was  as  yet  a  secret.  The  stern  heart  of  El  Zagal  softened 
at  beholding  the  face  of  a  kinsman  in  this  hour  of  adversity. 
He  folded  his  cousin  to  his  bosom,  and  gave  thanks  to  Allah 

*  Pulgar.    Garibay,  lib.  40,  cap.  40.    Cura  de  los  Palacios. 


296  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

that  amidst  all  his  troubles  he  had  still  a  friend  and  counsellor 
on  whom  he  might  rely. 

Cidi  Yahye  soon  entered  upon  the  real  purpose  of  his  mis 
sion.  Het  represented  to  El  Zagal  the  desperate  state  of  affairs, 
and  the  ir'retriveable  decline  of  Moorish  power  in  the  kingdom 
of  Granada.  "Fate,"  said  he,  "is  against  our  arms;  our  ruin 
is  written  in  the  heavens.  Remember  the  prediction  of  the 
astrologers,  at  the  birth  of  your  nephew  Boabdil.  We  had 
hoped  that  their  prediction  was  accomplished  by  his  capture 
at  Lucena;  but  it  is  now  evident  that  the  stars  portended 
not  a  temporary  and  passing  reverse  of  the  kingdom,  but  a 
final  overthrow.  The  constant  succession  of  disasters  which 
have  attended  our  efforts,  show  that  the  sceptre  of  Granada  is 
doomed  to  pass  into  the  hands  of  the  Christian  monarchs. 
Such,"  concluded  the  prince  emphatically,  and  with  a  pro 
found  and  pious  reverence,  "such  is  the  almighty  will  of 
God!" 

El  Zagal  listened  to  these  words  in  mute  attention,  without 
so  much  as  moving  a  muscle  of  his  face,  or  winking  an  eyelid. 
When  the  prince  had  concluded,  he  remained  for  a  long  time 
silent  and  pensive;  at  length,  heaving  a  profound  sigh  from  the 
very  bottom  of  his  heart,  "  Alahuma  subahana  hu !"  exclaimed 
he,  "the  will  of  God  be  done!  Yes,  my  cousin,  it  is  but  too 
evident  that  such  is  the  will  of  Allah ;  and  what  he  wills,  he 
fails  not  to  accomplish.  Had  he  not  decreed  the  fall  of  Gra 
nada,  this  arm  and  this  scimitar  would  have  maintained  it."  * 

"What  then  remains,"  said  Cidi  Yahpe,  "but  to  draw  the 
most  advantage  from  the  wreck  of  empire  that  is  left  you?  To 
persist  in  a  war  is  to  bring  complete  desolation  upon  the  land, 
and  ruin  and  death  upon  its  faithful  inhabitants.  Are  you  dis 
posed  to  yield  up  your  remaining  towns  to  your  nephew  El 
Chico,  that  they  may  augment  his  power,  and  derive  protec 
tion  from  his  alliance  with  the  Christian  sovereigns  ?" 

The  eye  of  El  Zagal  flashed  fire  at  this  suggestion.  He 
grasped  the  hilt  of  his  scimitar,  and  gnashed  his  teeth  in  fury. 
"Never,"  cried  he,  "will  I  make  terms  with  that  recreant  and 
slave !  Sooner  would  I  see  the  banners  of  the  Christian  mon 
archs  floating  above  my  walls,  than  that  they  should  add  to 
the  possessions  of  the  vassal  Boabdil !" 

Cidi  Yahpe  immediately  seized  upon  this  idea,  and  urged  El 
Zagal  to  make  a  frank  and  entire  surrender:  " Trust,"  said  he, 

*  Conde,  torn.  3,  c.  40. 


CONQUEST  OF  GRAXADA.  297 

"to  the  magnanimity  of  the  Castilian  sovereigns;  they  will 
doubtless  grant  you  high  and  honorable  terms.  It  is  better  to 
yield  to  them  as  friends,  what  they  must  infallibly  and  before 
long  wrest  from  you  as  enemies ;  for  such,  my  cousin,  is  the 
almighty  will  of  God !" 

"Alahuma  subahana  hul"  repeated  El  Zagal,  "the  will  of 
God  be  done !"  So  the  old  monarch  bowed  his  haughty  neck, 
and  agreed  to  surrender  his  territories  to  the  enemies  of  his 
faith,  rather  than  suffer  them  to  augment  the  Moslem  power 
under  the  sway  of  his  nephew. 

Cidi  Yahye  now  returned  to  Baza,  empowered  by  El  Zagal  to 
treat  on  his  behalf  with  the  Christian  sovereigns.  The  prince 
felt  a  species  of  exultation,  as  he  expatiated  on  -the  rich  relics 
of  empire  which  he  was  authorized  to  cede.  There  was  a  great 
part  of  that  line  of  mountains  which  extends  from  the  metro 
polis  to  the  Mediterranean  sea,  with  their  series  of  beautiful 
valleys,  like  precious  emeralds  set  in  a  golden  chain.  Above 
all,  there  were  Guadix  and  Almeria,  two  of  the  most  inestim 
able  jewels  in  the  crown  of  Granada. 

In  return  for  these  possessions,  and  for  the  claim  El  Zagal  to 
the  rest  of  the  kingdom,  the  sovereigns  received  him  into  their 
friendship  and  alliance;  and  gave  him  in  perpetual  inheritance 
the  territory  of  Andarax  and  the  valley  of  Alhauriii  in  the 
Alpuxarras,  with  half  of  the  silinas  or  salt-pits  of  Maleha.  He 
was  to  enjoy  the  title  of  king  of  Andarax,  with  two  thousand 
Mudexares,  or  conquered  Moors,  for  subjects;  and  his  reven 
ues  were  to  be  made  up  to  the  sum  of  four  millions  of  mareve- 
dies.*  All  these  he  was  to  hold,  as  a  vassal  of  the  Castilian 
crown. 

These  arrangements  being  made,  Cidi  Yahye  returned  with 
them  to  Muley  Abdalla ;  and  it  was  concerted  that  the  cere 
mony  of  surrender  and  homage  should  take  place  at  a  city  of 
Almeria. 

On  the  17th  of  December,  king  Ferdinand  departed  from 
Baza  with  a  part  of  his  army,  and  the  queen  soon  followed 
with  the  remainder.  Ferdinand  passed  in  triumph  by  several 
of  the  newly -acquired  towns,  exulting  in  these  trophies  of  his 
policy  rather  than  his  valor.  As  he  drew  near  to  Almeria,  the 
Moorish  king  came  forth  to  meet  him,  accompanied  by  the 
prince  Cidi  Yahye,  and  a  number  of  the  principal  inhabitants 
on  horseback.  The  fierce  brow  of  El  Zagal  was  clouded  with 


*  Cura  de  los  Palacios,  cap.  94. 


298  THE  CONQUEST  OF  OR  AN  AD  A. 

a  kind  of  forced  humility,  but  there  was  an  impatient  curl  of 
the  lip,  with  now  and  then  a  swelling  of  the  bosom  and  an 
indignant  breathing  from  the  distended  nostril.  It  was  evi 
dent  he  considered  himself  conquered,  not  by  the  power  of 
man,  but  by  the  hand  of  Heaven ;  and,  while  he  bowed  to  the 
decrees  of  fate,  it  galled  his  proud  spirit  to  have  to  humble 
himself  before  its  mortal  agent.  As  he  approached  the  Chris 
tian  king,  he  alighted  from  his  horse,  and  advanced  to  kiss  his 
hand  in  taken  of  homage.  Ferdinand,  however,  respected  the 
title  which  the  Moor  had  held,  and  would  not  permit  the  cere 
mony  ;  but,  bending  from  his  saddle,  graciously  embraced  him, 
and  requested  him  to  remount  his  steed.*  Several  courteous 
speeches  passed  between  them;  and  the  fortress  and  city  of 
Almeria,  and  all  the  remaining  territories  of  El  Zagal,  were 
delivered  up  in  form.  When  all  was  accomplished,  the  old 
warrior  Moor  retired  to  the  mountains  with  a  handful  of  ad 
herents,  to  seek  his  petty  territory  of  Andarax,  to  bury  his 
humiliation  from  the  world,  and  to  console  himself  with  the 
shadowy  title  of  king.f 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

EVENTS  OF  GRANADA,    SUBSEQUENT  TO  THE  SUBMISSION  OF  EL 

ZAGAL. 

WHO  can  tell  when  to  rejoice,  in  this  fluctuating  world? 
Every  wave  of  prosperity  has  its  reacting  surge,  and  we  are 
often  overwhelmed  by  the  very  billow  on  which  we  thought  to 
be  wafted  into  the  haven  of  our  hopes.  When  Yusef  Aben 
Comixa,  the  vizier  of  Boabdil,  surnamed  El  Chico,  entered 
the  royal  saloon  of  the  Alhambra  and  announced  the  capitula 
tion  of  El  Zagal,  the  heart  of  the  youthful  monarch  leaped  for 
joy.  His  great  wish  was  accomplished ;  his  uncle  was  defeated 
and  dethroned,  and  he  reigned  without  a  rival,  sole  monarch 
of  Granada.  At  length,  he  was  about  to  enjoy  the  fruits  of 
his  humiliation  and  vassalage.  He  beheld  his  throne  fortified 
by  the  friendship  and  alliance  of  the  Castilian  monarchs ;  there 
could  be  no  question,  therefore,  of  its  stability.  "Allah  Ac- 
bar!"  exclaimed  he,  "God  is  great!  Rejoice  with  me,  oh 

*  Cura  de  los  Palacios,  cap.  93.  t  Piilgar,  Garibay,  &c.,  &c. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  299 

Yusef;  the  stars  have  ceased  their  persecution.  Henceforth 
let  no  man  call  me  El  Zogoybi. " 

In  the  first  moment  of  his  exultation,  Boabdil  would  have 
ordered  public  rejoicings;  but  the  shrewd  Yusef  shook  his 
head.  u  The  tempest  has  ceased,"  said  he,  "from  one  point  of 
the  heavens,  but  it  may  begin  to  rage  from  another.  A  troub 
led  sea  is  beneath  us,  and  we  are  surrounded  by  rocks  and 
quicksands:  let  my  lord  the  king  defer  rejoicing  until  all  has 
settled  into  a  calm."  El  Chico,  however,  could  not  remain 
tranquil  in  this  day  of  exultation :  he  ordered  his  steed  to  be 
sumptuously  caparisoned,  and,  issuing  out  of  the  gate  of  the 
Alhambra,  descended,  with  a  glittering  retinue,  along  the 
avenue  of  trees  and  fountains,  into  the  city,  to  receive  the 
acclamations  of  the  populace.  As  he  entered  the  great  square 
of  the  Vivarrambla,  he  beheld  crowds  of  people  in  violent  agi 
tation;  but,  as  he  approached,  what  was  his  surprise  to  hear 
groans  and  murmurs  and  bursts  of  execration!  The  tidings 
had  spread  through  Granada,  that  Muley  Abdalla  el  Zagal  had 
been  driven  to  capitulate,  and  that  all  his  territories  had  fallen 
into  the  hands  of  the  Christians.  No  one  had  inquired  into  the 
particulars,  but  all  Granada  had  been  thrown  into  a  ferment  of 
grief  and  indignation.  In  the  heat  of  the  moment,  old  Muley 
was  extolled  to  the  skies  as  a  patriot  prince,  who  had  fought  to 
the  last  for  the  salvation  of  his  country — as  a  mirror  of  mon- 
archs,  scorning  to  compromise  the  dignity  of  his  crown  by  any 
act  of  vassalage.  Boabdil,  on  the  contrary,  had  looked  on  ex- 
ultingly  at  the  hopeless  yet  heroic  struggle  of  his  uncle ;  he  had 
rejoiced  in  the  defeat  of  the  faithful,  and  the  triumph  of  unbe 
lievers  ;  he  had  aided  in  the  dismemberment  and  downfall  of 
the  empire.  When  they  beheld  him  riding  forth  in  gorgeous 
state,  on  what  they  considered  a  day  of  humiliation  for  all  true 
Moslems,  they  could  not  contain  their  rage;  and  amidst  the 
clamors  that  met  his  ears,  Boabdil  more  than  once  heard  his 
name  coupled  with  the  epithets  of  traitor  and  renegado. 

Shocked  and  discomfited,  the  youthful  monarch  returned  in 
confusion  to  the  Alhambra.  He  shut  himself  up  within  its  in 
nermost  courts,  and  remained  a  kind  of  voluntary  prisoner 
until  the  first  burst  of  popular  feeling  should  subside.  He 
trusted  that  it  would  soon  pass  away ;  that  the  people  would  be 
too  sensible  of  the  sweets  of  peace  to  repine  at  the  price  at 
which  it  was  obtained ;  at  any  rate,  he  trusted  to  the  strong 
friendship  of  the  Christian  sovereigns,  to  secure  him  even 
against  the  factions  of  his  subjects. 


300  THE  CONQUEST  0&  GKANADA. 

The  first  missives  from  the  politic  Ferdinand  showed  Boabdil 
the  value  of  his  friendship.  The  Catholic  monarch  reminded 
him  of  a  treaty  which  he  had  made  when  captured  in  the  city 
of  Loxa.  By  this,  he  had  engaged,  that  in  case  the  Catholic 
sovereigns  should  capture  the  cities  of  Guadix,  Baza  and  Alme- 
ria,  he  would  surrender  Granada  into  their  hands  within  a 
limited  time,  and  accept  in  exchange  certain  Moorish  towns,  to 
be  held  by  him  as  their  vassal.  Ferninand  now  informed  him 
that  Gaudix,  Baza  and  Almeria  had  fallen ;  he  called  upon  him, 
therefore,  to  fulfil  his  engagement. 

If  the  unfortunate  Boabdil  had  possessed  the  Avill,  he  had  not 
the  power  to  comply  with  this  demand.  He  was  shut  up  in  the 
Alhambra,  while  a  tempest  of  popular  fury  raged  without. 
Granada  was  thronged  by  refuges  from  the  captured  towns, 
many  of  them  disbanded  soldiers,  and  others  broken-down 
citizens,  rendered  fierce  and  desperate  by  ruin.  All  railed  at 
Boabdil,  as  the  real  cause  of  their  misfortunes.  How  was  he  to 
venture  forth  in  such  a  storm? — above  all,  how  was  he  to  talk 
to  such  men  of  surrender?  In  his  reply  to  Ferdinand,  he 
represented  the  difficulties  of  his  situation,  and  that,  so  far 
from  having  control  over  his  subjects,  his  very  life  was  in  dan 
ger  from  their  turbulence.  He  entreated  the  king,  therefore, 
to  rest  satisfied  for  the  present  with  his  recent  conquests, 
promising  him  that  should  he  be  able  to  regain  full  empire  over 
his  capital  and  its  inhabitants,  it  would  but  be  to  rule  over 
them  as  vassal  to  the  Castilian  crown. 

Ferdinand  was  not  to  be  satisfied  with  such  a  reply.  The 
time  was  come  to  bring  his  game  of  policy  to  a  close,  and  to 
consummate  his  conquest  by  seating  himself  on  the  throne  of 
the  Alhambra.  Professing  to  consider  Boabdil  as  a  faithless 
ally,  who  had  broken  his  plighted  word,  he  discarded  him 
from  his  friendship,  and  addressed  a  second  letter,  not  to  that 
monarch,  but  to  the  commanders  and  council  of  the  city.  He 
demanded  a  complete  surrender  of  the  place,  with  all  the  arms 
in  the  possession  either  of  the  citizens  or  of  others  who  had  re 
cently  taken  refuge  within  its  walls.  If  the  inhabitants  should 
comply  with  this  summons,  he  promised  them  the  indulgent 
terms  Avhich  had  been  granted  to  Baza,  Guadix  and  Almeria ; 
if  they  should  refuse  he  threatened  them  with  the  fate  of 
Mnlaga.* 

The  message  of  the  Catholic  monarch  produced  the  greatest 

*  Cura  de  los  Palacios,  cap.  96. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.        301 

commotion  in  the  city.  The  inhabitants  of  the  Alcaiceria,  that 
busy  hive  of  traffic,  and  all  others  who  had  tasted  the  sweets  of 
gainful  commerce  during  the  late  cessation  of  hostilities,  were 
for  securing  their  golden  advantages  by  timely  submission: 
others,  who  had  wives  and  children,  looked  on  them  with  ten 
derness  and  solicitude,  and  dreaded,  by  resistance,  to  bring 
upon  them  the  horrors  of  slavery. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  Granada  was  crowded  with  men  from 
all  parts,  ruined  by  the  war,  exasperated  by  their  sufferings, 
and  eager  only  for  revenge ;  with  others,  who  had  been  reared 
amidst  hostilities,  who  had  lived  by  the  sword,  and  whom  a 
return  of  peace  would  leave  without  home  or  hope.  Beside 
these,  there  were  others  no  less  fiery  and  warlike  in  disposi 
tion,  but  animated  by  a  loftier  spirit.  These  were  valiant  and 
haughty  cavaliers  of  the  old  chivalrous  lineages,  who  had  in 
herited  a  deadly  hatred  to  the  Christians  from  a  long  line  of 
warrior  ancestors,  and  to  whom  the  idea  was  worse  than  death, 
that  Granada,  illustrious  Granada !  for  ages  the  seat  of  Moor 
ish  grandeur  and  delight,  should  become  the  abode  of  unbe 
lievers. 

Among  these  cavaliers,  the  most  eminent  was  Musa  ben  Abil 
Gazan.  He  was  of  royal  Jineage,  of  a  proud  and  generous  nat 
ure,  and  a  form  combining  manly  strength  and  beauty.  None 
could  excel  him  in  the  management  of  the  horse,  and  dextrous 
use  of  all  kinds  of  weapons :  his  gracefulness  and  skill  in  the 
tourney  were  the  theme  of  praise  among  the  Moorish  dames, 
and  his  prowess  in  the  field  had  made  him  the  terror  of  the 
enemy.  He  had  long  repined  at  the  timid  policy  of  Boabdil, 
and  had  endeavored  to  counteract  its  enervating  effects,  and  to 
keep  alive  the  martial  spirit  of  Granada.  For  this  reason,  he 
had  promoted  jousts  and  tiltings  with  the  reed,  and  all  those 
other  public  games  which  bear  the  semblance  of  war.  He  en 
deavored  also  to  inculcate  into  his  companions  in  arms  those 
high  chivalrous  sentiments  which  lead  to  valiant  and  mag 
nanimous  deeds,  but  which  are  apt  to  decline  with  the  inde 
pendence  of  a  nation.  The  generous  efforts  of  Muza  had  been 
in  a  great  measure  successful :  he  was  the  idol  of  the  youthful 
cavaliers;  they  regarded  him  as  a  mirror  of  chivalry,  and 
endeavored  to  imitate  his  lofty  and  heroic  virtues. 

When  Muza  heard  the  demand  of  Ferdinand  that  they  should 
deliver  up  their  arms,  his  eye  flashed  fire :  ' '  Does  the  Chris 
tian  king  think  that  we  are  old  men,"  said  he  "and  that  staffs 
will  suffice  us?— or  that  we  are  women  and  can  be  contented 


302  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

with  distaffs?  Let  him  know  that  a  Moor  is  born  to  the  spear 
and  scimitar ;  to  career  the  steed,  bend  the  bow,  and  lanch  the 
javelin :  deprive  him  of  these,  and  you  deprive  him  of  his 
nature.  If  the  Christian  king  desires  our  arms,  let  him  come 
and  win  them ;  but  let  him  win  them  dearly.  For  my  part, 
sweeter  were  a  grave  beneath  the  walls  of  Granada,  on  the 
spot  I  had  died  to  defend,  than  the  richest  couch  within  her 
palaces,  earned  by  submission  to  the  unbeliever. " 

The  words  of  Muza  were  received  with  enthusiastic  shouts 
by  the  warlike  part  of  the  populace.  Granada  once  more 
awoke,  as  a  warrior  shaking  off  a  disgraceful  lethargy.  The 
commanders  and  council  partook  of  the  public  excitement, 
and  dispatched  a  reply  to  the  Christian  sovereigns,  declaring 
that  they  would  suffer  death  rather  than  surrender  their 
city. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

HOW    KING    FERDINAND    TURNED    HIS    HOSTILITIES    AGAINST    THE 
C  ITY  OF  GRANADA. 

WHEN  king  Ferdinand  received  the  defiance  of  the  Moors, 
he  made  preparations  for  bitter  hostilities.  The  winter  season 
did  not  admit  of  an  immediate  campaign ;  he  contented  him 
self,  therefore,  with  throwing  strong  garrisons  into  all  his 
towns  and  fortresses  in  the  neighborhood  of  Granada,  and 
gave  the  command  of  all  the  frontier  of  Jaen  to  Inigo  Lopez 
de  Mendoza,  count  of  Tendilla,  who  had  shown  such  consum 
mate  vigilance  and  address  in  maintaining  the  dangerous 
post  of  Alhama.  This  renowned  veteran  established  his  head 
quarters  in  the  mountain  city  of  Alcala  la  Real,  within  eight 
leagues  of  the  city  of  Granada,  and  commanding  the  most 
important  passes  of  that  rugged  frontier. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  city  of  Granada  resounded  with  the 
stir  of  war.  The  chivalry  of  the  nation  had  again  control 
of  its  councils ;  and  the  populace,  having  once  more  resumed 
their  weapons,  were  anxious  to  wipe  out  the  disgrace  of  their 
late  passive  submission,  by  signal  and  daring  exploits. 

Muza  ben  Abil  Gazan  was  the  soul  of  action.  He  com 
manded  the  cavalry,  which  he  had  disciplined  with  uncom- 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  303 

mon  skill:  he  was  surrounded  by  the  noblest  youth  of  Gra 
nada,  who  had  caught  his  own  generous  and  martial  fire, 
and  panted  for  the  field ;  while  the  common  soldiers,  devoted 
to  his  person,  were  ready  to  follow  him  in  the  most  desper 
ate  enterprises.  He  did  not  allow  their  courage  to  cool  for 
want  of  action.  The  gates  of  Granada  once  more  poured 
forth  legions  of  light  scouring  cavalry,  which  skirred  the  coun 
try  up  to  the  very  gates  of  the  Christian  fortresses,  sweeping 
off  flocks  and  herds.  The  name  of  Muza  became  formidable 
throughout  the  frontier;  he  had  many  encounters  with  the 
enemy  in  the  rough  passes  of  the  mountains,  in  which  the  su 
perior  lightness  and  dexterity  of  his  cavalry  gave  him  the 
advantage.  The  sight  of  his  glistening  legion,  returning  across 
the  vega  with  long  cavalgadas  of  booty,  was  hailed  by  the 
Moors  as  a  revival  of  their  ancient  triumphs ;  but  when  they 
beheld  Christian  banners  borne  into  their  gates  as  trophies, 
the  exultation  of  the  light-minded  populace  was  beyond  all 
bounds. 

The  winter  passed  away;  the  spring  advanced,  yet  Ferdi 
nand  delayed  to  take  the  field.  He  knew  the  city  of  Gra 
nada  to  be  too  strong  and  populous  to  be  taken  by  assault, 
and  too  full  of  provisions  to  be  speedily  reduced  by  siege. 
"We  must  have  patience  and  perseverance,"  said  the  politic 
monarch ;  "  by  ravaging  the  country  this  year,  we  shall  pro 
duce  a  scarcity  the  next,  and  then  the  city  may  be  invested 
with  effect. 

An  interval  of  peace,  aided  by  the  quick  vegetation  of  a 
prolific  soil  and  happy  climate,  had  restored  the  vega  to  all 
its  luxuriance  and  beauty ;  the  green  pastures  on  the  borders 
of  the  Xenel  were  covered  with  flocks  and  herds ;  the  bloom 
ing  orchards  gave  promise  of  abundant  fruit,  and  the  open 
plain  was  waving  with  ripening  corn.  The  time  was  at  hand 
to  put  in  the  sickle  and  reap  the  golden  harvest,  when  sud 
denly  a  torrent  of  war  came  sweeping  down  from  the  moun 
tains;  and  Ferdinand,  with  an  army  of  five  thousand  horse 
and  twenty  thousand  foot,  appeared  before  the  walls  of  Gra 
nada.  He  had  left  the  queen  and  princess  at  the  fortress  of 
Moclin,  and  came  attended  by  the  duke  of  Medina  Sidonia, 
the  marques  of  Cadiz,  the  marques  de  Villena,  the  counts  of 
Urefia  and  Cabra,  Don  Alonzo  de  Aguilar,  and  other  renowned 
cavaliers.  On  this  occasion,  king  Ferdinand  for  the  first  time 
led  his  son,  prince  Juan,  into  the  field,  and  bestowed  upon 
him  the  dignity  of  knighthood.  As  if  to  stimulate  him  to 


304  TUE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

grand  achievements,  the  ceremony  took  place  on  the  banks 
of  the  grand  canal,  almost  beneath  the  embattled  walls  of 
that  warlike  city,  the  object  of  such  daring  enterprises,  and 
in  the  midst  of  that  famous  vega  which  had  been  the  field  of 
so  many  chivalrous  exploits.  Above  them  shone  resplendent 
the  red  towers  of  the  Alhambra,  rising  from  amidst  delicious 
groves,  with  the  standard  of  Mahomet  waving  defiance  to  the 
Christian  arms. 

The  duke  of  Medina  Sidonia,  and  the  valiant  Roderigo  Ponce 
de  Leon,  marques  of  Cadiz,  were  sponsors;  and  all  the  chiv 
alry  of  the  camp  was  assembled  on  the  occasion.  The  prince, 
after  he  was  knighted,  bestowed  the  same  honor  on  several 
youthful  cavaliers  of  high  rank,  just  entering,  like  himself, 
on  the  career  of  arms. 

Ferdinand  did  not  loiter,  in  carrying  his  desolating  plans 
into  execution.  He  detached  parties  in  every  direction,  to 
lay  waste  the  country,  villages  were  sacked,  burnt,  and  de 
stroyed,  and  the  lovely  vega  once  more  laid  waste  with  fire 
and  sword.  The  ravage  was  carried  so  close  to  Granada,  that 
the  city  was  wrapped  in  the  smoke  of  its  gardens  and  hamlets. 
The  dismal  cloud  rolled  up  the  hill  and  hung  about  the  towers 
of  the  Alhambra,  where  the  unfortunate  Boabdil  still  remained 
shut  up  from  the  indignation  of  his  subjects.  Tlie  hapless 
monarch  smote  his  breast,  as  he  looked  down  from  his  moun 
tain  palace  on  the  desolation  effected  by  his  late  ally.  He 
dared  not  even  show  himself  in  arms  among  the  populace,  for 
they  cursed  him  as  the  cause  of  the  miseries  once  more  brought 
to  their  doors. 

The  Moors,  however,  did  not  suffer  the  Christians  to  carry  on 
their  ravages  as  unmolested  as  in  former  years.  Muza  incited 
them  to  incessant  sallies.  He  divided  his  cavalry  into  small 
squadrons,  each  led  by  a  daring  commander.  They  were 
taught  to  hover  round  the  Christian  camp ;  to  harass  it  from 
various  and  opposite  quarters,  cutting  off  convoys  and  strag 
gling  detachments ;  to  waylay  the  army  in  its  ravaging  expe 
ditions,  lurking  among  rocks  and  passes  of  the  mountains,  or 
in  hollows  and  thickets  of  the  plain,  and  practising  a  thousand 
stratagems  and  surprises. 

The  Christian  army  had  one  day  spread  itself  out  rather 
unguardedly,  in  its  foraging  about  the  vega.  As  the  troops 
commanded  by  the  marques  of  Villena  approached  the  skirts 
of  the  mountains,  they  beheld  a  number  of  Moorish  peasants 
hastily  driving  a  herd  of  cattle  into  a  narrow  glen.  The  sol- 


THE  CONQUEST  OP  GRANADA.  305 

diers,  eager  for  booty,  pressed  in  pursuit  of  them.  Scarcely 
had  they  entered  the  glen,  when  shouts  arose  from  every  side, 
and  they  were  furiously  attacked  by  an  ambuscade  of  horse 
and  foot.  Some  of  the  Christians  took  to  flight ;  others  stood 
their  ground,  and  fought  valiantly.  The  Moors  had  the  van 
tage-ground  ;  some  showered  darts  and  arrows  from  the  cliffs 
of  the  rocks,  others  fought  hand  to  hand  on  the  plain;  while 
their  cavalry,  rapid  as  lightning  in  their  movements,  carried 
havoc  and  confusion  into  the  midst  of  the  Christian  forces. 

The  marques  de  Villena,  with  his  brother  Don  Alonzo  de 
Pacheco,  at  the  first  onset  of  the  Moors,  spurred  into  the  hot 
test  of  the  fight.  They  had  scarce  entered,  when  Don  Alonzo 
was  struck  lifeless  from  his  horse,  before  the  eyes  of  his 
brother.  Estevan  de  Luzon,  a  gallant  captain,  fell  fighting 
bravely  by  the  side  of  the  marques,  who  remained,  with  his 
chamberlain  Solier  and  a  handful  of  knights,  surrounded  by 
the  enemy.  Several  cavaliers  from  other  parts  of  the  army 
hastened  to  their  assistance,  when  King  Ferdinand,  seeing 
that  the  Moors  had  the  vantage-ground  and  that  the  Christians 
were  suffering  severely,  gave  signal  for  retreat.  The  marques 
obeyed  slowly  and  reluctantly,  for  his  heart  was  full  of  grief 
and  rage  at  the  death  of  his  brother.  As  he  was  retiring,  he 
beheld  his  faithful  chamberlain  Solier  defending  himself  val 
iantly  against  six  Moors.  The  marques  turned,  and  rushed  to 
his  rescue ;  he  killed  two  of  the  enemy  with  his  own  hand,  and 
put  the  rest  to  flight.  One  of  the  Moors,  however,  in  retreat 
ing,  rose  in  his  stirrups,  and,  hurling  his  lance  at  the  marques, 
wounded  him  in  the  right  arm  and  crippled  him  for  life.* 

Such  was  one  of  the  many  ambuscadoes  concerted  by  Muza ; 
nor  did  he  hesitate  at  times  to  present  a  bold  front  to  the 
Christian  forces,  and  to  defy  them  in  the  open  field.  King 
Ferdinand  soon  perceived,  however,  that  the  Moors  seldom 
provoked  a  battle  without  having  the  advantage  of  the  ground ; 
and  that  though  the  Christians  generally  appeared  to  have  the 
victory,  they  suffered  the  greatest  loss ;  for  retreating  was  a 
part  of  the  Moorish  system,  by  which  they  would  draw  their 

*  In  consequence  of  this  wound,  the  marques  was  ever  after  obliged  to  write  his 
Signature  with  his  left  hand,  though  capable  of  managing  his  lance  with  his  right 
The  queen  one  day  demanded  of  him,  why  he  had  adventured  his  life  for  that  of  a 
domestic?  "Does  not  your  majesty  think,"  replied  he.  "  that  I  ought  to  risk  one 
life  for  him  who  would  have  adventured  three  for  me  had  he  possessed  them?" 
The  queen  was  charmed  with  the  magnanimity  of  the  reply,  and  often  quoted  the 
marques  as  an  heroic  example  to  the  chivalry  of  the  age.-Mariana,  lib.  25.  c.  15. 


Tllti  GQJtQ&E&T  OF  GllANADA. 

pursuers  into  confusion,  and  then  turn  upon  them  with  a  more 
violent  and  fatal  attack.  He  commanded  his  captains,  there 
fore,  to  decline  all  challenges  to  skirmish,  and  to  pursue  a  sure 
system  of  destruction,  ravaging  the  country,  and  doing  all 
possible  injury  to  the  enemy,  with  slight  risk  to  themselves. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

THE  FATE  OF  THE  CASTLE  OF  ROMA. 

ABOUT  two  leagues  from  Granada,  on  an  eminence  com 
manding  an  extensive  view  of  the  vega,  stood  the  strong 
Moorish  castle  of  Roma,  a  great  place  of  refuge  and  security. 
Hither  the  neighboring  peasantry  drove  their  flocks  and  herds, 
and  hurried  with  their  most  precious  effects,  on  the  irruption 
of  a  Christian .  force ;  and  any  foraging  or  skirmishing  party 
from  Granada,  on  being  intercepted  in  their  return,  threw 
themselves  into  Roma,  manned  its  embattled  towers,  and  set 
the  enemy  at  defiance.  The  garrison  were  accustomed  to 
these  sudden  claims  upon  their  protection;  to  have  parties  of 
Moors  clattering  up  to  their  gates,  so  hotly  pursued  that  there 
was  barely  time  to  throw  open  the  portal,  receive  them  within, 
and  shut  out  their  pursuers ;  while  the  Christian  cavaliers  had 
many  a  time  reined  in  their  panting  steeds  at  the  very  en 
trance  of  the  barbacan,  and  retired,  cursing  the  strong  walls 
of  Roma,  that  robbed  them  of  their  prey. 

The  late  ravages  of  Ferdinand,  and  the  continual  skirmish 
ings  in  the  vega,  had  roused  the  vigilance  of  the  castle.  One 
morning  early,  as  the  sentinels  kept  watch  upon  the  battle 
ments,  they  beheld  a  cloud  of  dust  advancing  rapidly  from  a 
distance:  turbans  and  Moorish  weapons  soon  caught  their 
eyes ;  and  as  the  whole  approached,  they  descried  a  drove  of 
cattle,  urged  on  in  great  haste,  and  convoyed  by  one  hundred 
and  fifty  Moors,  who  led  with  them  two  Christian  captives  in 
chains. 

When  the  cavalgada  had  arrived  near  to  the  castle,  a  Moor 
ish  cavalier,  of  noble  and  commanding  mien  and  splendid 
attire,  rode  up- to  the  foot  of  the  tower,  and  entreated  admit 
tance.  Tie  stated  that  they  were  returning  with  rich  booty 
from  a,  foray  into  the  lands  of  the  Christians,  but  that  the 
enemy  was  on  their  traces,  and  they  feared  to  be  overtaken 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRAKADA.  •    807 

before  they  could  reach  Granada.  The  sentinels  descended  in 
all  haste,  and  flung  open  the  gates.  The  long  cavalgada 
defiled  into  the  courts  of  the  castle,  which  were  soon  filled 
with  lowing  and  bleating  flocks  and  herds,  with  neighing  and 
stamping  steeds,  and  with  fierce-looking  Moors  from  the  moun 
tains.  The  cavalier  who  had  asked  admission  was  the  chief  of 
the  party ;  he  was  somewhat  advanced  in  life,  of  a  lofty  and 
gallant  bearing,  and  had  with  him  a  son,  a  young  man  of 
great  fire  and  spirit.  Close  by  them  followed  the  two  Christian 
captives,  with  looks  cast  down  and  disconsolate. 

The  soldiers  of  the  garrison  had  roused  themselves  from 
their  sleep,  and  were  busily  occupied  attending  to  the  cattle 
which  crowded  the  courts;  while  the  foraging  party  distrib 
uted  themselves  about  the  castle,  to  seek  refreshment  or  re 
pose.  Suddenly  a  shout  arose,  that  was  echoed  from  court 
yard,  and  hall,  and  battlement.  The  garrison,  astonished  and 
bewildered,  would  have  rushed  to  their  arms,  but  found  them 
selves,  almost  before  they  could  make  resistance,  completely 
in  the  power  of  an  enemy. 

The  pretended  foraging  party  consisted  of  Mudexares,  or 
Moors  tributary  to  the  Christians ;  and  the  commanders  were 
the  prince  Cidi  Yahye,  and  his  son  Alnayer.  They  had  hast 
ened  from  the  mountains  with  this  small  force,  to  aid  the 
Catholic  sovereigns  during  the  summer's  campaign ;  and  they 
had  concerted  to  surprise  this  important  castle,  and  present  it 
to  King  Ferdinand,  as  a  gage  of  their  faith,  and  the  first  fruits 
of  their  devotion. 

The  polite  monarch  overwhelmed  his  new  converts  and  allies 
with  favors  and  distinctions,  in  return  for  this  important 
acquisition;  but  he  took  care  to  despatch  a  strong  force  of 
veteran  and  genuine  Christian  troops,  to  man  the  fortress. 

As  to  the  Moors  who  had  composed  the  garrison,  Cidi  Yahye 
remembered  that  they  were  his  country -men,  and  could  not 
prevail  upon  himself  to  deliver  them  into  Christian  bondage. 
He  set  them  at  liberty,  and  permitted  them  to  repair  to  Gra 
nada; — "a  proof,"  says  the  pious  Agapida,  "that  his  conver 
sion  was  not  entirely  consummated,  but  that  there  were  still 
some  lingerings  of  the  infidel  in  his  heart. "  His  lenity  was  far 
from  procuring  him  indulgence  in  the  opinions  of  his  country 
men  ;  011  the  contrary,  the  inhabitants  of  Granada,  when  they 
learnt  from  the  liberated  garrison  the  stratagem  by  which 
Roma  had  been  captured,  cursed  Cidi  Yahye  for  &  traitor ;  and 
the  garrison  joined  in  the  malediction, 


r,OS         THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

But  the  indignation  of  the  people  of  Granada  was  destined 
to  be  aroused  to  tenfold  violence.  The  old  warrior  Muley  Ab- 
dalla  el  Zagal  had  retired  to  his  little  mountain  territory,  and 
for  a  short  time  endeavored  to  console  himself  with  his  petty 
title  of  king  of  Andarax.  He  soon  grew  impatient,  however, 
of  the  quiet  and  inaction  of  his  mimic  kingdom.  His  fierce 
spirit  was  exasperated  by  being  shut  up  within  such  narrow 
limits,  and  his  hatred  rose  to  downright  fury  against  Boabdil, 
whom  he  considered  as  the  cause  of  his  downfall.  When 
tidings  were  brought  him  that  king  Ferdinand  was  laying 
waste  the  vega,  he  took  a  sudden  resolution.  Assembling  the 
whole  disposable  force  of  his  kingdom,  which  amounted  but  to 
two  hundred  men,  he  descended  from  the  Alpuxarras  and 
sought  the  Christian  camp,  content  to  serve  as  a  vassal  the 
enemy  of  his  faith  and  his  nation,  so  that  he  might  see  Gra 
nada  wrested  from  the  sway  of  his  nephew. 

In  his  blind  passion,  the  old  wrathful  monarch  injured  his 
cause,  and  strengthened  the  cause  of  his  adversary.  The 
Moors  of  Granada  had  been  clamorous  in  his  praise,  extoll 
ing  him  as  a  victim  to  his  patriotism,  and  had  refused  to 
believe  all  reports  of  his  patriotism,  and  had  refused  to  be 
lieve  all  reports  of  his  treaty  with  the  Christians ;  but  when 
they  beheld  from  the  walls  of  the  city,  his  banner  mingling 
with  the  banners  of  the  unbelievers,  and  arrayed  against  his 
late  people,  and  the  capital  he  had  commanded,  they  broke 
forth  into  curses  and  revilings,  and  heaped  all  kind  of  stigmas 
upon  his  name. 

Their  next  emotion,  of  course,  was  in  favor  of  Boabdil.  They 
gathered  under  the  walls  of  the  Alhambra,  and  hailed  him  an 
their  only  hope,  as  the  sole  dependence  of  the  country.  Boab 
dil  could  scarcely  believe  his  senses,  when  he  heard  his  name 
mingled  with  praises  and  greeted  with  acclamations.  Encour 
aged  by  this  unexpected  gleam  of  popularity,  he  ventured  forth 
from  his  retreat,  and  was  received  with  rapture.  All  his  past 
errors  were  attributed  to  the  hardships  of  his  fortune,  and  the 
usurpation  of  his  tyrant  uncle ;  and  whatever  breath  the  popu 
lace  could  spare  from  uttering  curses  on  El  Zagal,  was  ex 
pended  in  shouts  in  honor  of  El  Chico. 


THE  COXQU&ST  01<'  GUAM  ADA.  3Q9 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

HOW   BOABDIL  EL  CHICO   TOOK  THE  FIELD;    AND  HIS  EXPEDITION 
AGAINST  ALHENDIN. 

FOR  thirty  days  had  the  vega  been  overrun  by  the  Christian 
forces;  and  that  vast  plain,  late  so  luxuriant  and  beautiful, 
was  one  wide  scene  of  desolation.  The  destroying  army,  hav 
ing  accomplished  its  task,  passed  over  the  ridge  of  Pinos  and 
wound  up  into  the  mountains,  on  the  way  to  Cordova,  bearing 
-away  the  spoils  of  towns  and  villages,  and  driving  off  flocks  - 
and  herds  in  long  dusty  columns.  The  sound  of  the  last  Chris 
tian  trumpet  died  away  along  the  side  of  the  mountain  of  El 
vira,  and  not  a  hostile  squadron  was  seen  glistening  on  the 
mournful  fields  of  the  vega. 

The  eyes  of  Boabdil  el  Chico  were  at  length  opened  to  the 
real  policy  of  king  Ferdinand,  and  he  saw  that  he  had  no 
longer  any  thing  to  depend  upon  but  the  valor  of  his  arm.  No 
time  was  to  be  lost  in  hastening  to  counteract  the  effect  of  the 
late  Christian  ravage,  and  in  opening  the  channel  for  distant 
supplies  to  Granada. 

Scarcely  had  the  retiring  squadrons  of  Ferdinand  disap 
peared  among  the  mountains,  when  Boabdil  buckled  on  his 
armor,  sallied  forth  from  the  Alhambra,  and  prepared  to  take 
the  field.  When  the  populace  beheld  him  actually  in  arms 
against  his  late  ally,  feoth  parties  thronged  with  zeal  to  his 
standard.  The  hardy  inhabitants  also  of  the  Sierra  Nevada, 
or  chain  of  snow-capped  mountains  which  rise  above  Granada, 
descended  from  their  heights,  and  hastened  into  the  city  gates, 
to  proffer  their  devotion  to  their  youthful  king.  The  great 
square  of  the  Vivarrambla  shone  with  the  proud  array  of 
legions  of  cavalry,  decked  with  the  colors  and  devices  of  the 
most  ancient  Moorish  families,  and  marshalled  forth  by  the 
patriot  Muza  to  follow  the  king  to  battle. 

It  was  on  the  15th  of  June  that  Boabdil  once  more  issued 
forth  from  the  pates  of  Granada  on  martial  enterprise.  A  few 
leagues  from  the  city,  within  full  view  of  it,  and  at  the  en 
trance  of  the  Alpuxarra  mountains,  stood  the  powerful  castle 
of  Alhendin.  It  was  built  on  an  eminence,  rising  from  the 
midst  of  a  smrll  town,  and  commanding  a  great  part  of  the 


810  THE  COSQUKS?  OF  GRANADA. 

vega,  and  the  main  road  to  the  rich  valleys  of  the  Alpuxarras. 
The  castle  was  commanded  by  a  valiant  Christian  cavalier 
named  Mendo  de  Quexada,  and  garrisoned  by  two  Lundred 
and  fifty  men,  all  seasoned  and  experienced  warriors.  It  was 
a  continual  thorn  in  the  side  of  Granada:  the  laborers  of  the 
vega  were  swept  off  from  their  fields,  by  its  hardy  soldiers ; 
convoys  were  cut  off,  in  the  passes  of  the  mountains ;  and  as 
the  garrison  commanded  a  full  view  of  the  gates  of  the  city, 
no  band  of  merchants  could  venture  forth  on  their  needful 
journeys,  without  being  swooped  up  by  the  war -hawks  of 
Alhenclin. 

It  was  against  this  important  fortress,  that  EoaLdil  led  his 
troops.  For  six  days  and  nights,  the  fortress  was  closely  be 
sieged.  The  alcayde  and  his  veteran  garrison  defended  them 
selves  valiantly,  but  they  were  exhausted  by  fatigue  and  con 
stant  watchfulness ;  for  the  Moors,  being  continually  relieved 
by  fresh  troops  from  Granada,  kept  up  an  unr emitted  and  vig 
orous  attack.  Twice  the  barbacan  was  forced,  and  twice  the 
assailants  were  driven  forth  headlong  with  excessive  loss. 
The  garrison,  however,  was  diminished  in  number  by  the 
killed  and  wounded ;  there  were  no  longer  soldiers  sufficient 
to  man  the  walls  and  gateway;  and  the  brave  alcayde  was 
compelled  to  retire,  with,  his  surviving  force,  to  the  keep  of 
the  castle,  in  which  he  continued  to  make  desperate  resistance. 

The  Moors  now  approached  the  foot  of  the  tower,  under 
shelter  of  wooden  screens  covered  with  wet  hides,  to  ward  off 
missiles  and  combustibles.  They  went  to  work  vigorously  to 
undermine  the  tower,  placing  props  of  wood  under  the  founda 
tions,  to  be  afterwards  set  on  fire,  so  as  to  give  the  besiegers 
time  to  escape  before  the  edifice  should  fall  Some  of  the 
Moors  plied  their  cross-bows  and  arquebusses  to  defend  the 
workmen,  and  to  drive  the  Christians  from  the  wall ;  while 
the  latter  showered  down  stones,  and  darts,  and  melted  pitch, 
and  flaming  combustibles,  on  the  miners. 

The  brave  Mendo  .de  Quexada  had  cast  many  an  anxious  eye 
across  the  vega,  in  hopes  of  seeing  some  Christian  force  hast 
ening  to  his  assistance.  Not  a  gleam  of  spear  or  helm  was  to 
be  descried,  for  no  one  had  dreamt  of  this  sudden  irruption 
of  the  Moors.  The  alcayde  beheld  his  bravest  men  dead  or 
wounded  around  him,  while  the  remainder  were  sinking  with 
watchfulness  and  fatigue.  In  defiance  of  all  opposition,  the 
Moors  had  accomplished  their  mine;  the  fire  was  brought  be 
fore  the  walls,  that  was  to  be  applied  to  the  stanchions,  in  case 


THE  CONQUEST  OP  GRANADA.  31 1 

the  garrison  persisted  in  defence.  In  a  little  while,  the  tower 
would  crumble  beneath  him,  and  be  rent  and  hurled  a  ruin  to 
the  plain.  At  the  very  last  moment,  the  brave  alcayde  made 
the  signal  of  surrender.  He  marched  forth  with  the  remnant 
of  his  veteran  garrison,  who  were  all  made  prisoners.  Boabdil 
immediately  ordered  the  walls  of  the  fortress  to  be  razed,  and 
fire  to  be  applied  to  the  stanchions,  that  the  place  might  never 
again  become  a  strong-hold  to  the  Christians,  and  a  scourge  to 
Granada.  The  alcayde  and  his  fellow-captives  were  led  in  de 
jected  convoy  across  the  vega,  when  they  heard  a  tremendous 
crash  behind  them.  They  turned  to  look  upon  their  late  for 
tress,  but  beheld  nothing  but  a  heap  of  tumbling  ruins,  and  a 
vast  column  of  smoke  and  dust,  where  once  had  stood  the  lofty 
tower  of  Alhendin. 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

EXPLOIT  OF  THE  COUNT  DE  TENDILLA. 

BOABDIL  EL  CHICO  followed  up  his  success,  by  capturing  the 
two  fortresses  of  Marchena  and  Buldy ;  he  sent  his  alfaquis  in 
every  direction,  to  proclaim  a  holy  war,  and  to  summon  all 
true  Moslems  of  town  or  castle,  mountain  or  valley,  to  saddle 
steed  and  buckle  on  armor,  and  hasten  to  the  standard  of  the 
faith.  The  tidings  spread  far  and  wide,  that  Boabdil  el  Chico 
was  once  more  in  the  field,  and  was  victorious.  The  Moors  of 
various  places,  dazzled  by  this  gleam  of  success,  hastened  to 
throw  off  their  sworn  allegiance  to  the  Castiliaii  crown,  and  to 
elevate  the  standard  of  Boabdil;  and  the  youthful  monarch 
flattered  himself  that  the  whole  kingdom  was  on  the  point  of 
returning  to  its  allegiance. 

The  fiery  cavaliers  of  Granada  were  eager  to  renew  those 
forays  into  the  Christian  lands,  in  which  they  had  formerly 
delighted.  A  number  of  them  therefore  concerted  an  irruption 
to  the  north,  into  the  territory  of  Jaen,  to  harass  the  country 
ahout  Quezada.  They  had  heard  of  a  rich  convoy  of  merchants 
and  wealthy  travellers,  on  the  way  to  the  city  of  Baza ;  and 
they  anticipated  a  glorious  conclusion  to  their  foray,  in  cap 
turing  this  convoy. 

Assembling  a  number  of  horsemen,  lightly  armed  and  fleetly 


312  TIIE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

mounted,  and  one  hundred  foot-soldiers,  these  hardy  cavaliers 
issued  forth  by  night  from  Granada,  made  their  way  in  silence 
through  the  defiles  of  the  mountains,  crossed  the  frontier  with 
out  opposition,  and  suddenly  appeared,  as  if  fallen  from  the 
clouds,  in  the  very  heart  of  the  Christian  country. 

The  mountainous  frontier  which  separates  Granada  from 
Jaen  was  at  this  time  under  the  command  of  the  count  de 
Tendilla,  the  same  veteran  who  had  distinguished  himself  by 
his  vigilance  and  sagacity  when  commanding  the  fortress  of 
Alhama.  He  held  his  head-quarters  at  the  city  of  Alcala  la 
Real,  in  its  impregnable  fortress,  perched  high  among  the 
mountains,  about  six  leagues  from  Granada,  and  dominating 
all  the  frontier.  From  this  cloud-capt  hold  among  the  rocks, 
he  kept  an  eagle  eye  upon  Granada,  and  had  his  scouts  and 
spies  in  ail  directions,  so  that  a  crow  could  not  fly  over  the 
border  without  his  knowledge.  His  fortress  was-  a  place  of 
refuge  for  the  Christian  captives  who  escaped  by  night  from 
the  Moorish  dungeons  of  Granada.  Often,  however,  they  mis 
sed  their  way  in  the  defiles  of  the  mountains,  and,  wandering 
about  bewildered,  either  repaired  by  mistake  to  some  Moorish 
town,  or  were  discovered  and  retaken  at  daylight  by  the  enemy. 
To  prevent  these  accidents,  the  count  had  a  tower  built  at  his 
own  expense,  on  the  top  of  one  of  the  heights  near  Alcala, 
which  commanded  a  view  of  the  vega  and  the  surrounding 
country.  Here  he  kept  a  light  blazing  throughout  the  night, 
as  a  beacon  for  all  Christian  fugitives,  to  guide  them  to  a  place 
of  safety. 

The  count  was  aroused  one  night  from  his  repose,  by  shouts 
and  cries,  which  came  up  from  the  town  and  approached  the 
castle  walls.  "To  arms!  to  arms!  the  Moor  is  over  the  bor 
der  !"  was  the  cry.  A  Christian  soldier,  pale  and  emaciated, 
and  who  still  bore  traces  of  the  Moorish  chains,  was  brought 
before  the  count.  He  had  been  taken  as  guide  by  the  Moorish 
cavaliers  who  had  sallied  from  Granada,  but  had  escaped  from 
them  among  the  mountains,  and,  after  much  wandering,  had 
found  his  way  to  Alcala,  by  the  signal-fire. 

Notwithstanding  the  bustle  and  agitation  of  the  moment,  the 
count  de  Tendilla  listened  calmly  and  attentively  to  the  ac 
count  of  the  fugitive,  and  questioned  him  minutely  as  to  the 
time  of  departure  of  the  Moors,  and  the  rapidity  and  direction 
of  their  march.  He  saw  that  it  was  too  late  to  prevent  their 
incursion  and  ravage ;  but  he  determined  to  await  them,  and 
give  them  a  warm  reception  on  their  return.  His  soldiers 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  313 

were  always  on  the  alert,  and  ready  to  take  the  field  at  a  mo 
ment's  warning.  Choosing  one  hundred  and  fifty  lances, 
hardy  and  valiant  men,  well  disciplined  and  well  seasoned,  as 
indeed  were  all  his  troops,  he  issued  forth  quietly  before  break 
of  day,  and,  descending  through  the  defiles  of  the  mountains, 
stationed  his  little  force  in  ambush,  in  a  deep  barranca,  or 
dry  channel  of  a  torrent,  near  Barzina,  but  three  leagues  from 
Granada,  on  the  road  by  which  the  marauders  would  have  to 
return.  In  the  mean  time,  he  sent  out  scouts,  to  posts  them 
selves  upon  different  heights,  and  look  out  for  the  approach  of 
enemy. 

All  day  they  remained  concealed  in  the  ravine,  and  for  a 
great  part  of  the  following  night ;  not  a  turban,  however,  was 
to  be  seen,  excepting  now  and  then  a  peasant  returning  from 
his  labor,  or  a  solitary  muleteer  hastening  towards  Granada. 
The  cavaliers  of  the  count  began  to  grow  restless  and  impatient ; 
they  feared  that  the  enemy  might  have  taken  some  other  route, 
or  might  have  received  intelligence  of  their  ambuscade.  They 
urged  the  count  to  abandon  the  enterprise,  and  return  to  Alcala. 
"  We  are  here,"  said  they,  "  almost  at  the  gates  of  the  Moorish 
capital;  our  movements  may  have  been  descried,  and,  before 
we  are  aware,  Granada  may  pour  forth  its  legions  of  swift 
cavalry,  and  crush  us  with  an  overwhelming  force."  The 
count  de  Tendilla,  however,  persisted  in  remaining  until  his 
scouts  should  come  in.  About  two  hours  before  daybreak, 
there  were  signal-fires  on  certain  Moorish  watch-towers  of  the 
mountains.  While  they  were  regarding  these  with  anxiety, 
the  scouts  came  hurrying  into  the  ravine:  "The  Moors  are 
approaching,"  said  they;  "  we  have  reconnoitred  them  near  at 
hand.  They  are  between  one  and  two  hundred  strong,  but 
encumbered  with  many  prisoners  and  much  booty."  The 
Christian  cavaliers  laid  their  ears  to  the  ground,  and  heard  the 
distant  tramp  of  horses  and  the  tread  of  foot-soldiers.  They 
mounted  their  horses,  braced  their  shields,  couched  their 
lances,  and  drew  near  to  the  entrance  of  the  ravine  where  it 
opened  upon  the  road. 

The  Moors  had  succeeded  in  waylaying  and  surprising  the 
Christian  convoy,  on  its  way  to  Baza.  They  had  captured  a 
great  number  of  prisoners,  male  and  female,  with  great  store 
of  gold  and  jewels,  and  sumpter  mules  laden  with  rich  mer 
chandise.  With  these  they  had  made  a  forced  march  over  the 
dangerous  parts  of  the  mountains ;  but  now,  finding  themselves 
so  near  to  Granada,  they  fancied  themselves  in  perfect  security, 


314  THE  CONQUEST  OF  Gil  AX  AD  A. 

They  loitered  along  the  road,  therefore,  irregularly  and  slowly, 
some  singing,  others  laughing  and  exulting  at  having  eluded 
the  boasted  vigilance  of  the  count  de  Tendilla ;  while  ever  and 
anon  were  heard  the  plaint  of  some  female  captive  bewailing 
the  jeopardy  of  her  honor ;  and  the  heavy  sighing  of  the  mer 
chant  at  beholding  his  property  in  the  grasp  of  ruthless  spoilers. 

The  count  de  Tendilla  waited  until  some  of  the  escort  had 
passed  the  ravine ;  then,  giving  the  signal  for  assault,  his  cav 
aliers  set  up  great  shouts  and  cries,  and  charged  furiously  into 
the  centre  of  the  foe.  The  obscurity  of  the  place  and  the  hour 
added  to  the  terrors  of  the  surprise.  The  Moors  were  thrown 
into  confusion ;  some  rallied,  fought  desperately,  and  fell  cov 
ered  with  wounds.  Thirty-six  were  killed,  and  fifty-five  were 
made  prisoners;  the  rest,  under  cover  of  the  darkness,  made 
their  escape  to  the  rocks  and  defiles  of  the  mountains. 

The  good  count  unbound  the  prisoners,  gladdening  the  hearts 
of  the  merchants  by  restoring  to  them  their  merchandise. 
To  the  female  captives  also  he  restored  the  jewels  of  which 
they  had  been  despoiled,  excepting  such  as  had  been  lost  be 
yond  recovery.  Forty-five  saddle  horses,  of  the  choice  Bar- 
bary  breed,  remained  as  captured  spoils  of  the  Moors,  together 
with  costly  armor,  and  booty  of  various  kinds.  Having  collec 
ted  every  thing  in  haste,  and  arranged  his  cavalgada,  the 
count  urged  his  way  with  all  speed  for  Alca  la  Real,  lest  he 
should  be  pursued  and  overtaken  by  the  Moors  of  Granada. 
As  hie  wound  up  the  steep  ascent  to  his  mountain  city,  the 
inhabitants  poured  forth  to  meet  him  with  shouts  of  joy.  His 
triumph  was  doubly  enhanced  by  being  received  at  the  gates 
of  the  city  by  his  wife,  the  daughter  of  the  marques  of  Vil- 
lena,  a  lady  of  distinguished  merit,  whom  he  had  not  seen  for 
two  years,  that  he  had  been  separated  from  his  home  by  the 
arduous  duties  of  these  iron  wars. 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

EXPEDITION  OF  BOABDIL  EL  CHICO  AGAINST  SALOBRENA — EX 
PLOIT   OF  HERNANDO  PEREZ  DEL  PULGAR. 

KING  BOABDIL  found  that  his  diminished  territory  was  too 
closely  dominated  by  Christian  fortresses  like  Alcala  la  Real, 
too  strictly  watched  by  vigilant  alcayto  like  the  count  of. 


THE   CONQUEST  OP  GRANADA.  315 

Tendilla,  to  be  able  to  maintain  itself  by  internal  resources. 
His  foraging  expeditions  were  liable  to  be  intercepted  and 
defeated,  while  the  ravage  of  the  vega  had  swept  off  every 
thing  on  which  the  city  depended  for  future  sustenance.  He 
felt  the  want  of  a  sea-port,  through  which,  as  formerly,  he 
might  keep  open  a  communication  with  Africa,  and  obtain 
reinforcements  and  supplies  from  beyond  the  sea.  All  the 
ports  and  harbors  were  in  the  hands  of  the  Christians,  and 
Granada  and  its  remnant  of  dependent  territory  were  com 
pletely  landlocked. 

In  this  emergency,  the  attention  of  Boabdil  was  called  by 
circumstances  to  the  sea-port  of  Salobreiia.  This  redoubtable 
town  has  already  been  mentioned  in  this  chronicle,  as  a  place 
deemed  impregnable  by  the  Moors ;  insomuch  that  their  kings 
were  accustomed,  in  time  of  peril,  to  keep  their  treasures  in  its 
citadel.  It  was  situated  on  a  rocky  hill,  dividing  one  of  those 
rich  little  vegas  or  plains  which  lie  open  to  the  Mediterranean, 
but  run  like  deep  green  bays  into  the  stern  bosoms  of  the  moun 
tains.  The  vega  was  covered  with  beautiful  vegetation,  with 
rice  and  cotton,  with  groves  of  oranges,  citrons,  figs  and  mul 
berries,  and  with  gardens  enclosed  by  hedges  of  reeds,  of  aloes 
and  the  Indian  fig.  Running  streams  of  cool  water  from  the 
springs  and  snows  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  kept  this  delightful 
valley  continually  fresh  and  verdant;  while  it  was  almost 
locked  up  by  mountain  barriers,  and  lofty  promontories  that 
stretched  far  into  the  sea. 

Through  the  centre  of  this  rich  vega,  the  rock  of  Salobrena 
reared  its  rugged  back,  nearly  dividing  the  plain,  and  advanc 
ing  to  the  margin  of  the  sea,  with  just  a  strip  of  sandy  beach 
at  its  foot,  laved  by  the  blue  waves  of  the  Mediterranean. 

The  town  covered  the  ridge  and  sides  of  the  rocky  hill,  and 
was  fortified  by  strong  walls  and  towers ;  while  on  the  highest 
and  most  precipitous  part  stood  the  citadel,  a  huge  castle  that 
seemed  to  form  a  part  of  the  living  rock ;  the  massive  ruins  of 
which,  at  the  present  day,  attract  the  gaze  of  the  traveller,  as 
he  winds  his  way  far  below,  along  the  road  which  passes 
through  the  vega. 

This  important  fortress  had  been  intrusted  to  the  command 
of  Don  Francisco  Eamirez  de  Madrid,  captain-general  of  the 
artillery,  and  the  most  scientific  of  all  the  Spanish  leaders. 
That  experienced  veteran,  however,  was  with  the  king  at  Cor 
dova,  having  left  a  valiant  cavalier  as  alcayde  of  the  place. 

Boabdil  el  Chico  had  full  information  of  the  state  of  the  gar* 


316  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

rison  and  the  absence  of  its  commander.  Putting  himself  at 
the  head  of  a  powerful  force,  therefore,  he  departed  from  Gra 
nada,  and  made  a  rapid  march  through  the  mountains ;  hop 
ing,  by  this  sudden  move,  to  seize  upon  Salobrena  before  king 
Ferdinand  could  come  to  its  assistance. 

The  inhabitants  of  Salobrena  were  Mudexares,  or  Moors  who 
had  sworn  allegiance  to  the  Christians.  Still,  when  they  heard 
the  sound  of  the  Moorish  drums  and  trumpets,  and  beheld  the 
squadrons  of  their  countrymen  advancing  across  the  vega, 
their  hearts  yearned  towards  the  standard  of  their  nation  and 
their  faith.  A  tumult  arose  in  the  place ;  the  populace  shouted 
the  name  of  Boabdil  el  Chico,  and,  throwing  open  the  gates, 
admitted  him  within  the  walls. 

The  Christian  garrison  was  too  few  in  number  to  contend 
for  the  possession  of  the  town ;  they  retreated  to  the  citadel, 
and  shut  themselves  within  its  massive  walls,  which  were  con 
sidered  impregnable.  Here  they  maintained  a  desperate 
defence,  hoping  to  hold  out  until  succor  should  arrive  from  the 
neighboring  fortresses. 

The  tidings  that  Salobrena  was  invested  by  the  Moorish 
king,  spread  along  the  sea-coast,  and  filled  the  Christians  with 
alarm.  Don  Francisco  Enriquez,  uncle  of  the  king,  com 
manded  the  city  of  Velez  Malaga,  about  twelve  leagues  distant, 
but  separated  by  ranges  of  those  vast  rocky  mountains  which 
are  piled  along  the  Mediterranean,  and  tower  in  steep  promon 
tories  and  precipices  above  its  waves. 

Don  Francisco  summoned  the  alcaydes  of  his  district  to  has 
ten  with  him  to  the  relief  of  this  important  fortress.  A  number 
of  cavaliers  and  their  retainers  answered  to  his  call,  among 
whom  was  Fernando  Perez  del  Pulgar,  surnamed  "  El  de  las 
Hazanas,"  (he  of  the  exploits,) — the  same  who  had  signalized 
himself  in  a  foray,  by  elevating  a  handkerchief  on  a  lance  for  a 
banner,  and  leading  on  his  disheartened  comrades  to  victory. 
As  soon  as  Don  Francisco  beheld  a  little  band  collected  round 
him,  he  set  out  with  all  speed  for  Salobrena.  The  march  was 
rugged  and  severe,  climbing  and  descending  immense  moun 
tains,  and  sometimes  winding  along  the  edge  of  giddy  preci 
pices,  with  the  surges  of  the  sea  raging  far  below.  When  Don 
Francisco  arrived  with  his  followers  at  the  lofty  promontory 
that  stretches  along  one  side  of  the  little  vega  of  Salobrena,  he 
looked  down  with  sorrow  and  anxiety  upon  a  Moorish  army  of 
great  force  encamped  at  the  foot  of  the  fortress,  while  Moorish 
banners,  on  various  parts  of  the  walls,  showed  that  the  town 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  317 

was  already  in  possession  of  the  infidels.  A  solitary  Christian 
standard  alone  floated  on  the  top  of  the  castle-keep,  showing 
that  the  brave  garrison  were  hemmed  up  in  their  rock-built 
citadel. 

Don  Francisco  found  it  impossible,  with  his  small  force,  to 
make  any  impression  on  the  camp  of  the  Moors,  or  to  get  to 
the  relief  of  the  castle.  He  stationed  his  little  band  upon 
a  rocky  height  near  the  sea,  where  they  were  safe  from  the 
assaults  of  the  enemy.  The  sight  of  his  friendly  banner  waving 
in  their  neighborhood  cheered  the  heart  of  the  garrison,  and 
conveyed  to  them  assurance  of  speedy  succor  from  the  king. 

In  the  mean  time,  Fernando  Perez  del  Pulgar,  who  always 
burned  to  distinguish  himself  by  bold  and  striking  exploits,  in 
the  course  of  a  prowling  expedition  along  the  borders  of  the 
Moorish  camp,  remarked  a  postern-gate  of  the  castle,  opening 
upon  the  steep  part  of  the  rocky  hill  which  looked  towards  the 
mountains. 

A  sudden  though  flashed  upon  the  daring  mind  of  Pulgar:— 
"  Who  will  follow  my  banner,"  said  he,  "  and  make  a  dash  for 
yonder  postern?"  A  bold  proposition,  in  time  of  warfare, 
never  wants  for  bold  spirits  to  accept  it.  Seventy  resolute 
men  immediately  stepped  forward.  Pulgar  put  himself  at 
their  head ;  they  cut  their  way  suddenly  through  a  weak  part 
of  the  camp,  fought  their  way  up  to  the  gate,  which  was 
eagerly  thrown  open  to  receive  them ;  and  succeeded  in  mak 
ing  their  way  into  the  fortress,  before  the  alarm  of  their 
attempt  had  spread  through  the  Moorish  army. 

The  garrison  was  roused  to  new  spirit  by  this  unlooked-for 
reinforcement,  and  were  enabled  to  make  a  more  vigorous 
resistance.  The  Moors  had  intelligence,  however,  that  there 
was  a  great  scarcity  of  water  in  the  castle;  and  they  exulted 
in  the  idea  that  this  additional  number  of  warriors  would  soon 
exhaust  the  cisterns,  and  compel  them  to  surrender.  When 
Pulgar  heard  of  this  hope  entertained  by  the  enemy,  he  caused 
a  bucket  of  water  to  be  lowered  from  the  battlements,  and 
threw  a  silver  cup  in  bravado  to  the  Moors. 

The  situation  of  the  garrison,  however,  was  daily  growing 
more  and  more  critical;  they  suffered  greatly  from  thirst, 
while,  to  tantalize  them  in  their  sufferings,  they  beheld  limpid 
streams  winding  in  abundance  through  the  green  plain  below 
them.  They  began  to  fear  that  all  succor  would  arrive  too 
late,  when  one  day  they  beheld  a  little  squadron  of  vessels  far 
at  sea,  but  standing  towards  the  shore.  There  was  some  doubt 


318  THE  CONQUEST  OF  OltANADA. 

at  first  whether  it  might  not  be  a  hostile  armament  from 
Africa;  but  as  it  approached,  they  descried,  to  their  great  joy, 
the  banner  of  Castile. 

It  was  a  reinforcement,  brought  in  all  haste  by  the  gov 
ernor  of  the  fortress,  Don  Francisco  Ramirez.  The  squadron 
anchored  at  a  steep  rocky  island,  which  rises  from  the  very 
margin  of  the  smooth  sandy  beach,  directly  in  front  of  the 
rock  of  Salobrena,  and  stretches  out  into  the  sea.  On  this 
island  Ramirez  landed  his  men,  and  was  as  strongly  posted  as 
if  in  a  fortress.  His  force  was  too  scanty  to  attempt  a  battle, 
but  he  assisted  to  harass  and  distract  the  besiegers.  When 
ever  king  Boabdil  made  an  attack  upon  the  fortress,  his  camp 
was  assailed  on  one  side  by  the  troops  of  Ramirez,  who  landed 
from  their  island,  and  on  another  by  those  of  Don  Francisco 
Enriquez,  who  swept  down  from  their  rock,  while  Fernando 
del  Pulgar  kept  up  a  fierce  defence,  from  every  tower  and 
battlement  of  the  castle. 

The  attention  of  the  Moorish  king  was  diverted,  also,  for  a 
time,  by  an  ineffectual  attempt  to  relieve  the  little  port  of 
Adra,  which  had  recently  declared  in  his  favor,  but  which  had 
been  recaptured  for  the  Christians  by  Cidi  Yahye  and  his  son 
Alnayar.  Thus  the  unlucky  Boadbil,  bewildered  on  every 
hand,  lost  all  the  advantage  that  he  had  gained  by  his  rapid 
march  from  Granada.  While  he  was  yet  besieging  the  ob 
stinate  citadel,  tidings  were  brought  him  that  king  Ferdinand 
was  in  full  march  with  a  powerful  host,  to  its  assistance. 
There  was  no  time  for  further  delay;  he  made  a  furious  attack 
with  all  his  forces  upon  the  castle,  but  was  again  repulsed  by 
Pulgar  and  his  coadjutors;  when,  abandoning  the  siege  in 
despair,  he  retreated  with  his  army,  lest  king  Ferdinand 
should  get  between  him  and  his  capital.  On  his  way  back  to 
Granada,  however,  he  in  some  sort  consoled  himself  for  his 
late  disappointment,  by  overrunning  a  part  of  the  territories 
and  possessions  lately  assigned  to  his  uncle  El  Zagal,  and  to 
Cidi  Yahye.  He  defeated  their  alcaydes,  destroyed  several  of 
their  fortresses,  burnt  their  villages,  and  leaving  the  country 
behind  him  reeking  and  smoking  with  his  vengeance,  returned 
with  considerable  booty,  to  repose  himself  within  the  walls  of 
the  Alhambra. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  319 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

HOW  KING  FERDINAND    TREATED    THE  PEOPLE    OF    GUADIX— AND 
HOW  EL  ZAGAL  FINISHED  HIS  REGAL  CAREER. 

SCARCELY  had  Boabdil  ensconced  himself  in  his  capital,  when 
king  Ferdinand,  at  the  head  of  seven  thousand  horse  and 
twenty  thousand  foot,  again  appeared  in  the  vega.  He  had 
set  out  in  all  haste  from  Cordova  to  the  relief  of  Salobrena ; 
but,  hearing  on  his  march  that  the  siege  was  raised,  he  turned 
with  his  army  to  make  a  second  ravage  round  the  walls  of 
devoted  Granada.  His  present  forage  lasted  fifteen  days,  in 
the  course  of  which  every  thing  that  had  escaped  his  former 
desolating  visit  was  destroyed,  and  scarce  a  green  thing  or  a 
living  animal  was  left  on  the  face  of  the  land.  The  Moors 
sallied  frequently,  and  fought  desperately,  in  defence  of  their 
fields,  but  the  work  of  destruction  was  accomplished — and 
Granada,  once  the  queen  of  gardens,  was  left  surrounded  by  a 
desert. 

From  hence  Ferdinand  marched  to  crush  a  conspiracy  which 
had  lately  manifested  itself  in  the  cities  of  Guadix,  Baza,  and 
Almeria.  These  recently  conquered  places  had  entered  into 
secret  correspondence  with  king  Boabdil,  inviting  him  to 
march  to  their  gates,  promising  to  rise  upon  the  Christian 
garrisons,  seize  upon  the  citadels,  and  surrender  themselves 
into  his  power.  The  marques  of  Villena  had  received  notice  of 
the  conspiracy,  and  had  suddenly  thrown  himself,  with  a 
large  force,  into  Guadix.  Under  pretence  of  making  a  review 
of  the  inhabitants,  he  made  them  sally  forth  into  the  fields  be 
fore  the  city.  When  the  whole  Moorish  population  capable  of 
bearing  arms  was  thus  without  the  walls,  he  ordered  the  gates 
to  be  closed.  He  then  permitted  them  to  enter,  two  by  two 
and  three  by  three,  and  to  take  forth  their  wives,  children,  and 
effects.  The  houseless  Moors  were  fain  to  make  themselves 
temporary  hovels,  in  the  gardens  and  orchards  about  the  city ; 
they  were  clamorous  in  their  complaints  at  being  thus  ex 
cluded  from  their  homes,  but  were  told  they  must  wait  with 
patience  until  the  charges  against  them  could  be  investigated, 
and  the  pleasure  of  the  king  be  known.* 

*  Zurita,  lib.  20,  c.  85.    Cura  de  los  Palacios,  c.  97. 


320  TUB  CONQUEST  OF  QHANADA. 

When  Ferdinand  arrived  at  Guadix,  he  found  the  unhappy 
Moors  in  their  cabins  among  the  orchards.  They  complained 
bitterly  of  the  deception  that  had  been  practised  among  them, 
and  implored  permission  to  return  to  the  city,  and  live  peace 
ably  in  their  dwellings,  as  had  been  promised  them  in  their 
articles  of  capitulation. 

King  Ferdinand  listened  graciously  to  their  complaints: 
"My  friends,"  said  he,  in  reply,  "I  am  informed  that  there 
has  been  a  conspiracy  among  you  to  kill  my  alcayde  and  gar 
rison,  and  to  take  part  with  my  enemy  the  king  of  Granada. 
I  shall  make  a  thorough  investigation  of  this  conspiracy. 
Those  among  you  who  shall  be  proved  innocent  shall  be  re 
stored  to  their  dwellings,  but  the  guilty  shall  incur  the  penalty 
of  their  offences.  As  I  wish,  however,  to  proceed  with  mercy 
as  well  as  justice,  I  now  give  you  your  choice,  either  to  depart 
at  once  without  further  question,  going  wherever  you  please, 
and  taking  with  you  your  families  and  effects,  under  an  assur 
ance  of  safety ;  or  to  deliver  up  those  who  are  guilty,  not  one 
of  whom,  I  give  you  my  royal  word,  shall  escape  punishment." 

When  the  people  of  Guadix  heard  these  words,  they  com 
muned  among  themselves;  and  as  most  of  them  (says  the 
worthy  Agapida)  were  either  culpable  or  feared  to  be  con 
sidered  so,  they  accepted  the  alternative,  and  departed  sorrow 
fully,  they  and  their  wives  and  their  little  ones.  "Thus,"  in 
the  words  of  that  excellent  and  cotemporary  historian,  Andres 
Bemaldez,  commonly  called  the  curate  of  Los  Palacios — "thus 
did  the  king  deliver  Guadix  from  the  hands  of  the  enemies  of 
our  holy  faith,  after  seven  hundred  and  seventy  years  that  it 
had  been  in  their  possession,  ever  since  the  time  of  Roderick 
the  Goth ;  and  this  was  one  of  the  mysteries  of  our  Lord,  who 
would  not  consent  that  the  city  should  remain  longer  in  the 
power  of  the  Moors:"— a  pious  and  sage  remark,  which  is 
quoted  with  peculiar  approbation  by  the  worthy  Agapida. 

King  Ferdinand  offered  similar  alternatives  to  the  Moors  of 
Baza,  Almeria,  and  other  cities  accused  of  participation  in  this 
conspiracy ;  who  generally  preferred  to  abandon  their  homes, 
rather  than  incur  the  risk  of  an  investigation.  Most  of  them 
relinquished  Spain,  as  a  country  where  they  could  no  longer 
live  in  security  and  independence,  and  departed  with  their 
families  for  Africa ;  such  as  remained  were  suffered  to  live  in 
villages  and  hamlets,  and  other  unwalled  places.* 

*  Garibay,  lib.  13,  cap.  39.    Pulgar,  part  3,  cap.  132. 


THE  COXQUEtiT  OF  GRANADA.  321 

While  Ferdinand  was  thus  occupied  at  Guadix,  dispensing 
justice  and  mercy,  and  receiving  cities  in  exchange,  the  old 
monarch  Muley  Abdalla,  surnamed  El  Zagal,  appeared  before 
him.  He  was  haggard  with  care,  and  almost  crazed  with  pas 
sion.  He  had  found  his  little  territory  of  Andarax,  and  his 
two  thousand  subjects,  as  difficult  to  govern  as  had  been  the 
distracted  kingdom  of  Granada.  The  charm,  which  had 
bound  the  Moors  to  him,  was  broken  when  he  appeared  in 
arms  under  the  banner  of  Ferdinand.  He  had  returned  from 
his  inglorious  campaign  with  his  petty  army  of  two  hundred 
men,  followed  by  the  execrations  of  the  people  of  Granada, 
and  the  secret  repining  of  those  he  had  led  into  the  field.  No 
sooner  had  his  subjects  heard  of  the  successes  of  Boabdil  el 
Chico,  than  they  had  siezed  their  arms,  assembled  tumultu- 
ously,  declared  for  the  young  monarch,  and  threatened  the  life 
of  El  Zagal.*  The  unfortunate  old  king  had  with  difficulty 
evaded  their  fury ;  and  this  last  lesson  seemed  entirely  to  have 
cured  him  of  his  passion  for  sovereignty.  He  now  entreated 
Ferdinand  to  purchase  the  towns  and  castles  and  other  posses 
sions  which  \iad  been  granted  to  him ;  offering  them  at  a  low 
rate,  and  begging  safe  passage  for  himself  and  his  followers  to 
Africa.  King  Ferdinand  graciously  complied  with  his  wishes. 
He  purchased  of  him  three-and-twenty  towns  and  villages  in 
the  valleys  of  Andarax  and  Alhaurin,  for  which  he  gave  him 
five  millions  of  maravedies.  El  Zagal  relinquished  his  right  to 
one  half  of  the  salinas  or  salt-pits  of  Maleha,  in  favor  of  his 
brother-in-law  Cidi  Yahye.  Having  thus  disposed  of  his  petty 
empire  and  possessions,  he  packed  up  all  his  treasure,  of  which 
he  had  a  great  amount,  and,  followed  by  many  Moorish  fam 
ilies,  passed  over  to  Africa,  f 

And  here  let  us  cast  an  eye  beyond  the  present  period  of  our 
chronicle,  and  trace  the  remaining  career  of  El  Zagal.  His 
short  and  turbulent  reign,  and  disastrous  end,  would  afford  a 
wholesome  lesson  to  unprincipled  ambition,  were  not  all  ambi 
tion  of  the  kind  fated. to  be  blind  to  precept  and  example. 
When  he  arrived  in  Africa,  instead  of  meeting  with  kindness 
and  sympathy,  he  was  seized  and  thrown  into  prison  by  the 
king  of  Fez,  as  though  he  had  been  his  vassal.  He  was  ac 
cused  of  being  the  cause  of  the  dissensions  and  downfall  of  the 
kingdom  of  Granada ;  and  the  accusation  being  proved  to  the 
satisfaction  of  the  king  of  Fez,  he  condemned  the  unhappy  El 

*  Cura  de  los  Palacios,  cap,  9T,  t  Conde,  part  4,  cap.  41, 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

Zagal  to  perpetual  darkness.  A  basin  of  glowing  copper  was 
passed  before  his  eyes,  which  effectually  destroyed  his  sight. 
His  wealth,  which  had  prabably  been  the  secret  cause  of 
these  cruel  measures,  was  confiscated  and  seized  upon  by  his 
oppressor ;  and  El  Zagal  was  thrust  forth,  blind,  helpless,  and 
destitute,  upon  the  world.  In  this  wretched  condition,  the 
late  Moorish  monarch  groped  his  way  through  the  regions  of 
Tingitania,  until  he  reached  the  city  of  Yelez  de  Gromera.  The 
king  of  Velez  had  formerly  been  his  ally,  and  felt  some  move 
ment  of  compassion  at  his  present  altered  and  abject  state. 
He  gave  him  food  and  raiment,  and  suffered  him  to  remain 
unmolested  in  his  dominions.  Death,  which  so  often  hurries 
off  the  prosperous  and  happy  from  the  midst  of  un tasted 
pleasures,  spares,  on  the  other  hand,  the  miserable,  to  drain 
the  last  drop  of  his  cup  of  bitterness.  El  Zagal  dragged  out  a 
wretched  existence  of  many  years,  in  the  city  of  Velez.  He 
wandered  about  blind  and  disconsolate,  an  object  of  mingled 
scorn  and  pity,  and  bearing  above  his  raiment  a  parchment, 
on  which  was  written  in  Arabic,  "This  is  the  unfortunate 
king  of  Andalusia."  * 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

PREPARATIONS  OF  GRANADA  FOR  A  DESPERATE  DEFENCE. 

How  is  thy  strength  departed,  oh  Granada?  how  is  thy 
beauty  withered  and  despoiled,  oh  city  of  groves  and  foun 
tains  !  The  commerce  that  once  thronged  thy  streets  is  at  an 
end;  the  merchant  no  longer  hastens  to  thy  gates,  with  the 
luxuries  of  foreign  lands.  The  cities  which  once  paid  thee  tri 
bute  are  wrested  from  thy  sway  ;  the  chivalry  which  filled  thy 
Vivarrambla  with  the  sumptuous  pageantry  of  war,  have 
fallen  in  many  battles.  The  Alhambra  still  rears  its  ruddy 
towers  from  the  midst  of  groves,  but  melancholy  reigns  in  its 
marble  halls;  and  the  monarch  looks  down  from  his  lofty 
balconies  upon  a  naked  waste,  where  once  had  extended  the 
blooming  glories  of  the  vega  ! 

Such  is  the  lament  of  the  Moorish  writers,  over  the  lament- 


*  Marmol,  4e  Rebelione  Maur.  lib.  1,  cap.  16.    Padraza,  Hist,  Gmnat,  part  8,  Q,  4, 
Hist,  4e  OWsp&dog  de  0ua.aix  7  Paza,  cap,  1Q. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  OR  AN  AD  A.  328 

able  state  of  Granada,  which  now  remained  a  mere  phantom 
of  its  former  greatness.  The  two  ravages  of  the  vega,  follow 
ing  so  closely  upon  each  other,  had  swept  off  all  the  produce 
of  the  year ;  and  the  husbandman  had  no  longer  the  heart  to 
till  the  field,  seeing  that  the  ripening  harvest  only  brought  the 
spoiler  to  the  door. 

During  the  winter  season,  king  Ferdinand  made  diligent 
preparations  for  the  last  campaign,  that  was  to  decide  the 
fate  of  Granada.  As  this  war  was  waged  purely  for  the  pro 
motion  of  the  Christian  faith,  he  thought  it  meet  that  its 
enemies  should  bear  the  expenses.  He  levied,  therefore,  a 
general  contribution  upon  all  the  Jews  throughout  his  king 
dom,  by  synagogues  and  districts ;  and  obliged  them  to  render 
in  the  proceeds,  at  the  city  of  Seville.* 

On  the  llth  of  April,  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  departed  for 
the  Moorish  frontier,  with  the  solemn  determination  to  lay 
close  siege  to  Granada,  and  never  to  quit  its  walls  until  they 
had  planted  the  standard  of  the  faith  on  the  towers  of  the 
Alhambra.  Many  of  the  nobles  of  the  kingdom,  particularly 
those  from  the  parts  remote  from  the  scene  of  action,  wearied 
by  the  toils  of  war,  and  foreseeing  that  this  would  be  a  tedious 
siege,  requiring  patience  and  vigilance  rather  than  hardy 
deeds  of  arms,  contented  themselves  with  sending  their 
vassals,  while  they  staid  at  home,  to  attend  to  their  domains. 
Many  cities  furnished  soldiers  at  their  cost,  and  the  king  took 
the  field  with  an  army  of  forty  thousand  infantry  and  ten 
thousand  horse.  The  principal  captains  who  followed  the 
king  in  this  campaign,  were  Roderigo  Ponce  de  Leon,  the 
marques  of  Cadiz,  the  Master  of  Santiago,  the  marques  of 
Villena ;  the  counts  of  Tendilla,  Cifuentes,  Cabra,  and  Urena ; 
and  Don  Alonzo  de  Aguilar. 

Queen  Isabella,  accompanied  by  her  son  the  Prince  Juan, 
and  by  the  princesses  Juana,  Maria,  and  Cathalina,  her 
daughters,  proceeded  to  Alcala  la  Real,  the  mountain  fortress 
and  strong-hold  of  the  count  de  Tendilla.  Here  she  remained, 
to  forward  supplies  to  the  army,  and  to  be  ready  to  repair  to 
the  camp,  whenever  her  presence  might  be  required. 

The  army  of  Ferdinand  poured  into  the  vega,  by  various 
defiles  of  the  mountains;  and  on  the  23d  of  April,  the  royal 
tent  was  pitched  at  a  village  called  Los  Ojos  de  Huescar, 
about  a  league  and  a  half  from  Granada.  At  the  approach  of 

*  Garibay,  lib.  18,  c.  39. 


304  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

this  formidable  force,  the  harassed  inhabitants  turned  pale' 
and  even  many  of  the  warriors  trembled ;  for  they  felt  that  tho 
last  desperate  struggle  was  at  hand. 

Boabdil  el  Chico  assembled  his  council  in  the  Alhambra, 
from  the  windows  of  which  they  could  behold  the  Christian 
squadrons  glistening  through  clouds  of  dust,  as  they  poured 
along  the  vega.  The  utmost  confusion  and  consternation 
reigned  in  the  council.  Many  of  the  members,  terrified  with 
the  horrors  impending  over  their  families,  advised  Boabdil  to 
throw  himself  upon  the  generosity  of  the  Christian  monarch  : 
even  several  of  the  bravest  suggested  the  possibility  of  obtain 
ing  honorable  terms. 

The  Wazir  of  the  city,  Abul  Casim  Abdel  Melic,  was  called 
upon  to  report  the  state  of  the  public  means  for  sustenance  and 
defence.  There  were  sufficient  provisions,  he  said,  for  a  few 
months'  supply,  independent  of  what  might  exist  in  the  posses 
sion  of  merchants  and  other  rich  inhabitants.  "  But  of  what 
avail,"  said  he,  "is  a  supply  for  a  few  months,  against  the 
sieges ^f  the  Castilian  monarch,  which  are  interminable?" 

He  produced,  also,  the  lists  of  men  capable  of  bearing  arms. 
"The  number,  "said  he,  "is  great;  but  what  can  be  expected 
from  mere  citizen  soldiers?  They  vaunt  and  menace,  in  time 
of  safety;  none  are  so  arrogant,  when  the  enemy  is  at  a  dis 
tance—but  when  the  din  of  war  thunders  at  their  gates,  they 
hide  themselves  in  terror." 

When  Muza  heard  these  words,  he  rose  with  generous 
warmth:  "  What  reason  have  we,"  said  he,  "  to  despair?  The 
blood  of  those  illustrious  Moors,  the  conquerors  of  Spain,  still 
flows  in  our  veins.  Let  us  be  true  to  ourselves,  and  fortune 
will  again  be  with  us.  We  have  a  veteran  force,  both  horse 
and  foot,  the  flower  of  our  chivalry,  seasoned  in  war  and 
scarred  in  a  thousand  battles.  As  to  the  multitude  of  our 
citizens,  spoken  of  so  slightly,  why  should  we  doubt  their 
valor?  There  are  twenty  thousand  young  men,  in  the  fire  of 
youth,  for  whom  I  will  engage,  that  in  the  defence  of  their 
homes  they  will  rival  the  most  valiant  veterans.  Do  we  want 
provisions?  Our  horses  are  fleet,  and  our  horsemen  daring  in 
the  foray.  Let  them  scour  and  scourge  the  country  of  those 
apostate  Moslems  who  have  surrendered  to  the  Christians. 
Let  them  make  inroads  into  the  lands  of  our  enemies.  We 
shall  soon  see  them  returning  with  cavalgadas  to  our  gates ; 
and,  to  a  soldier,  there  is  no  morsel  so  sweet  as  that  wrested 
with  hard  fighting  from  the  foe. " 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  825 

Boabdil  el  Chico,  though  he  wanted  firm  and  durable 
courage,  was  readily  excited  to  sudden  emotions  of  bravery. 
He  caught  a  glow  of  resolution  from  the  noble  ardor  of  Muza. 
" Do  what  is  needful,"  said  he  to  his  commanders;  "into  your 
hands  I  confide  the  common  safety.  You  are  the  protectors  of 
the  kingdom,  and,  with  the  aid  of  Allah,  will  revenge  the  in 
sults  of  our  religion,  the  deaths  of  our  friends  and  relations, 
and  the  sorrows  and  sufferings  heaped  upon  our  land."* 

To  every  one  was  now  assigned  his  separate  duty.  The 
wazir  had  charge  of  the  arms,  and  provisions,  and  the  enroll 
ing  of  the  people.  Muza  was  to  command  the  cavalry,  to 
defend  the  gates,  and  to  take  the  lead  in  all  sallies  and  skir 
mishes  Nairn  Reduan,  and  Muhamed  Aben  Zayde,  were  his  ad 
jutants,  Abdel  Kerim  Zegri,  and  the  other  captains,  were  to 
guard  the  walls;  and  the  alcaydes  cf  the  Alcazaba,  and  of 
the  Red  Towers,  had  command  of  the  fortresses. 

Nothing  now  was  heard  but  the  din  of  arms,  and  the  bustle 
of  preparation.  The  Moorish  spirit,  quick  to  catch  fire,  was 
immediately  in  a  flame ;  and  the  populace,  in  the  excitement 
of  the  moment,  set  at  nought  the  power  of  the  Christians. 
Muza  was  in  all  parts  of  the  city,  infusing  his  own  generous 
zeal  into  the  bosoms  of  the  soldiery.  The  young  cavaliers 
rallied  round  him  as  their  model;  the  veteran  warriors  re 
garded  him  with  a  soldier's  admiration;  the  vulgar  throng 
followed  him  with  shouts,  and  the  helpless  part  of  the  inhabi 
tants,  the  old  men  and  the  women,  hailed  him  with  blessings 
as  their  protector. 

On  the  first  appearance  of  the  Christian  army,  the  principal 
gates  of  the  city  had  been  closed,  and  secured  with  bars  and 
bolts  and  heavy  chains :  Muza  now  ordered  them  to  be  thrown 
open;  "To  me  and  my  cavaliers,"  said  he,  "is  intrusted  the 
defence  of  the  gates ;  our  bodies  shall  be  their  barriers. "  He 
stationed  at  each  gate  a  strong  guard,  chosen  from  his  bravest 
men.  His  horsemen  were  always  completely  armed,  and 
ready  to  mount  at  a  moment's  warning :  their  steeds  stood 
saddled  and  caparisoned  in  the  stables,  with  lance  and  buckler 
beside  them.  On  the  least  approach  of  the  enemy,  a  squadron 
of  horsemen  gathered  within  the  gate,  ready  to  lanch  forth 
like  the  bolt  from  the  thunder-cloud.  Muza  made  no  empty 
bravado  nor  haughty  threat;  he  was  more  terrible  in  deeds 
than  in  words,  and  executed  daring  exploits,  beyond  even  the 

*  Conde, 


326  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

vaunt  of  the  vainglorious.  Such  was  the  present  champion  of 
the  Moors.  Had  they  possessed  many  such  warriors,  or  had 
Muza  risen  to  power  at  an  earlier  period  of  the  war,  the  fate 
of  Granada  might  have  been  deferred,  and  the  Moor  for  a  long 
time  have  maintained  his  throne  within  the  walls  of  the 
Alhambra. 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 

HOW  KING  FERDINAND  CONDUCTED  THE  SIEGE  CAUTIOUSLY;   AND 
HOW  QUEEN  ISABELLA  ARRIVED  AT  THE   CAMP. 

THOUGH  Granada  was  shorn  of  its  glories,  and  nearly  cut  off 
from  all  external  aid,  still  its  mighty  castles  and  massive  bul 
warks  seemed  to  set  all  attacks  at  defiance.  Being  the  last 
retreat  of  Moorish  power,  it  had  assembled  within  its  walls  the 
remnants  of  the  armies  that  had  contended,  step  by  step,  with 
the  invaders,  in  their  gradual  conquest  of  the  land.  All  that 
remained  of  high-born  and  high-bred  chivalry,  was  here;  all 
that  was  loyal  and  patriotic  was  roused  to  activity  by  the 
common  danger;  and  Granada,  that  had  so  long  been  lulled 
into  inaction  by  vain  hopes  of  security,  now  assumed  a  for 
midable  aspect  in  the  hour  of  its  despair. 

Ferdinand  saw  that  any  attempt  to  subdue  the  city  by  main 
force,  would  be  perilous  and  bloody.  Cautious  in  his  policy, 
and  fond  of  conquests  gained  by  art  rather  than  valor,  he 
resorted  to  the  plan  which  had  been  so  successful  with  Baza, 
and  determined  to  reduce  the  place  by  famine.  For  this  pm\ 
pose,  his  armies  penetrated  into  the  very  heart  of  the  AL 
puxarras,  and  ravaged  the  valleys,  and  sacked  and  burnt  the 
towns,  upon  which  the  city  depended  for  its  supplies.  Scout 
ing  parties,  also,  ranged  the  mountains  behind  Granada,  and 
captured  every  casual  convoy  of  provisions.  The  Moore 
became  more  daring,  as  their  situation  became  more  hopeless. 
Never  had  Ferdinand  experienced  such  vigorous  sallies  and 
assaults.  Muza,  at  the  head  of  his  cavalry,  harassed  the 
borders  of  the  camp,  and  even  penetrated  into  the  interior, 
making  sudden  spoil  and  ravage,  and  leaving  his  course  to  be 
traced  by  the  slain  and  wounded.  To  protect  his  camp  from 
those  assaults,  Ferdinand  fortified  it  with  deep  trenches 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  327 

strong  bulwarks.  It  was  of  a  quadrangular  form,  divided  into 
streets  like  a  city,  the  troops  being  quartered  in  tents,  and  in 
booths  constructed  of  bushes  and  branches  of  trees.  When  it 
was  completed,  queen  Isabella  came  in  state,  with  all  her 
court,  and  the  prince  and  princesses,  to  be  present  at  the 
siege.  This  was  intended,  as  on  former  occasions,  to  reduce 
the  besieged  to  despair,  by  showing  the  determination  of  the 
sovereigns  to  reside  in  the  camp  until  the  city  should  surren 
der.  Immediately  after  her  arrival,  the  queen  rode  forth  to 
survey  the  camp  and  its  environs :  wherever  she  went,  she  was 
attended  by  a  splendid  retinue ;  and  all  the  commanders  vied 
with  each  other,  in  the  pomp  and  ceremony  with  which  they 
received  her.  Nothing  was  heard,  from  morning  until  night, 
but  shouts  and  acclamations,  and  bursts  of  martial  music ;  so 
that  it  appeared  to  the  Moors  as  if  a  continual  festival  and 
triumph  reigned  in  the  Christian  camp. 

The  arrival  of  the  queen,  however,  and  the  menaced  obstin 
acy  of  the  siege,  had  no  effect  in  damping  the  fire  of  the  Moor 
ish  chivalry.  Muza  inspired  the  youthful  warriors  with  the 
most  devoted  heroism:  "  We  have  nothing  left  to  fight  for,v 
said  he,  ' '  but  the  ground  we  stand  on ;  when  this  is  lost,  we 
cease  to  have  a  country  and  a  name." 

Finding  the  Christian  king  forbore  to  make  an  attack,  Muza 
incited  his  cavaliers  to  challenge  the  youthful  chivalry  of  the 
Christian  army  to  single  combat,  or  partial  skirmishes.  Scarce 
a  day  passed  without  gallant  conflicts  of  the  kind,  in  sight  of 
the  city  and  the  camp.  The  combatants  rivalled  each  other  in 
the  splendor  of  their  armor  and  array,  as  well  as  in  the  prow 
ess  of  their  deeds.  Their  contests  were  more  like  the  stately 
ceremonials  of  tilts  and  tournaments,  than  the  rude  conflicts 
of  the  field.  Ferdinand  soon  perceived  that  they  animated  th« 
fiery  Moors  with  fresh  zeal  and  courage,  while  they  cost  the 
lives  of  many  of  his  bravest  cavaliers:  he  again,  therefore, 
forbade  the  acceptance  of  any  individual  challenges,  and 
ordered  that  all  partial  encounters  should  be  avoided,  The 
cool  and  stern  policy  of  the  Catholic  sovereign  bore  hard  upon 
the  generous  spirits  of  either  army,  but  roused  the  indignation 
of  the  Moors,  when  they  found  that  they  were  to  be  subdued 
in  this  inglorious  manner:  "Of  what  avail,"  said  they,  "are 
chivalry  and  heroic  valor?  the  crafty  monarch  of  the  Chris 
tians  has  no  magnanimity  in  warfare ;  he  seeks  to  subdue  us 
through  the  weakness  of  our  bodies,  but  shuns  to  encounter 
the  courage  of  our  souls," 


328  THE  COXQUM8T  OF  GRANADA. 


CHAPTER  XLVII. 

OP  THE  INSOLENT  DEFIANCE  OF  YARFE  THE  MOOR,  AND  THE 
DARING  EXPLOIT  OF  HERNAMDO  PEREZ  DEL  PULGAR. 

WHEN  the  Moorish  knights  beheld  that  all  courteous  chal 
lenges  were  unavailing,  they  sought  various  means  to  provoke 
the  Christian  warriors  to  the  field.  Sometimes  a  body  of 
them,  fleetly  mounted,  would  gallop  up  to  the  skirts  of  the 
camp,  and  try  who  should  hurl  his  lance  farthest  within  the 
barriers,  having  his  name  inscribed  upon  it,  or  a  label  affixed 
to  it,  containing  some  taunting  defiance.  These  bravadoes 
caused  great  irritation,  but  still  the  Spanish  warriors  were 
restrained  by  the  prohibition  of  the  king. 

Among  the  Moorish  cavaliers  was  one  named  Yarfe,  re 
nowned  for  his  great  strength  and  daring  spirit ;  but  whose 
courage  partook  of  fierce  audacity,  rather  than  chivalric  hero 
ism.  In  one  of  these  sallies,  when  they  were  skirting  the 
Christian  camp,  this  arrogant  Moor  outstripped  his  compan 
ions,  overleaped  the  barriers,  and,  galloping  close  to  the  royal 
quarters,  launched  his  lance  so  far  within,  that  it  remained 
quivering  in  the  earth  close  by  the  pavilions  of  the  sovereigns. 
The  royal  guards  rushed  forth  in  pursuit,  but  the  Moorish 
horsemen  were  already  beyond  the  camp,  and  scouring  in  a 
cloud  of  dust  for  the  city.  Upon  wresting  the  lance  from  the 
earth,  a  label  was  found  upon  it,  importing  that  it  was  in 
tended  for  the  queen. 

Nothing  could  equal  the  indignation  of  the  Christian  war  - 
riors,  at  the  insolence  of  the  bravado,  and  the  discourteous 
insult  offered  to  the  queen.  Hernando  Perez  del  Palgar,  sur- 
named  "he  of  the  exploits,"  was  present,  and  resolved  not  to 
be  outbraved  by  this  daring  infidel:  "Who  will  stand  by  me," 
said  he,  "  in  an  enterprise  of  desperate  peril?"  The  Christian 
cavaliers  well  knew  the  harebrained  valor  of  Hernando  del 
Pulgar,  yet  not  one  hesitated  to  step  forward.  He  chose 
fifteen  companions,  all  men  of  powerful  arm  and  dauntless 
heart.  In  the  dead  of  the  night,  he  led  them  forth  from  the 
camp,  and  approached  the  city  cautiously,  until  he  arrived  at 
a  postern-gate,  which  opened  upon  the  Darro,  and  was 
guarded  by  foot-soldiers.  The  guards,  little  thinking  of  such 


TllE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  329 

an  unwonted  and  partial  attack,  were  for  the  most  part  asleep. 
The  gate  was  forced,  and  a  confused  and  chance-medley  skir 
mish  ensued :  Hernando  del  Pulgar  stopped  not  to  take  part 
in  the  affray :  putting  spurs  to  his  horse,  he  galloped  furiously 
through  the  streets,  striking  fire  out  of  the  stones  at  every 
bound.  Arrived  at  the  principal  mosque,  he  sprang  from  his 
horse,  and,  kneeling  at  the  portal,  took  possession  of  the  edifice 
as  a  Christian  chapel,  dedicating  it  to  the  blessed  virgin.  In 
testimonial  of  the  ceremony,  he  took  a  tablet  which  he  had 
brought  with  him,  on  which  was  inscribed  in  large  characters, 
"  AVE  MARIA,"  and  nailed  it  to  the  door  of  the  mosque  with  his 
dagger.  This  done,  he  remounted  his  steed,  and  galloped  back 
to  the  gate.  The  alarm  had  been  given— the  city  was  in  an 
uproar — soldiers  were  gathering  from  every  direction.  They 
were  astonished  at  seeing  a  Christian  warrior  galloping  from 
the  interior  of  the  city.  Hernando  del  Pulgar  overturned 
some,  cut  down  others,  rejoined  his  companions,  who  still 
maintained  possession  of  the  gate  by  dint  of  hard  fighting,  and 
all  made  good  their  retreat  to  the  camp.  The  Moors  were  at 
a  loss  to  imagine  the  meaning  of  this  wild  and  apparently 
fruitless  assault;  but  great  was  their  exasperation,  on  the 
following  day,  when  the  trophy  of  hardihood  and  prowess, 
the  "  AVE  MARIA,"  was  discovered  thus  elevated  in  bravado 
in  the  very  centre  of  the  city.  The  mosque  thus  boldly  sancti 
fied  by  Hernando  del  Pulgar  was  actually  consecrated  into  a 
cathedral,  after  the  capture  of  Granada.* 


CHAPTER  XLVIII. 

HOW  QUEEN  ISABELLA  TOOK  A  VIEW  OF  THE  CITY  OF  GRANADA 
—AND  HOW  HER  CURIOSITY  COST  THE  LIVES  OF  MANY  CHRIS 
TIANS  AND  MOORS. 

THE  royal  encampment  lay  at  such  a  distance  from  Gran 
ada,  that  the  general  aspect  of  the  city  only  could  be  seen,  as 

*  In  commemoration  of  this  daring  feat,  the  emperor  Charles  V.,  in  after  years 
conferred  on  Pulgar  and  his  descendants  the  right  of  sepulture  in  that  church,  and 
the  privilege  of  sitting  in  the  choir  during  high  mass.  This  Hernando  Perez  del 
Pulgar  was  a  man  of  letters,  as  well  as  arms,  and  inscribed  to  Charles  V.  a  sum 
mary  of  the  achievements  of  Gonsalvo  of  Cordova,  surnamed  the  great  captain, 
who  had  been  one  of  his  comrades  in  arms.  He  is  often  confounded  with  Hernando 
del  Pulgar,  historian  and  secretary  to  queen  Isabella. — See  note  to  Pulgar's  Chron. 
of  the  Catholic  Sovereigns,  part  3,  c.  iii.  edit,  Valencia,  178& 


330  T1TK  CONQVMRT  OF  GftANAfiA. 

it  rose  gracefully  from  the  vega,  covering  the  sides  of  the  hiQs 
with  palaces  and  towers.  Queen  Isabella  had  expressed  an 
earnest  desire  to  behold,  nearer  at  hand,  a  city  whose  beauty 
was  so  renowned  throughout  the  world ;  and  the  marques  of 
Cadiz,  with  the  accustomed  courtesy,  prepared  a  great  mili 
tary  escort  and  guard,  to  protect  the  queen  and  the  ladies  of 
the  court,  while  they  enjoyed  this  perilous  gratification. 

It  was  on  the  morning  after  the  events  recorded  in  the  pre 
ceding  chapter,  that  a  magnificent  and  powerful  train  issued 
forth  from  the  Christian  camp.  The  advanced  guard  was  com 
posed  of  legions  of  cavalry,  heavily  armed,  that  looked  like 
moving  masses  of  polished  steel.  Then  came  the  king  and 
queen,  with  the  prince  and  princess,  and  the  ladies  of  the 
court,  surrounded  by  the  royal  body-guard,  sumptuously  ar 
rayed,  composed  of  the  sons  of  the  most  illustrious  houses  of 
Spain ;  after  these  was  the  rear-guard,  composed  of  a  powerful 
force  of  horse  and  foot ;  for  the  flower  of  the  army  sallied  forth 
that  day.  The  Moors  gazed  with  fearful  admiration  at  this 
glorious  pageant,  wherein  the  pomp  of  the  court  was  mingled 
with  the  terrors  of  the  camp.  It  moved  along  in  a  radiant 
line,  across  the  vega,  to  the  melodious  thunders  of  martial 
music;  while  banner  and  plume,  and  silken  scarf,  and  rich 
brocade,  gave  a  gay  and  gorgeous  relief  to  the  grim  visage  of 
iron  war,  that  lurked  beneath. 

The  army  moved  towards  the  hamlet  of  Zubia,  built  on  the 
skirts  of  the  mountain  to  the  left  of  Granada,  and  command 
ing  a  view  of  the  Alhambra,  and  the  most  beautiful  quarter  of 
the  city.  As  they  approached  the  hamlet,  the  marques  of  Vil- 
lena,  the  count  Urena,  and  Don  Alonzo  de  Aguilar,  filed  off 
with  their  battalions,  and  were  soon  seen  glittering  along  the 
side  of  the  mountain  above  the  village.  In  the  mean  time,  the 
marques  of  Cadiz,  the  count  de  Tendilla,  the  count  de  Cabra, 
and  Don  Alonzo  Fernandez,  Senior  of  Alcandrete  and  Monte- 
mayor,  drew  up  their  forces  in  battle  array  on  the  plain  below 
the  hamlet,  presenting  a  living  barrier  of  loyal  chivalry  be 
tween  the  sovereigns  and  the  city. 

Thus  securely  guarded,  the  royal  party  alighted,  and,  enter 
ing  one  of  the  houses  of  the  hamlet,  which  had  been  prepared 
for  their  reception,  enjoyed  a  full  view  of  the  city  from  its  ter 
raced  roof.  The  ladies  of  the  court  gazed  with  delight  at  the 
red  towers  of  the  Alhambra,  rising  from  amidst  shady  groves, 
anticipating  the  time  when  the  Catholic  sovereigns  should  bo 
enthroned  within  its  walls,  and  its  courts  shine  with  the  splen- 


THE  COXQUtiST  OF  GRANADA. 

dor  of  Spanish  chivalry.  "The  reverend  prelates  and  holy 
friars,  who  always  surrounded  the  queen,  looked  with  sereae 
satisfaction,"  says  Fray  Antonio  Agapida,  "at  this  modern 
Babylon,  enjoying  the  triumph  that  awaited  them,  when  those 
mosques  and  minarets  should  be  converted  into  churches,  and 
goodly  priests  and  bishops  should  succeed  to  the  infidel  alfa 
quis." 

When  the  Moors  beheld  the  Christians  thus  drawn  forth  in 
full  array  in  the  plain,  they  supposed  it  was  to  offer  them  bat 
tle  ;  and  they  hesitated  not  to  accept  it.  In  a  little  while,  the 
queen  beheld  a  body  of  Moorish  cavalry  pouring  into  the  vega, 
the  riders  managing  their  fleet  and  fiery  steeds  with  admirable 
address.  They  were  richly  armed,  and  clothed  in  the  most 
brilliant  colors,  and  the  caparisons  of  their  steeds  flamed  with 
gold  and  embroidery.  This  was  the  favorite  squadron  of 
Muza,  composed  of  the  flower  of  the  youthful  cavaliers  of 
Granada.  Others  succeeded,  some  heavily  armed,  some  a  la 
ginete  with  lance  and  buckler;  and  lastly  came  the  legions  of 
foot-soldiers,  with  arquebuss  and  cross-bow,  and  spear  and 
scimitar. 

When  the  queen  saw  this  army  issuing  from  the  city,  she 
sent  to  the  marques  of  Cadiz,  and  forbade  any  attack  upon  the 
enemy,  or  the  acceptance  of  any  challenge  to  a  skirmish ;  for 
she  was  loth  that  her  curiosity  should  cost  the  life  of  a  single 
human  being. 

The  marques  promised  to  obey,  though  sorely  against  his 
will ;  and  it  grieved  the  spirit  of  the  Spanish  cavaliers,  to  be 
obliged  to  remain  with  sheathed  swords  while  bearded  by  the 
foe.  The  Moors  could  not  comprehend  the  meaning  of  this 
inaction  of  the  Christians,  after  having  apparently  invited  a 
battle.  They  sallied  several  times  from  their  ranks,  and  ap 
proached  near  enough  to  discharge  their  arrows;  but  the 
Christians  were  immovable.  Many  of  the  Moorish  horsemen 
galloped  close  to  the  Christian  ranks,  brandishing  their  lances 
and  scimitars,  and  defying  various  cavaliers  to  single  combat ; 
but  king  Ferdinand  had  rigorously  prohibited  all  duels  of  the 
kind,  and  they  dared  not  transgress  his  orders  under  his  very 
eye. 

While  this  grim  and  reluctant  tranquillity  prevailed  along 
the  Christian  line,  there  rose  a  mingled  shout  and  sound  of 
laughter  near  the  gate  of  the  city.  A  Moorish  horseman, 
armed  at  all  points,  issued  forth,  followed  by  a  rabble,  who 
drew  back  as  he  approached  the  scene  of  danger.  The  Moor 


332  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

was  more  robust  and  brawny  than  was  common  with  his  coun 
trymen.  His  visor  was  closed ;  he  bore  a  huge  buckler  and  a 
ponderous  lance;  his  scimitar  was  of  a  Damascus  blade,  and 
his  richly  ornamented  dagger  was  wrought  by  an  artificer  of 
Fez.  He  was  known  by  his  device  to  be  Yarfe,  the  most  in 
solent,  yet  valiant,  of  the  Moslem  warriors — the  same  who  had 
hurled  into  the  royal  camp  his  lance,  inscribed  to  the  queen. 
As  he  rode  slowly  along  in  front  of  the  army,  his  very  steed, 
prancing  with  fiery  eye  and  distended  nostrilj  seemed  to 
breathe  defiance  to  the  Christians. 

But  what  were  the  feelings  of  the  Spanish  cavaliers,  when 
they  beheld,  tied  to  the  tail  of  his  steed,  and  dragged  in  the 
dust,  the  very  inscription,  "AvE  MARIA,"  which  Hernando 
Perez  del  Pulgar  had  afiixed  to  the  door  of  the  mosque !  A 
burst  of  horror  and  indignation  broke  forth  from  the  army. 
Hernando  del  Pulgar  was  not  at  hand  to  maintain  his  previous 
achievement ;  but  one  of  his  young  companions  in  arms,  Gar- 
cilasso  de  la  Vega  by  name,  putting  spurs  to  his  horse,  gal 
loped  to  the  hamlet  of  Zubia,  threw  himself  on  his  knees 
before  the  king,  and  besought  permission  to  accept  the  defi 
ance  of  this  insolent  infidel,  and  to  revenge  the  insult  offered 
to  our  blessed  Lady.  The  request  was  too  pious  to  be  refused : 
Garcilasso  remounted  his  steed ;  he  closed  his  helmet,  graced 
by  four  sable  plumes,  grasped  his  buckler  of  Flemish  work 
manship,  and  his  lance  of  matchless  temper,  and  defied  the 
haughty  Moor  in  the  midst  of  his  career.  A  combat  took 
place  in  view  of  the  two  armies  and  of  the  Castilian  court. 
The  Moor  was  powerful  in  wielding  his  weapons,  and  dex 
terous  in  managing  his  steed.  He  was  of  larger  frame  than 
Garcilasso,  and  more  completely  armed;  and  the  Christians 
trembled  for  their  champion.  The  shock  of  their  encounter 
was  dreadful ;  their  lances  were  shivered,  and  sent  up  splinters 
in  the  air.  Garcilasso  was  thrown  back  in  the  saddle— his 
horse  made  a  wide  career,  before  he  could  recover,  gather  up 
the  reins,  and  return  to  the  conflict.  They  now  encountered 
each  other  with  swords.  The  Moor  circled  round  his  opponent, 
as  hawk  circles  whereabout  to  make  a  swoop;  his  Arabian 
steed  obeyed  his  rider,  with  matchless  quickness;  at  every 
attack  of  the  infidel  it  seemed  as  if  the  Christian  knight  must 
sink  beneath  his  flashing  scimitar.  But  if  Garcilasso  were  in 
ferior  to  him  in  power,  he  was  superior  in  agility :  many  of  his 
blows  he  parried ;  others  he  received  upon  his  Flemish  shield, 
which  was  proof  against  the  Damascus  blade-  The  blood 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  333 

streamed  from  numerous  wounds  received  by  either  warrior. 
The  Moor,  seeing  his  antagonist  exhausted,  availed  himself  of 
his  superior  force,  and,  grappling,  endeavored  to  wrest  him 
from  his  saddle.  They  both  fell  to  earth ;  the  Moor  placed  his 
knee  upon  the  breast  of  his  victim,  and,  brandishing  his  dag 
ger,  aimed  a  blow  at  his  throat.  A  cry  of  despair  was  uttered 
by  the  Christian  warriors,  when  suddenly  they  beheld  the 
Moor  rolling  lifeless  in  the  dust.  .  Garcilasso  had  shortened  his 
sword,  and,  as  his  adversary  raised  his  arm  to  strike,  had 
pierced  him  to  the  heart.  ' '  It  was  a  singular  and  miraculous 
victory,"  says  Fray  Antonio  Agapida;  "but  the  Christian 
knight  was  armed  by  the  sacred  nature  of  his  cause,  and  the 
holy  virgin  gave  him  strength,  like  another  David,  to  slay  this 
gigantic  champion  of  the  Gentiles." 

The  laws  of  chivalry  were  observed  throughout  the  combat 
—no  one  interfered  on  either  side.  Garcilasso  now  despoiled 
his  adversary;  then,  rescuing  the  holy  inscription  of  "AvE 
MARIA"  from  its^degrading  situation,  he  elevated  it  on  the 
point  of  his  sword,  and  bore  it  off  as  a  signal  of  triumph, 
amidst  the  rapturous  shouts  of  the  Christian  army. 

The  sun  had  now  reached  the  meridian ;  and  the  hot  blood  of 
the  Moors  was  inflamed  by  its  rays,  and  by  the  sight  of  the 
defeat  of  their  champion.  Muza  ordered  two  pieces  of  ord 
nance  to  open  a  fire  upon  the  Christians.  A  confusion  was 
produced  in  one  part  of  their  ranks :  Muza  called  to  the  chiefs 
of  the  army,  "Let  us  waste  no  more  time  in  empty  challenges 
let  us  charge  upon  the  enemy :  he  who  assaults  has  always  an 
advantage  in  the  combat."  So  saying,  he  rushed  forward,  fol 
lowed  by  a  large  body  of  horse  and  foot,  and  charged  so  furi 
ously  upon  the  advance  guard  of  the  Christians,  that  he  drove 
it  in  upon  the  battalion  of  the  marques  of  Cadiz. 

The  gallant  marques  now  considered  himself  absolved  from 
all  further  obedience  to  the  queen's  commands.  He  gave  the 
signal  to  attack.  "Santiago !"  was  shouted  along  the  line ;  and 
he  pressed  forward  to  the  encounter,  with  his  battalion  of 
twelve  hundred  lances.  The  other  cavaliers  followed  his  ex 
ample,  and  the  battle  instantly  became  general. 

When  the  king  and  queen  beheld  the  armies  thus  rushing  to 
the  combat,  they  threw  themselves  on  their  knees,  and  im 
plored  the  holy  virgin  to  protect  her  faithful  warriors.  The 
prince  and  princess,  the  ladies  of  the  court,  and  the  prelates 
and  friars  who  were  present,  did  the  same ;  and  the  effect  of 
the  prayers  of  these  illustrious  and  saintly  persons,  was  im- 


334  THS  CONQUEST  OP  GEAXAVA. 

mediately  apparent.  The  fierceness  with  which  the  Moors  had 
rushed  to  the  attack  was  suddenly  cooled ;  they  were  bold  and 
adroit  for  a  skirmish,  but  unequal  to  the  veteran  Spaniards  in 
the  open  field.  A  panic  seized  upon  the  foot-soldiers— they 
turned,  and  took  to  flight.  Muza  and  his  cavaliers  in  vain  en 
deavored  to  rally  them.  Some  took  refuge  in  the  mountains-, 
but  the  greater  part  fled  to  the  city,  in  such  confusion  that 
they  overturned  and  trampled  upon  each  other.  The  Chris 
tians  pursued  them  to  the  very  gates.  Upwards  of  two  thou 
sand  were  either  killed,  wounded,  or  taken  prisoners ;  and  the 
two  pieces  of  ordnance  were  brought  off,  as  trophies  of  the  vic 
tory.  Not  a  Christian  lance  but  was  bathed  that  day  in  the 
blood  of  an  infidel.* 

Such  was  the  brief  but  bloody  action,  which  was  known 
among  the  Christian  warriors  by  the  name  of  "the  queen's 
skirmish;'  for  when  the  marques  of  Cadiz  waited  upon  her 
majesty  to  apologize  for  breaking  her  commands,  he  attri 
buted  the  victory  entirely  to  her  presence^  The  queen,  how 
ever,  insisted  that  it  was  all  owing  to  her  troops  being  led  on 
by  so  valiant  a  commander.  Her  majesty  had  not  yet  re 
covered  from  her  agitation  at  beholding  so  terrible  a  scene  of 
bloodshed;  though  certain  veterans  present  pronounced  it  as 
gay  and  gentle  a  skirmish  as  they  had  ever  witnessed. 

To  commemorate  this  victory,  the  queen  afterwards  erected 
a  monastery  in  this  village  of  Zubia,  dedicated  to  St.  Fran 
Cisco,  which  still  exists ;  and  in  its  garden  is  a  laurel,  planted 
by  the  hands  of  her  majesty. f 


*  Cura  de  los  Palacios. 

t  The  house  from  whence  the  king  and  queen  contemplated  the  battle,  is  likewise 
to  be  seen  at  the  present  day.  It  is  in  the  first  street  to  the  right,  on  entering  the 
village  from  the  vega;  and  the  royal  arms  are  painted  on  the  ceilings.  It  is  in 
habited  by  a  worthy  farmer,  Francisco  Garcia,  who,  in  showing  the  house,  refuses 
all  compensation,  with  true  Spanish  pride;  offering,  on  the  contrary,  the  hospi 
talities  of  his  mansion  to  the  stranger.  His  children  are  versed  in  the  old  Spanish 
ballads,  about  the  exploits  of  Hernando  Perez  del  Pulgar  and  Garcilasso  de  la 
Vega. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 

CONFLAGRATION   OF  THE   CHRISTIAN  CAMP. 

THE  ravages  of  war  had  as  yet  spared  a  little  portion  of  the 
vega  of  Granada.  A  green  belt  of  gardens  and  orchards  still 
flourished  round  the  city,  extending  along  the  hanks  of  the 
Xenel  and  the  Darro.  They  had  been  the  solace  and  delight 
of  the  inhabitants  in  their  happier  days,  and  contributed 
to  their  sustenance  in  this  time  of  scarcity.  Ferdinand  de 
termined  to  make  a  final  and  exterminating  ravage  to  the  very 
walls  of  the  city,  so  that  there  should  not  remain  a  single  green 
thing  for  the  sustenance  of  man  or  beast.  The  evening  of  a 
hot  July  day  shone  splendidly  upon  the  Christian  camp,  which 
was  in  a  bustle  of  preparation  for  the  next  day's  service— for 
desperate  resistance  was  expected  from  the  Moors.  The  camp 
made  a  glorious  appearance  in  the  setting  sun.  The  various 
tents  of  the  royal  family  and  the  attendant  nobles,  were 
adorned  with  rich  hangings,  and  sumptuous  devices,  and  costly 
furniture ;  forming,  as  it  were,  a  little  city  of  silk  and  brocade, 
where  the  pinnacles  of  pavilions  of  various  gay  colors,  sur 
mounted  with  waving  standards  and  fluttering  pennons,  might 
vie  with  the  domes  and  minarets  of  the  capital  they  were  be 
sieging. 

In  the  midst  of  this  little  gaudy  metropolis,  the  lofty  tent  of 
the  queen  domineered  over  the  rest  like  a  stately  palace.  The 
marques  of  Cadiz  had  courteously  surrendered  his  own  tent  to 
the  queen :  it  was  the  most  complete  and  sumptuous  in  Chris 
tendom,  and  had  been  carried  about  with  him  throughout  the 
war.  In  the  centre  rose  a  stately  alfaneque  or  pavilion  in  ori 
ental  taste,  the  rich  hangings  being  supported  by  columns  of 
lances  and  ornamented  with  martial  devices.  This  central  pa 
vilion,  or  silken  tower,  was  surrounded  by  other  compartments, 
some  of  painted  linen  lined  with  silk,  and  all  separated  from 
each  other  by  curtains.  It  was  one  of  those  camp  palaces 
which  are  raised  and  demolished  in  an  instant,  like  the  city  of 
canvas  that  surrounds  them. 

As  the  evening  advanced,  the  bustle  in  the  camp  subsided. 
Every  one  sought  repose,  preparatory  to  the  next  day's  trial. 
The  king  retired  early,  that  he  might  be  up  with  the  crowing 


336  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

of  the  cock,  to  head  the  destroying  army  in  person.  All  stir 
of  military  preparation  was  hushed  in  the  royal  quarters ;  the 
very  sound  of  minstrelsy  was  mute,  and  not  the  tinkling  of  a 
guitar  was  to  be  heard  from  the  tents  of  the  fair  ladies  of  the 
court. 

The  queen  had  retired  to  the  innermost  part  of  her  pavilion, 
where  she  was  performing  her  orisons  before  a  private  altar 
perhaps  the  peril  to  which  the  king  might  be  exposed  in  the 
next  day's  foray,  inspired  her  with  more  than  usual  devotion. 
While  thus  at  her  prayers,  she  was  suddenly  aroused  by  a 
glare  of  light,  and  wreaths  of  suffocating  smoke.  In  an  in 
stant,  the  whole  tent  was  in  a  blaze :  there  was  a  high  gusty 
wind,  which  whirled  the  light  flames  from  tent  to  tent,  and 
wrapped  the  whole  in  one  conflagration. 

Isabella  had  barely  time  to  save  herself  by  instant  flight. 
Her  first  thought,  on  being  extricated  from  her  tent,  was  for 
the  safety  of  the  king.  She  rushed  to  his  tent,  but  the  vigilant 
Ferdinand  was  already  at  the  entrance  of  it.  Starting  from 
bed  at  the  first  alarm,  and  fancying  it  an  assault  of  the  enemy, 
he  had  seized  his  sword  and  buckler,  and  sallied  forth  un 
dressed,  with  his  cuirass  upon  his  arm. 

The  late  gorgeous  camp  was  now  a  scene  of  wild  confusion. 
The  flames  kept  spreading  from  one  pavilion  to  another,  glar 
ing  upon  the  rich  armor,  and  golden  and  silver  vessels,  which 
seemed  melting  in  the  fervent  heat.  Many  of  the  soldiers  had 
erected  booths  and  bowers  of  brances,  which,  being  dry,  crack 
led  and  blazed,  and  added  to  the  rapid  conflagration.  The 
ladies  of  the  court  fled,  shrieking  and  half-dressed,  from  their 
tents.  There  was  an  alarm  of  drum  and  trumpet,  and  a  dis 
tracted  hurry  about  the  camp  of  men  half  armed.  The  prince 
Juan  had  been  snatched  out  of  bed  by  an  attendant,  and  con 
veyed  to  the  quarters  of  the  count  de  Cabra,  which  were  at  the 
entrance  of  the  camp.  The  loyal  count  immediately  summoned 
his  people,  and  those  of  his  cousin  Don  Alonzo  de  Montemagor, 
and  formed  a  guard  round  the  tent  in  which  the  prince  was 
sheltered. 

The  idea  that  this  was  a  stratagem  of  the  Moors,  soon  sub 
sided  ;  but  it  was  feared  they  might  take  advantage  of  it  to  as 
sault  the  camp.  The  marques  of  Cadiz,  therefore,  sallied  forth 
with  three  thousand  horse  to  check  any  advance  from  the  city. 
As  they  passed  along,  the  whole  camp  was  a  scene  of  hurry 
and  consternation — some  hastening  to  their  posts,  at  the  call  of 
drum  and  trumpet ;  some  attempting  to  save  rich  effects  and 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  337 

glittering  armor  from  the  tents,  others  dragging  along  terrified 
and  restive  horses. 

When  they  emerged  from  the  camp,  they  found  the  whole 
firmament  illuminated.  The  flames  whirled  up  in  long  light 
spires,  and  the  air  was  filled  with  sparks  and  cinders.  A 
bright  glare  was  thrown  upon  the  city,  revealing  every  bat 
tlement  and  tower.  Turbaned  heads  were  seen  gazing  from 
every  roof,  and  armor  gleamed  along  the  walls ;  yet  not  a  sin 
gle  warrior  salh'ed  from  the  gates :  the  Moors  suspected  some 
stratagem  on  the  part  of  the  Christians,  and  kept  quietly 
within  their  walls.  By  degrees,  the  flames  expired ;  the  city 
f aded  from  sight ;  all  again  became  dark  and  quiet,  and  the 
marques  of  Cadiz  returned  with  his  cavalry  to  the  camp. 


CHAPTER  L. 

THE  LAST  RAVAGE  BEFORE  GRANADA. 

WHEN  the  day  dawned  on  the  Christian  camp,  nothing  re 
mained  of  that  beautiful  assemblage  of  stately  pavilions,  but 
heaps  of  smouldering  rubbish,  with  helms  and  corselets  and 
other  furniture  of  war,  and  masses  of  melted  gold  and  silver 
glittering  among  the  ashes.  The  wardrobe  of  the  queen  was 
entirely  destroyed,  and  there  was  an  immense  loss  in  plate, 
jewels,  costly  stuffs,  and  sumptuous  armor  of  the  luxurious 
nobles.  The  fire  at  first  had  been  attributed  to  treachery,  but 
on  investigation  it  proved  to  be  entirely  accidental.  The 
queen,  on  retiring  to  her  prayers,  had  Ordered  her  lady  in  at 
tendance  to  remove  a  light  burning  near  her  couch,  lest  it 
should  prevent  her  sleeping.  Through  heedlessness,  the  taper 
was  placed  in  another  part  of  the  tent,  near  the  hangings, 
which  being  blown  against  it  by  a  gust  of  wind,  immediately 
took  fire. 

The  wary  Ferdinand  knew  the  sanguine  temperament  of  the 
Moors,  and  hastened  to  prevent  their  deriving  confidence  from 
the  night's  disaster.  At  break  of  day,  the  drums  and  trum 
pets  sounded  to  arms,  and  the  Christian  army  issued  from 
among  the  smoking  ruins  of  their  camp,  in  shining  squadrons, 
with  flaunting  banners  and  bursts  of  martial  melody,  as  though 
the  preceding  night  had  been  a  time  of  high  festivity,  instead 
of  terror. 


338  THE  VO&QVEtiT  OF  GRANADA. 

The  Moors  had  beheld  the  conflagration  with  wonder  and 
perplexity.  When  the  day  broke,  and  they  looked  towards 
the  Christian  camp,  they  saw  nothing  but  a  dark  smoking 
roass.  Their  scouts  came  in,  with  the  joyful  intelligence  that 
the  whole  camp  was  a  scene  of  ruin.  Scarce  had  the  tidings 
spread  throughout  the  city,  when  they  beheld  the  Christiam 
army  advancing  towards  their  walls.  They  considered  it  a 
feint,  to  cover  their  desperate  situation  and  prepare  for  a  re 
treat.  Boabdil  el  Chico  had  one  of  his  impulses  of  valor — he 
determined  to  take  the  field  in  person,  and  to  follow  up  this 
signal  blow  which  Allah  had  inflicted  on  the  enemy. 

The  Christian  army  approached  close  to  the  city,  and  were 
laying  waste  the  gardens  and  orchards,  when  Boabdil  sallied 
forth,  surrounded  by  all  that  was  left  of  the  flower  and  chiv 
alry  of  Granada.  There  is  one  place  where  even  the  coward 
becomes  brave — that  sacred  spot  called  home.  What  then 
must  have  been  the  valor  of  the  Moors,  a  people  always  of 
fiery  spirit,  when  the  war  was  thus  brought  to  their  thresholds ! 
They  fought  among  the  scenes  of  their  loves  and  pleasures; 
the  scenes  of  their  infancy,  and  the  haunts  of  their  domestic 
life.  They  fought  under  the  eyes  of  their  wives  and  children, 
their  old  men  and  their  maidens,  of  all  that  was  helpless  and 
all  that  was  dear  to  them ;  for  all  Granada,  crowded  on  tower 
and  battlement,  watched  with  trembling  heart  the  fate  of  this 
eventful  day. 

There  was  not  so  much  one  battle,  as  a  variety  of  battles ; 
every  garden  and  orchard  became  a  scene  of  deadly  contest ; 
every  inch  of  ground  was  disputed,  with  an  agony  of  grief  and 
valor,  by  the  Moors ;  every  inch  of  ground  that  the  Christians 
advanced,  they  valiantly  maintained ;  but  never  did  they  ad 
vance  with  severer  fighting,  or  greater  loss  of  blood. 

The  cavalry  of  Muza  was  in  every  part  of  the  field ;  wherever 
it  came,  it  gave  fresh  ardor  to  the  fight.  The  Moorish  soldier, 
fainting  with  heat,  fatigue,  and  wounds,  was  roused  to  new 
life  at  the  approach  of  Muza ;  and  even  he  who  lay  gasping  in 
the.  agonies  of  death,  turned  his  face  towards  him,  and  faintly 
uttered  cheers  and  blessings  as  he  passed. 

The  Christians  had  by  this  time  gained  possession  of  various 
towers  near  the  city,  from  whence  they  had  been  annoyed  by 
cross-bows  and  arquebusses.  The  Moors,  scattered  in  various 
actions,  were  severely  pressed.  Boabdil,  at  the  head  of  the 
cavaliers  of  his  guard,  displayed  the  utmost  valor,  mingling  in 
the  fight  in  various  parts  of  the  field,  and  endeavoring  to  in- 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  339 

spirit  the  foot-soldiers  in  the  combat.  But  the  Moorish  infan 
try  was  never  to  be  depended  upon.  In  the  heat  of  the  action, 
a  panic  seized  upon  them;  they  fled,  leaving  their  sovereign 
exposed  with  his  handful  of  cavaliers  to  an  overwhelming 
force.  Boabdil  was  on  the  point  of  falling  into  the  hands  of 
the  Christians,  when,  wheeling  round,  Avith  his  followers,  they 
threw  the  reins  on  the  necks  of  their  fleet  steeds,  and  took 
refuge  by  dint  of  hoof  within  the  walls  of  the  city.* 

Muza  endeavored  to  retrieve  the  fortune  of  the  field.  He 
threw  himself  before  the  retreating  infantry,  calling  upon  them 
to  turn  and  fight  for  their  homes,  their  families,  for  every 
thing  that  was  sacred  and  dear  to  them.  It  was  all  in  vain  :— 
they  were  totally  broken  and  dismayed,  and  fled  tumultuously 
for  the  gates.  Muza  would  fain  have  kept  the  field  with  his 
cavalry ;  but  this  devoted  band,  having  stood  the  brunt  of  war 
throughout  this  desperate  campaign,  was  fearfully  reduced  in 
numbers,  and  many  of  the  survivors  were  crippled  and  enfee 
bled  by  their  wounds.  Slowly  and  reluctantly  Muza  retreated 
to  the  city,  his  bosom  swelling  with  indignation  and  despair. 
When  he  entered  the  gates,  he  ordered  them  to  be  closed,  and 
secured  with  bolts  and  bars ;  for  he  refused  to  place  any  fur 
ther  confidence  in  the  archers  and  arquebusiers  who  were  sta 
tioned  to  defend  them,  and  he  vowed  never  more  to  sally  forth 
with  foot-soldiers  to  the  field. 

In  the  mean  time  the  artillery  thundered  from  the  walls,  and 
checked  all  further  advances  of  the  Christians.  King  Ferdi 
nand,  therefore,  called  off  his  troops,  and  returned  in  triumph 
to  the  ruins  of  his  camp,  leaving  the  beautiful  city  of  Granada 
wrapped  in  the  smoke  of  her  fields  and  gardens,  and  surrounded 
by  the  bodies  of  her  slaughtered  children. 

Such  was  the  last  sally  made  by  the  Moors,  in  defence  of 
their  favorite  city.  The  French  ambassador,  who  witnessed 
it,  was  filled  with  wonder,  at  the  prowess,  the  dexterity,  and 
daring  of  the  Moslems. 

In  truth,  this  whole  war  was  an  instance,  memorable  in  his 
tory,  of  the  most  persevering  resolution.  For  nearly  ten  years 
had  the  war  endured— an  almost  uninterrupted  series  of  disas 
ters  to  the  Moorish  arms.  Their  towns  had  been  taken,  one 
after  another,  and  their  brethren  slain  or  led  into  captivity. 
Yet  they  disputed  every  city  and  town,  and  fortress  and  castle, 
nay  every  rock  itself,  as  if  they  had  been  inspirited  by  victor- 

*  Zurita.  lib.  20.  c.  8R 


340  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA 

ies.  Wherever  they  could  plant  foot  to  fight,  or  find  wall  or 
cliff  from  whence  to  lanch  an  arrow,  they  disputed  their  be 
loved  country ;  and  now,  when  their  capital  was  cut  off  from 
all  relief,  and  had  a  whole  nation  thundering  at  his  gates,  they 
still  maintained  defence,  as  if  they  hoped  some  miracle  to  inter 
pose  in  their  behalf.  Their  obstinate  resistance  (says  an  an 
cient  chronicler)  shows  the  grief  with  which  the  Moors  yielded 
up  the  vega,  which  was  to  them  a  paradise  and  heaven.  Ex 
erting  all  the  strength  of  their  arms,  they  embraced,  as  it  were, 
that  most  beloved  soil,  from  which  neither  wounds,  nor  -de 
feat,  nor  death  itself,  could  part  them.  They  stood  firm,  bat 
tling  for  it  with  the  united  force  of  love  and  grief,  never  draw 
ing  back  the  foot  while  they  had  hands  to  fight,  or  fortune  to 
befriend  them.* 


CHAPTER  LI. 

BUILDING  OF  THE  CITY  OF  SANTA  FE— DESPAIR    OF    THE    MOORS. 

THE  Moors  now  shut  themselves  up  gloomily  within  their 
walls ;  there  were  no  longer  any  daring  sallies  from  their  gates ; 
and  even  the  martial  clangor  of  the  drum  and  trumpet,  which 
had  continually  resounded  within  that  warrior  city,  was  now 
seldom  heard  from  its  battlements.  V  or  a  time,  they  flattered 
themselves  with  hopes  that  the  late  conflagration  of  the  camp 
•would  discourage  the  besiegers;  that,  as  in  former  years,  their 
invasion  would  end  with  the  summer,  and  that  they  would 
again  withdraw  before  the  autumnal  rains. 

The  measures  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  soon  crushed  these 
hopes.  They  gave  orders  to  build  a  regular  city  upon  the  site 
of  their  camp,  to  convince  the  Moors  that  the  siege  was  to  en 
dure  until  the  surrender  of  Granada.  Nine  of  the  principal 
cities  of  Spain  were  charged  with  the  stupendous  undertaking ; 
and  they  emulated  each  other,  with  a  zeal  worthy  of  the  cause. 
"It  verily  seems,"  says  Fray  Antonio  Agapida,  "as  though 
some  miracle  operated  to  aid  this  pious  work,  so  rapidly  did 
arise  a  formidable  city,  with  solid  edifices,  and  powerful  walls, 
and  mighty  towers,  where  lately  had  been  seen  nothing  but 

*  Abarca,  Reyes  de  Aragon,  R.  30,  c.  3. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  341 

tents  and  light  pavilions.  The  city  was  traversed  by  two  prin 
cipal  streets  in  form  of  a  cross,  terminating  in  four  gates  facing 
the  four  winds ;  and  in  the  centre  was  a  vast  square,  where  the 
whole  army  might  be  assembled.  To  this  city  it  was  proposed 
to  give  the  name  of  Isabella,  so  dear  to  the  army  and  the  na 
tion;  "  but  that  pious  princess,"  adds  Antonio  Agapida,  "  call 
ing  to  mind  the  holy  cause  in  which  it  was  erected,  gave  it  the 
name  of  Santa  Fe,  (or  the  City  of  the  Holy  Faith ;)  and  it  re 
mains  to  this  day,  a  monument  of  the  piety  and  glory  of  the 
Catholic  sovereigns." 

Hither  the  merchants  soon  resorted,  from  all  points.  Long 
trains  of  mules  were  seen  every  day  entering  and  departing 
from  its  gates;  the  streets  were  crowded  with  magazines, 
filled  with  all  kinds  of  costly  and  luxurious  merchandise;  a 
scene  of  bustling  commerce  and  prosperity  took  place,  while 
unhappy  Granada  remained  shut  up  and  desolute. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  besieged  city  began  to  suffer  the  dis 
tress  of  famine.  Its  supplies  were  all  cut  off;  a  cavalgada  of 
flocks  and  herds,  and  mules  laden  with  money,  coming  to  the 
relief  of  the  city  from  the  mountains  of  the  Alpuxarras,  was 
taken  by  the  marques  of  Cadiz,  and  led  in  triumph  to  the 
camp,  in  sight  of  the  suffering  Moors.  Autumn  arrived ;  but 
the  harvests  had  been  swept  from  the  face  of  the  country; 
a  rigorous  winter  was  approaching,  and  the  city  was  almost 
destitute  of  provisions.  The  people  sank  into  deep  despon 
dency.  They  called  to  mind  all  that  had  been  predicted  by 
astrologers  at  the  birth  of  their  ill-starred  sovereign,  and  all 
that  had  been  foretold  of  the  fate  of  Granada  at  the  time  of 
the  capture  of  Zahara. 

Boabdil  was  alarmed  by  the  gathering  dangers  from  without, 
and  by  the  clamors  of  his  starving  people.  He  summoned  a 
council,  composed  of  the  principal  officers  of  the  army,  the 
alcaydes  of  the  fortresses,  the  xequis  or  sages  of  the  city,  and 
the  alfaquis  or  doctors  of  the  faith.  They  assembled  in  the 
great  hall  of  audience  of  the  Alhambra,  and  despair  wag 
painted  in  their  countenances.  Boabdil  demanded  of  them, 
what  was  to  be  done  in  their  present  extremity;  and  their 
answer  was,  "Surrender."  The  venerable  Abul  Cazin  Abdel 
Melic,  governor  of  the  city,  represented  its  unhappy  state: 
"  Our  granaries  are  nearly  exhausted,  and  no  further  supplies 
are  to  be  expected.  The  provender  for  the  war-horses  is  re 
quired  as  sustenance  for  the  soldiery ;  the  very  horses  them 
selves  are  killed  for  food ;  of  seven  thousand  steeds  which  once 


342  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

could  be  sent  into  the  field,  three  hundred  only  remain.  Our 
city  contains  two  hundred  thousand  inhabitants,  old  and 
young,  with  each  a  mouth  that  calls  piteously  for  bread." 

The  xequis  and  principal  citizens  declared  that  the  people 
could  no  longer  sustain  the  labors  and  sufferings  of  a  defence : 
"And  of  what  avail  is  our  defence,"  said  they,  "when  the 
enemy  is  determined  to  persist  in  the  siege? — what  alternative 
remains,  but  to  surrender  or  to  die?" 

The  heart  of  Boabdil  was  touched  by  this  appeal,  and  he 
maintained  a  gloomy  silence.  He  had  cherished  some  faint 
hope  of  relief  from  the  soldan  of  Egypt  or  the  Barbary  pow 
ers  :  but  it  was  now  at  an  end ;  even  if  such  assistance  were  to 
be  sent,  he  had  no  longer  a  sea-port  where  it  might  debark. 
The  counsellors  saw  that  the  resolution  of  the  king  was  shaken, 
and  they  united  their  voices  in  urging  him  to  capitulate. 

The  valiant  Muza  alone  arose  in  opposition:  "It  is  yet  too 
early,"  said  he,  "to  talk  of  a  surrender.  Our  means  are  not 
exhausted;  we  have  yet  one  source  of  strength  remaining, 
terrible  in  its  effects,  and  which  often  has  achieved  the  most 
signal  victories — it  is  our  despair.  Let  us  rouse  the  mass  of 
the  people— let  us  put  weapons  in  their  hands— let  us  fight  the 
enemy  to  the  very  utmost,  until  we  rush  upon  the  points  of 
their  lances.  I  am  ready  to  lead  the  way  into  the  thickest  of 
their  squadrons;  and  much  rather  would  I  be  numbered 
among  those  who  fell  in  the  defence  of  Granada,  than  of  those 
who  survived  to  capitulate  for  her  surrender !" 

The  words  of  Muza  were  without  effect,  for  they  were  ad 
dressed  to  broken-spirited  and  heartless  men,  or  men,  perhaps, 
to  whom  sad  experience  had  taught  discretion.  They  were  ar 
rived  at  that  state  of  public  depression,  when  heroes  and  hero 
ism  are  no  longer  regarded,  and  when  old  men  and  their 
counsels  rise  into  importance.  Boabdil  el  Chico  yielded  to  the 
general  voice;  it  was  determined  to  capitulate  with  tho  Chris 
tian  sovereigns;  and  the  venerable  Abul  Cazim  Abdul  Melic 
was  sent  forth  to  the  camp,  empowered  to  treat  for  terms. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  QliANAVA.  343 


CHAPTER  LIT. 

CAPITULATION  OP  GRANADA. 

THE  old  governor,  Abul  Cazim  Abdel  Melic,  was  received 
with  great  distinction  by  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  who  ap 
pointed  Gonsalvo  of  Cordova  and  Fernando  de  Zafra,  secre 
tary  to  the  king,  to  confer  with  him.  All  Granada  awaited, 
in  trembling  anxiety,  the  result  of  his  negotiations.  After  re 
peated  conferences,  he  at  length  returned  with  the  ultimate 
terms  of  the  Catholic  sovereigns.  They  agreed  to  suspend  all 
attack  for  seventy  days,  at  the  end  of  which  time,  if  no  succor 
should  arrive  to  the  Moorish  king,  the  city  of  Granada  was  to 
be  surrendered. 

All  Christian  captives  should  be  liberated,  without  ransom. 

Boabdil  and  his  principal  cavaliers  should  take  an  oath  of 
fealty  to  the  Castilian  crown,  and  certain  valuable  territories 
in  the  Alpuxarra  mountains  should  be  assigned  to  the  Moorish 
monarch  for  his  maintenance. 

The  Moors  of  Granada  should  become  subjects  of  the  Span 
ish  sovereigns,  retaining  their  possessions,  their  arms  and 
horses,  and  yielding  up  nothing  but  their  artillery.  They 
should  be  protected  in  the  exercise  of  their  religion,  and  gov 
erned  by  their  own  laws,  administered  by  cadis  of  their  own 
faith,  under  governors  appointed  by  the  sovereigns.  They 
should  be  exempted  from  tribute  tor  three  years,  after  which 
term  they  should  pay  the  same  that  they  had  been  accustomed 
to  render  to  their  native  monarchs. 

Those  who  chose  to  depart  for  Africa  within  three  years, 
should  be  provided  with  a  passage  for  themselves  and  their 
effects,  free  of  charge,  from  whatever  port  they  should  prefer. 

For  the  fulfilment  of  these  articles,  four  hundred  hostages 
from  the  principal  families  were  required,  previous  to  the  sur 
render,  to  be  subsequently  restored.  The  son  of  the  king  of 
Granada,  and  all  other  hostages  in  possession  of  the  Castilian 
sovereigns,  were  to  be  restored  at  the  same  time. 

Such  were  the  conditions  that  the  wazir  Abul  Cazim  laid 
before  the  council  of  Granada,  as  the  best  that  could  be  ob 
tained  from  the  besieging  foe. 

When  the  members  of  the  council  found  that  the  awful  mo- 


344  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

ment  had  arrived  when  they  were  to  sign  and  seal  the  perdi 
tion  of  their  empire,  aud  blot  themselves  out  as  a  nation,  all 
firmness  deserted  them,  and  many  gave  way  to  tears.  Muza 
alone  retained  an  unaltered  mien:  "Leave,  seniors,"  cried  he, 
"this  idle  lamentation  to  helpless  women  and  children:  we  are 
men— we  have  hearts,  not  to  shed  tender  tears,  but  drops  of 
blood.  I  see  the  spirit  of  the  people  so  cast  down,  that  it  is 
impossible  to  save  the  kingdom.  Yet  there  still  remains  an 
alternative  for  noble  minds — a  glorious  death !  Let  us  die  de 
fending  our  liberty,  and  avenging  the  woes  of  Granada.  Our 
mother  earth  will  receive  her  children  into  her  bosom,  safe 
from  the  chains  and  oppressions  of  the  conqueror ;  or,  should 
any  fail  a  sepulchre  to  hide  his  remains,  he  will  not  want  a  sky 
to  cover  him.  Allah  forbid,  it  should  be  said  the  nobles  of 
Granada  feared  to  die  in  her  defence !" 

Muza  ceased  to  speak,  and  a  dead  silence  reigned  in  the 
assembly.  Boabdil  el  Chico  looked  anxiously  round,  and 
scanned  every  face ;  but  he  read  in  them  all  the  anxiety  of  care 
worn  men,  in  whose  hearts  enthusiasm  was  dead,  and  who 
had  grown  callous  to  every  chivalrous  appeal.  ' '  Allah 
Acbar !  God  is  great!"  exclaimed  he;  "there  is  no  God  but  God, 
and  Mahomet  is  his  prophet !  It  is  in  vain  to  struggle  against 
the  will  of  Heaven.  Too  surely  was  it  written  in  the  book  of 
fate,  that  I  should  be  unfortunate,  and  the  kingdom  expire 
under  my  rule." 

"Allah  Acbar!  God  is  great!"  echoed  the  viziers  and  alfa 
quis  ;  "  the  will  of  God  be  done !"  So  they  all  accorded  with  the 
king,  that  these  evils  were  preordaind ;  that  it  was  hopeless  to 
contend  with  them ;  and  that  the  terms  offered  by  the  Castilian 
monarchs  were  as  favorable  as  could  be  expected. 

When  Muza  saw  that  they  were  about  to  sign  the  treaty  of 
surrender,  he  rose  in  violent  indignation :  ' '  Do  not  deceive 
yourselves,"  cried  he,  "nor  think  the  Christains  will  be  faithful 
to  their  promises,  or  their  king  as  magnanimous  in  conquest  as 
he  has  been  victorious  in  war.  Death  is  the  least  we  have  to 
fear.  It  is  the  plundering  and  sacking  of  our  city,  the  pro 
fanation  of  our  mosques,  the  ruin  of  our  homes,  the  violation 
of  our  wives  and*  daughters — cruel  oppression,  bigoted  intoler 
ance,  whips  and  chains,  the  dungeon,  the  fagot,  and  the  stake 
— such  are  the  miseries  and  indignities  we  shall  see  and  suffer ; 
at  least,  those  groveling  souls  will  see  them,  who  now  shrink 
from  an  honorable  death.  For  my  part,  by  Allah,  I  will  nevei 
witness  them !" 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  345 

With  these  words  he  left  the  council-chamber,  and  strode 
gloomily  through  the  Court  of  Lions  and  the  outer  halls  of  the 
Alhambra,  without  deigning  to  speak  to  the  obsequious  cour 
tiers  who  attended  in  them.  He  repaired  to  his  dwelling, 
armed  himself  at  all  points,  mounted  his  favorite  war-horse, 
and,  and  issuing  forth  from  the  city  by  the  gate  of  Elvira,  was 
never  seen  or  head  of  more.* 

Such  is  the  account  given  by  Arabian  historians,  of  the  exit 
of  Muza  ben  Abel  Gazan;  but  the  venerable  Fray  Antonio 
Agapida  endeavors  to  clear  up  the  mystery  of  his  fate.  That 
very  evening,  a  small  party  of  Andalusian  cavaliers,  some 
what  more  than  half  a  score  of  lances,  were  riding  along 
the  banks  of  the  Xenel,  where  it  winds  through  the  vega. 
They  beheld  in  the  twilight  a  Moorish  warrior  approaching, 
closely  locked  up  from  head  to  foot  in  proof.  His  visor  was 
closed,  his  lance  in  rest,  his  powerful  charger  barbed  like  him 
self  in  steel.  The  Christians  were  lightly  armed,  with  corselet, 
helm,  and  target ;  for,  during  the  truce,  they  apprehended  no  at 
tack.  Seeing,  however,  the  unknown  warrior  approach  in  this 
hostile  guise,  they  challenged  him  to  stand  and  declare  himself. 

The  Moslem  answered  not,  but,  charging  into  the  midst  of 
them,  transfixed  one  knight  with  his  lance,  and  bore  him  out 
of  his  saddle  to  the  earth.  Wheeling  round,  he  attacked  the 
rest  with  his  scimitar.  His  blows  were  furious  and  deadly ;  he 
seemed  regardless  what  wounds  he  received,  so  he  could  but 
slay.  He  was  evidently  fighting,  not  for  glory,  but  revenge — 
eager  to  inflict  death,  but  careless  of  surviving  to  enjoy 
victory.  Near  one-half  of  the  fell  cavaliers  beneath  his  sword, 
before  he  received  a  dangerous  wound,  so  completely  was  he 
cased  in -armor  of  proof.  At  length  he  was  desperately 
wounded,  and  his  steed,  being  pierced  by  a  lance,  sank  to  the 
ground.  The  Christains,  admiring  the  valor  of  the  Moor,  would 
have  spared  his  life :  but  he  continued  to  fight  upon  his  knees, 
brandishing  a  keen  dagger  of  Fez.  Finding  at  length  he  could 
no  longer  battle,  and  determined  not  to  be  taken  prisoner,  he 
threw  himself,  with  an  expiring  exertion,  into  the  Xenel,  and 
his  armor  sank  him  to  the  bottom  of  the  stream. 

This  unknown  warrior  the  venerable  Agapida  pronounces  to 
have  been  Muza  ben  Abel  Gazan,  and  says  his  horse  was  re 
cognised  by  certain  converted  Moors  of  the  Christian  camp: 
the  fact,  however,  has  always  remained  in  doubt. 

*  Conde,  part  4. 


346  THE  CONQUEST  OF  U  LI  AN  AD  A. 


CHAPTER  LIII. 

COMMOTIONS    IN  GRANADA. 

THE  capitulation  for  the  surrender  of  Granada  was  signed  on 
the  25th  of  November,  1481,  and  produced  a  sudden  cessation  of 
those  hostilities  which  had  raged  for  so  many  years.  Christian 
and  Moor  might  now  be  seen  mingling  courteously  on  the 
banks  of  .the  Xenel  and  the  Darro,  where  to  have  met  a  few 
days  previous  would  have  produced  a  scene  of  sanguinary  con 
test.  Still,  as  the  Moors  might  be  suddenly  aroused  to  defence, 
if,  within  the  allotted  term  of  seventy  days,  succors  should 
arrive  from  abroad ;  and  as  they  were  at  all  times  a  rash,  in 
flammable  people,  the  wary  Ferdinand  maintained  a  vigilant 
watch  upon  the  city,  and  permitted  no  supplies  of  any  kind  to 
enter.  His  garrisons  in  the  sea-ports,  and  his  cruisers  in  the 
Straits  of  Gibraltar,  were  ordered  likewise  to  guard  against 
any  relief  from  the  grand  soldan  of  Egypt,  or  the  princes  of 
Barbary.  There  was  no  need  of  such  precautions.  Those 
powers  were  either  too  much  engrossed  by  their  own  wars,  or 
too  much  daunted  by  the  success  of  the  .Spanish  arms,  to  in 
terfere  in  a  desperate  cause;  and  the  unfortunate  Moors  of 
Granada  were  abandoned  to  their  fate. 

The  month  of  December  had  nearly  passed  away:  the  fa 
mine  became  extreme,  and  there  was  no  hope  of  any  favorable 
even  t within  the  terms  pecified  in  the  capitulation.  Boabdil 
saw,  that  to  hold  out  to  the  end  of  the  allotted  time  would  but 
be  to  protract  the  miseries  of  his  people.  With  the  consent 
of  his  council,  he  determined  to  surrender  the  city  on  the  sixth 
of  January.  On  the  30th  of  December,  he  sent  his  grand  vizier 
Yusef  Aben  Comixa,  with  the  four  hundred  hostages,  to  king 
Ferdinand,  to  make  known  his  intention ;  bearing  him,  at  the 
same  time,  a  present  of  a  magnificent  scimitar,  and  two  Ara 
bian  steeds  superbly  caparisoned. 

The  unfortunate  Boabdil  was  doomed  to  meet  with  trouble, 
to  the  end  of  his  career.  The  very  next  day,  the  santon  or 
dervise  Hamet  Aben  Zarrax,  the  same  who  had  uttered 
prophecies  and  excited  commotions  on  former  occasions,  sud 
denly  made  his  appearance.  Whence  he  came,  no  one  knew ; 
it  was  rumored  that  he  had  been  in  the  mountains  of  the 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  347 

Alpuxarras,  and  on  the  coast  of  Barbary,  endeavoring  to  rouse 
the  Moslems  to  the  reliei  of  Granada.  He  was  reduced  to  a 
skeleton;  his  eyes  glowed  like  coals  in  their  sockets,  and  his 
speech  was  little  better  than  frantic  raving.  He  harangued 
the  populace,  in  the  streets  and  squares ;  inveighed  against  the 
capitulation,  denounced  the  king  and  nobles  as  Moslems  only 
in  name,  and  called  upon  the  people  to  sally  forth  against  the 
unbelievers,  for  that  Allah  had  decreed  them  a  signal  victory. 

Upwards  of  twenty  thousand  of  the  populace  seized  their 
arms,  and  paraded  the  streets  with  shouts  and  outcries.  The 
shops  and  houses  were  shut  up ;  the  king  himself  did  not  dare 
to  venture  forth,  but  remained  a  kind  of  prisoner  in  the  Al- 
hambra. 

The  turbulent  multitude  continued  roaming  and  shouting 
and  howling  about  the  city,  during  the  day  and  a  part  of  the 
night.  Hunger,  and  a  wintry  tempest,  tamed  their  frenzy; 
and  when  morning  came,  the  enthusiast  who  had  led  them  on 
had  disappeared.  Whether  he  had  been  disposed  of  by  the 
emissaries  of  the  king,  or  by  the  leading  men  of  the  city,  is  not 
known:  his  disappearance  remains  a  mystery.* 

The  Moorish  king  now  issued  from  the  Alhambra,  attended 
by  his  principal  nobles,  and  harangued  the  populace.  He  set 
forth  the  necessity  of  complying  with  the  capitulation,  from 
the  famine  that  reigned  in  the  city,  the  futility  of  defence,  and 
from  the  hostages  having  already  been  delivered  into  the  hands 
of  the  besiegers. 

In  the  dejection  of  his  spirits,  the  unfortunate  Boabdil  attrib 
uted  to  himself  the  miseries  of  the  country.  ' '  It  was  my  crime 
in  ascending  the  throne  in  rebellion  against  my  father, "  said 
he,  mournfully,  ' '  which  has  brought  these  woes  upon  the  king 
dom  ;  but  Allah  has  grievously  visited  my  sins  upon  my  head. 
For  your  sake,  my  people,  I  have  now  made  this  treaty,  to 
protect  you  from  the  sword,  your  little  ones  from  famine,  your 
wives  and  daughters  from  the  outrages  of  war ;  and  to  secure 
you  in  the  enjoyment  of  your  properties,  your  liberties,  your 
laws,  and  your  religion,  under  a  sovereign  of  happier  destinies 
than  the  ill-starred  Boabdil." 

The  volatile  population  were  touched  by  the  humanity  of 
their  sovereign — they  agreed  to  adhere  to  the  capitulation,  and 
there  was  even  a  faint  shout  of  "  Long  live  Boabdil  the  unfor- 


*  Mariana. 


348  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

tunate !"  and  they  all  returned  to  their  homes  in  perfect  tran 
quillity. 

Boabdil  immediately  sent  missives  to  king  Ferdinand,  ap 
prizing  him  of  these  events,  and  of  his  fears  lest  further  delay 
should  produce  new  tumults.  He  proposed,  therefore,  to  sur 
render  the  city  on  the  following  day.  The  Oastilian  sovereigns 
assented,  with  great  satisfaction ;  and  preparations  were  made 
in  city  and  camp  for  this  great  event,  that  was  to  seal  the  fate 
Granada. 

It  was  a  night  of  doleful  lamentings,  within  the  walls  of  the 
Alhambra;  for  the  household  of  Boabdil  were  preparing  to 
take  a  last  farewell  of  that  delightful  abode.  All  the  royal 
treasures,  and  the  most  precious  effects  of  the  Alhambra,  were 
hastily  packed  upon  mules;  the  beautiful  apartments  were 
despoiled,  with  tears  and  wailings,  by  their  own  inhabitants. 
Before  the  dawn  of  day,  a  mournful  cavalcade  moved  obscurely 
out  of  a  postern  gate  of  the  Alhambra,  and  departed  through 
one  of  the  most  retired  quarters  of  the  city.  It  was  composed 
of  the  family  of  the  unfortunate  Boabdil,  which  he  sent  off 
thus  privately,  that  they  might  not  be  exposed  to  the  eyes  of 
scoffers,  or  the  exultation  of  the  enemy.  The  mother  of  Bo 
abdil,  the  sultana  Ayxa  la  Horra,  rode  on  in  silence,  with  de 
jected  yet  dignified  demeanor ;  but  his  wife  Zorayma,  and  all 
the  females  of  his  household,  gave  way  to  loud  lamentations, 
as  they  looked  back  upon  their  favorite  abode,  now  a  mass  of 
gloomy  towers  behind  them.  They  were  attended  by  the  an 
cient  domestics  of  the  household,  and  by  a  small  guard  of 
veteran  Moors,  loyally  attached  to  the  fallen  monarch,  and  who 
would  have  sold  their  lives  dearly  in  defence  of  his  family. 
The  city  was  yet  buried  in  sleep,  as  they  passed  through  its 
silent  streets.  The  guards  at  the  gate  ched  tears,  as  they 
opened  it  for  their  departure.  They  paused  not,  but  proceeded 
along  the  banks  of  the  Xenel  on  the  road  that  leads  to  the  Al- 
puxarras,  until  they  arrived  at  a  hamlet  at  some  distance  from 
the  city,  where  they  halted,  and  waited  until  they  should  be 
joined  by  king  Boabdil. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  349 


CHAPTEE  LIV. 

SURRENDER  OF  GRANADA. 

THE  sun  had  scarcely  begun  to  shed  his  beams  upon  the  sum 
mits  of  the  snowy  mountains  which  rise  above  Granada,  when 
the  Christian  canip  was  in  motion.  A  detachment  of  horse  and 
foot,  led  by  distinguished  cavaliers,  and  accompanied  by  Her- 
nando  de  Talavera,  bishop  of  Avila,  proceeded  to  take  posses 
sion  of  the  Alhambra  and  the  towers.  It  had  been  stipulated 
in  the  capitulation,  that  the  detachment  sent  for  this  purpose 
should  not  enter  by  the  streets  of  the  city ;  a  road  had  there 
fore  been  opened,  outside  of  the  walls,  leading  by  the  Puerta 
de  los  Milinos,  or  the  Gate  of  the  Mills,  to  the  summit  of  the 
Hill  of  Martyrs,  and  across  the  hill  to  a  postern-gate  of  the 
Alhambra. 

When  the  detachment  arrived  at  the  summit  of  the  hill,  the 
Moorish  king  came  forth  from  the  gate,  attended  by  a  handful 
of  cavaliers,  leaving  his  vizier  Yusef  Abed  Comixa  to  deliver 
up  the  palace.  "  Go,  senior,"  said  he  to  the  commander  of  the 
detachment,  "  go  and  take  possession  of  those  fortresses,  which 
Allah  has  bestowed  upon  your  powerful  sovereigns,  in  punish 
ment  of  the  sins  of  the  Moors."  He  said  no  more,  but  passed 
mournfully  on,  along  the  same  road  by  which  the  Spanish  cav 
aliers  had  come  descending  to  the  vega,  to  meet  the  Catholic 
sovereigns.  The  troops  entered  the  Alhambra,  the  gates  of 
which  were  wide  open,  and  all  its  splendid  courts  and  halls 
silent  and  deserted. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  Christian  court  and  army  poured  out 
of  the  city  of  Santa  Fe,  and  advanced  across  the  vega.  The 
king  and  queen,  with  the  prince  and  princess,  and  the  digni 
taries  and  ladies  of  the  court,  took  the  lead,  accompanied  by 
the  different  orders  of  monks  and  friars,  and  surrounded  by 
the  royal  guards  splendidly  arrayed.  The  procession  moved 
slowly  forward,  and  paused  at  the  village  of  Armilla,  at  the 
distance  of  half  a  league  from  the  city. 

The  sovereigns  waited  here  with  impatience,  their  eyes  fixed 
on  the  lofty  tower  of  the  Alhambra,  watching  for  the  appointed 
signal  of  possession.  The  time  that  had  elapsed  since  the  de 
parture  of  the  detachment  seemed  to  them  more  than  necessary 


350  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

for  the  purpose,  and  the  anxious  mind  of  Ferdinand  began  to 
entertain  doubts  of  some  commotion  in  the  city.  At  length 
they  saw  the  silver  cross,  the  great  standard  of  this  crusade, 
elevated  on  the  Torre  de  la  Vala,  or  Great  Watch-Tower,  and 
sparkling  in  the  sunbeams.  This  was  done  by  Hernando  de 
Talavera,  bishop  of  Avila.  Beside  it  was  planted  the  pennon  of 
the  glorious  apostle  St.  James,  and  a  great  shout  of  ' '  Santiago ! 
Santiago !"  rose  throughout  the  army.  Lastly  was  reared  the 
royal  standard  by  the  king  of  arms,  with  the  shout  of  "Castile ! 
Castile !  For  king  Ferdinand  and  queen  Isabella !"  The  words 
were  echoed  by  the  whole  army,  with  acclamations  that  re 
sounded  across  the  vega.  At  sight  of  these  signals  of  posses 
sion,  the  sovereigns  sank  upon  their  knees,  giving  thanks  to 
God  for  this  great  triumph ;  the  whole  assembled  host  followed 
their  example,  and  the  choristers  of  the  royal  chapel  broke 
forth  into  the  solemn  anthem  of  "  Te  deum  laudamus" 

The  procession  now  resumed  its  march  with  joyful  alacrity, 
to  the  sound  of  triumphant  music,  until  they  came  to  a  small 
mosque,  near  the  banks  of  the  Xenel,  and  not  far  from  the 
foot  of  the  Hill  of  Martyrs,  which  edifice  remains  to  the 
present  day,  consecrated  as  the  hermitage  of  St.  Sebastian. 
Here  the  sovereigns  were  met  by  the  unfortunate  Boabdil, 
accompanied  by  about  fifty  cavaliers  and  domestics.  As  he 
drew  near,  he  would  have  dismounted  in  token  of  homage, 
but  Ferdinand  prevented  him.  He  then  proffered  to  kiss  the 
king's  hand,  but  this  sign  of  vassalage  was  likewise  declined ; 
whereupon,  not  to  be  outdone  in  magnanimity,  he  leaned 
forward  and  kissed  the  right  arm  of  Ferdinand.  Queen 
Isabella  also  refused  to  receive  this  ceremonial  of  homage, 
and,  to  console  him  under  his  adversity,  delivered  to  him  his 
son,  who  had  remained  as  hostage  ever  since  Boabdil's  libera 
tion  from  captivity.  The  Moorish  monarch  pressed  his  child 
to  his  bosom  with  tender  emotion,  and  they  seemed  mutually 
endeared  to  each  other  by  their  misfortunes.* 

He  then  delivered  the  keys  of  the  city  to  king  Ferdinand, 
with  an  air  of  mingled  melancholy  and  resignation:  "These 
keys,"  said  he,  "are  the  last  relics  of  the  Arabian  empire  in 
Spain :  thine,  oh  king,  are  our  trophies,  our  kingdom,  and  our 
person.  Such  is  the  will  of  God!  Receive  them  with  the 
clemency  thou  hast  promised,  and  which  we  look  for  at  thy 
hands.1' t 

*  Zurita,  Anales  de  Aragon.       t  Abarca,  Anales  de  Aragon,  Rey  30,  c.  3 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  351 

King  Ferdinand  restrained  his  exultation  into  an  air  of 
serene  magnanimity.  "Doubt  not  our  promises, "  replied  he, 
•'nor  that  thou  shalt  regain  from  our  friendship  the  pros 
perity  of  which  the  fortune  of  war  has  deprived  thee." 

On  receiving  the  keys,  king  Ferdinand  handed  them  to  the 
queen ;  she  in  her  turn  presented  them  to  her  son  prince  Juan, 
who  delivered  them  to  the  count  de  Tendilla,  that  brave  and 
loyal  cavalier  being  appointed  alcayde  of  the  city,  and 
captain-general  of  the  kingdom  of  Granada. 

Having  surrendered  the  last  symbol  of  power,  the  unfortu 
nate  Boabdil  continued  on  towards  the  Alpuxarras,  that  he 
might  not  behold  the  entrance  of  the  Christians  into  his 
capital.  His  devoted  band  of  cavaliers  followed  him  in 
gloomy  silence ;  but  heavy  sighs  burst  from  their  bosoms,  as 
shouts  of  joy  and  strains  of  triumphant  music  were  borne  on 
the  breeze  from  the  victorious  army. 

Having  rejoined  his  family,  Boabdil  set  forward  with  a 
heavy  heart  for  his  allotted  residence  in  the  valley  of  Pur- 
chena.  At  two  leagues'  distance,  the  cavalcade,  winding  into 
the  skirts  of  the  Alpuxarras,  ascended  an  eminence  command 
ing  the  last  view  of  Granada.  As  they  arrived  at  this  spot, 
the  Moors  paused  involuntarily,  to  take  a  farewell  gaze  at 
their  beloved  city,  which  a  few  steps  more  would  shut  from 
their  sight  for  ever.  Never  had  it  appeared  so  lovely  in  their 
eyes.  The  sunshine,  so  bright  in  that  transparent  climate,  lit 
up  each  tower  and  minaret,  and  rested  gloriously  upon  -the 
crowning  battlements  of  the  Alhambra;  while  the  vega  spread 
its  enamelled  bosom  of  verdure  below,  glistening  with  the 
silver  windings  of  the  Xenel.  The  Moorish  cavaliers  gazed 
with  a  silent  agony  of  tenderness  and  grief  upon  that  delicious 
abode,  the  scene  of  their  loves  and  pleasures.  While  they  yet 
looked,  a  light  cloud  of  smoke  burst  forth  from  the  citadel, 
and  presently  a  peal  of  artillery,  faintly  heard,  told  that  the 
city  was  taken  possession  of,  and  the  throne  of  the  Moslem 
kings  was  lost  for  ever.  The  heart  of  Boabdil,  softened  by 
misfortunes  and  overcharged  with  grief,  could  no  longer 
contain  itself:  "  Allah  Acbar!  God  is  great!"  said  he;  but  the 
words  of  resignation  died  upon  his  lips,  and  he  burst  into  a 
flood  of  tears. 

His  mother,  the  intrepid  sultana  Ayxa  la  Horra,  was  indig 
nant  at  his  weakness:  "You  do  well,"  said  she,  "  to  weep  like 
A  woman,  for  what  you  failed  to  defend  like  a  man !" 

The  vizier  Aben  Comixa  endeavored  to  console  his  royal 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

master.  "Consider,  sire,"  said  he,  "that  the  most  signal 
misfortunes  often  render  men  as  renowned  as  the  most  pros 
perous  achievements,  provided  they  sustain  them  with  mag 
nanimity." 

The  unhappy  monarch,  however,  was  not  to  be  consoled; 
his  tears  continued  to  flow.  ' '  Allah  Acbar !"  exclaimed  he ; 
"  when  did  misfortunes  ever  equal  mine?" 

From  this  circumstance,  the  hill,  which  is  not  far  from  the 
Padul,  took  the  name  of  Feg  Allah  Acbar;  but  the  point  of 
view  commanding  the  last  prospect  of  Granada,  is  known 
among  Spaniards  by  the  name  of  El  ultimo  suspiro  del  Moro; 
or,  "  The  last  sigh  of  the  Moor." 


CHAPTER  LV. 

HOW  THE  CASTILIAN  SOVEREIGNS  TOOK  POSSESSION  OF  GRA 
NADA. 

WHEN  the  Castilian  sovereigns  had  received  the  keys  of 
Granada  from  the  hands  of  Boabdil  el  Chico,  the  royal  army 
resumed  its  triumphant  march.  As  it  approached  the  gates 
of  the  city,  in  all  the  pomp  of  courtly  and  chivalrous  array, 
a  procession  of  a  different  kind  came  forth  to  meet  it.  This 
was  composed  of  more  than  five  hundred  Christian  captives, 
many  of  whom  had  languished  for  years  in  Moorish  dungeons. 
Pale  and  emaciated,  they  came  clanking  their  chains  in 
triumph,  and  shedding  tears  of  joy.  They  were  received  with 
tenderness  by  the  sovereigns.  The  king  hailed  them  as  good 
Spaniards,  as  men  loyal  and  brave,  as  martyrs  to  the  holy 
cause;  the  queen  distributed  liberal  relief  among  them  with 
her  own  hands,  and  they  passed  on  before  the  squadrons  of 
the  army,  singing  hymns  of  jubilee.* 

The  sovereigns  did  not  enter  the  city  on  this  day  of  its 
surrender,  but  waited  until  it  should  be  fully  occupied  by 
their  troops,  and  public  tranquillity  insured.  The  marques  de 
Villena  and  the  count  de  Tendilla,  with  three  thousand 
cavalry  and  as  many  infantry,  marched  in  and  took  possess 
ion,  accompanied  by  the  proselyte  prince  Cidi  Yahye,  now 
known  by  the  Christian  appellation  of  Don  Pedro  de  Granada, 
who  was  appointed  chief  alguazil  of  the  city,  and  had  charge 

*  Abarca,  lib.  sup.  Zurita,  &c. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  353 

of  the  Moorish  inhabitants,  and  by  his  son  the  late  prince 
Alnayar,  now  Don  Alonzo  de  Granada,  who  was  appointed 
admiral  of  the  fleets.  In  a  little  while,  every  battlement 
glistened  with  Christian  helms  and  lances,  the  standard  of  the 
faith  and  of  the  realm  floated  from  every  tower,  and  the 
thundering  salvoes  of  the  ordnance  told  that  the  subjugation 
of  the  city  was  complete. 

The  grandees  and  cavaliers  now  knelt  and  kissed  the  hands 
of  the  king  and  queen  and  the  prince  Juan,  and  congratulated 
them  on  the  acquisition  of  so  great  a  kingdom;  after  which, 
the  royal  procession  returned  in  state  to  Santa  Fe. 

It  was  on  the  sixth  of  January,  the  day  of  kings  and 
festival  of  the  Epiphany,  that  the  sovereigns  made  their 
triumphal  entry.  The  king  and  queen  (says  the  worthy  Fray 
Antonio  Agapida)  looked,  on  this  occasion,  as  more  than 
mortal ;  the  venerable  ecclesiastics,  to  whose  advice  and  zeal 
this  glorious  conquest  ought  in  a  great  measure  to  be  attribu 
ted,  moved  along  with  hearts  swelling  with  holy  exultation, 
but  with  chastened  and  downcast  looks  of  edifying  humility ; 
while  the  hardy  warriors,  in  tossing  plumes  and  shining  steel, 
seemed  elevated  with  a  stern  joy,  at  finding  themselves  in 
possession  of  this  object  of  so  many  toils  and  perils.  As  the 
streets  resounded  with  the  tramp  of  steed  and  swelling  peals 
of  music,  the  Moors  buried  themselves  in  the  deepest  recesses 
of  their  dwellings.  There  they  bewailed  in  secret  the  fallen 
glory  of  their  race,  but  suppressed  their  groans,  lest  they 
should  be  heard  by  their  enemies  and  increase  their  triumph. 

The  royal  procession  advanced  to  the  principal  mosque, 
which  had  been  consecrated  as  a  cathedral.  Here  the  sov 
ereigns  offered  up  prayers  and  thanksgivings,  and  the  choir 
of  the  royal  chapel  chanted  a  triumphant  anthem,  in  which 
they  were  joined  by  all  the  courtiers  and  cavaliers.  Nothing 
(says  Fray  Antonio  Agapida)  could  exceed  the  thankfulness  to 
God  of  the  pious  king  Ferdinand,  for  having  enabled  him  to 
eradicate  from  Spain  the  empire  and  name  of  that  accursed 
heathen  race,  and  for  the  elevation  of  the  cross  in  that  city 
wherein  the  impious  doctrines  of  Mahomet  had  so  long  been 
cherished.  In  the  fervor  of  his  spirit,  he  supplicated  from 
Heaven  a  continuance  of  its  grace,  and  that  this  glorious 
triumph  might  be  perpetuated.*  The  prayer  of  the  pious 

*  The  words  of  Fray  Antonio  Agapida  are  little  more  than  an  echo  of  those  of 
th»  worthy  Jesuit  father  Mariana.  (L.  25.  c.  18.) 


354  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

monarch  was  responded  by  the  people,  and  even  his  enemies 
were  for  once  convinced  of  his  sincerity. 

When  the  religious  ceremonies  were  concluded,  the  court 
ascended  to  the  stately  palace  of  the  Alhambra,  and  entered 
by  the  great  gate  of  Justice.  The  halls  lately  occupied  by 
turbaned  infidels  now  rustled  with  stately  dames  and 
Christian  courtiers,  who  wandered  with  eager  curiosity  over 
this  far-famed  palace,  admiring  its  verdant  courts  and  gush 
ing  fountains,  its  halls  decorated  with  elegant  arabesques  and 
storied  with  inscriptions,  and  the  splendor  of  its  gilded  and 
brilliantly  painted  ceilings. 

It  had  been  a  last  request  of  the  unfortunate  Boabdil,  and 
one  which  showed  how  deeply  he  felt  the  transition  of  his 
fate,  that  no  person  might  be  permitted  to  enter  or  depart  by 
the  gate  of  the  Alhambra,  through  which  he  had  sallied  forth 
to  surrender  his  capital.  His  request  was  granted ;  the  portal 
was  closed  up,  and  remains  so  to  the  present  day— a  mute 
memorial  of  that  event.* 

The  Spanish  sovereigns  fixed  their  throne  in  the  presence- 
chamber  of  the  palace,  so  long  the  seat  of  Moorish  royalty. 
Hither  the  principal  inhabitants  of  Granada  repaired,  to  pay 
them  homage  and  kiss  their  hands  in  token  of  vassalage ;  and 
their  example  was  followed  by  deputies  from  all  the  towns 
and  fortresses  of  the  Alpuxarras,  which  had  not  hitherto 
submitted. 

Thus  terminated  the  war  of  Granada,  after  ten  years  of 
incessant  fighting;  equalling  (says  Fray  Antonio  Agapida) 
the  far-famed  siege  of  Troy  in  duration,  and  ending,  like  that, 
in  the  capture  of  the  city.  Thus  ended  also  the  dominion  of 


*  Garibay,  Compend.  Hist.  lib.  40.  c.  42.  The  existence  of  this  gateway,  and  the 
story  connected  with  it,  are  perhaps  known  to  few;  but  were  identified,  in  the 
researches  made  to  verify  this  history.  The  gateway  is  at  the  bottom  of  the  great 
tower,  at  some  distance  from  the  main  body  of  the  Alhambra.  The  tower  has  been 
rent  and  ruined  by  gunpowder,  at  the  time  when  the  fortress  was  evacuated  by  the 
French.  Great  masses  lie  around,  half  covered  by  vines  and  fig-trees.  A  poor 
man,  by  the  name  of  Matteo  Ximenes,  who  lives  in  one  of  the  halls  among  the 
ruins  of  the  Alhambra,  where  his  family  has  resided  for  many  generations,  pointed 
out  the  gateway,  still  closed  up  with  stones.  He  remembered  to  have  heard  his 
father  and  grandfather  say,  that  it  had  always  been  stopped  up,  and  that  out  of  it 
king  Boabdil  had  gone  when  he  surrendered  Granada.  The  route  of  the  unfortu 
nate  king  may  be  traced  from  thence  across  the  garden  of  the  convent  of  Los 
Martyros,  and  down  a  ravine  beyond,  through  a  street  of  gipsy  caves  and  hovels, 
by  the  gate  of  Los  Molinos,  and  so  on  to  the  Hermitage  of  St.  Sebastian.  None  but 
an  antiquarian,  however,  will  be  able  to  trace  it,  unless  aided  by  the  humble 
historian  of  the  place,  Matteo  Ximenes. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  355 

the  Moors  in  Spain,  having  endured  seven  hundred  and 
seventy-eight  years,  from  the  memorable  defeat  of  Eoderick, 
the  last  of  the  Goths,  on  the  banks  of  the  Guadalete.  The 
authentic  Agapida  is  uncommonly  particular  in  fixing  the 
epoch  of  this  event.  This  great  triumph  of  our  holy  Catholic 
faith,  according  to  his  computation,  took  place  in  the  begin 
ning  of  January,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  1492,  being  3G55 
years  from  the  population  of  Spain  by  the  patriarch  Tubal ; 
3797  from  the  general  deluge ;  5453  from  the  creation  of  the 
world,  according  to  Hebrew  calculation;  and  in  the  month 
Rabic,  in  the  eight  hundred  and  ninty-seventh  year  of  the 
Hegira,  or  flight  of  Mahomet;  whom  may  God  confound! 
saith  the  pious  Agapida. 


APPENDIX. 

FATE  OF  BOABDIL  EL  CHICO. 

THE  CHRONICLE  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA  is  finished ; 
but  the  reader  may  be  desirous  of  knowing  the  subsequent 
fortunes  of  some  of  the  principal  personages.  The  unfortu 
nate  Boabdil  retired  to  the  valley  of  Purchena,  where  a  small 
but  fertile  territory  had  been  allotted  him,  comprising  several 
towns,  with  all  their  rights  and  revenues.  Great  estates  had 
likewise  been  bestowed  on  his  vizier  Yusef  Aben  Comixa  and 
his  valiant  relation  and  friend  Yusef  Venegas,  both  of  whom 
resided  near  him.  Were  it  in  the  heart  of  man  in  the  enjoy 
ment  of  present  competence  to  forget  past  splendor,  Boabdil 
might  at  length  have  been  happy.  Dwelling  in  the  bosom  of 
a  delightful  valley,  surrounded  by  obedient  vassals,  devoted 
friends,  and  a  loving  family,  he  might  have  looked  back  upon 
his  past  career  as  upon  a  troubled  and  terrific  dream,  and 
might  have  thanked  his  stars  that  he  had  at  length  awaked  to 
sweet  and  tranquil  security.  But  the  dethroned  prince  could 
never  forget  that  he  had  once  been  a  monarch;  and  the 
remembrance  of  the  regal  splendors  of  Granada,  made  all 
present  comforts  contemptible  in  his  eyes.  No  exertions  were 
spared  by  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  to  induce  him  to  embrace 
the  Catholic  religion ;  but  he  remained  true  to  the  faith  of  his 
fathers,  and  it  added  not  a  little  to  his  humiliation,  to  live  a 
vassal  under  Christian  sovereigns. 


356  THE  CONQUEST  OF  ORANADA. 

It  is  probable  that  his  residence  in  the  kingdon  was  equally 
irksome  to  the  politic  Ferdinand,  who  could  not  feel  perfectly 
secure  in  his  newly  conquered  territories,  while  there  was  one 
within  their  bounds  who  might  revive  pretensions  to  the 
throne.  A  private  bargain  was  therefore  made,  in  the  year 
1496,  between  Ferdinand  and  Yusef  Aben  Comixa,  in  which 
the  latter,  as  vizier  of  Boabdil,  undertook  to  dispose  of  his 
master's  scanty  territory,  for  eighty  thousand  ducats  of  gold. 
This,  it  is  affirmed,  was  done  without  the  consent  or 
knowledge  of  Boabdil;  but  the  vizier  probably  thought  he 
was  acting  for  the  best. 

The  shrewd  Ferdinand  does  not  appear  to  have  made  any 
question  about  the  right  of  the  vizier  to  make  the  sale,  but 
paid  the  money  with  secret  exultation.  Yusef  Aben  Comixa 
loaded  the  treasure  upon  mules,  and  departed  joyfully  for  the 
Alpuxarras.  He  spread  the  money  in  triumph  before  Boadbil : 
"  Senior,"  said  he,  "I  have  observed  that  as  long  as  ;V\AI  live 
here,  you  are  exposed  to  constant  peril.  The  Moors  are  rash 
and  irritable;  they  may  make  some  sudden  insurrection, 
elevate  your  standard  as  a  pretext,  and  thus  overwhelm  you 
and  your  friends  with  utter  ruin.  I  have  observed  also  that 
you  pine  away  with  grief,  being  continually  reminded  in  this 
country  that  you  were  once  its  sovereign,  but  never  more 
must  hope  to  reign.  I  have  put  an  end  to  these  evils.  Your 
territory  is  sold— behold  the  price  of  it.  With  this  gold  you 
may  buy  far  greater  possessions  in  Africa,  where  you  may 
live  in  honor  and  security." 

When  Boabdil  heard  these  words,  he  burst  into  a  sudden 
transport  of  rage,  and,  drawing  his  scimitar,  would  have  sacri 
ficed  the  officious  Yusef  on  the  spot,  had  not  the  attendants 
interfered,  and  hurried  the  vizier  from  his  presence. 

Boabdil  was  not  of  a  vindictive  spirit,  and  his  anger  soon 
passed  away.  He  saw  that  the  evil  was  done,  and  he  knew 
the  spirit  of  the  politic  Ferdinand  too  well  to  hope  that  he 
would  retract  the  bargain.  Gathering  together  the  money, 
therefore,  and  all  his  jewels  and  precious  effects,  he  departed 
with  his  family  and  household  for  a  port  where  a  vessel  had 
been  carefully  provided  by  the  Castilian  king  to  transport 
them  to  Africa. 

A  crowd  of  his  former  subjects  witnessed  his  embarkation. 
As  the  sails  were  unfurled  and  swelled  to  the  breeze,  and  the 
vessel  parted  from  the  land,  the  spectators  would  fain  have 
given  him  a  parting  cheering ;  but  the  humbled  state  of  their 
once  proud  sovereign  forced  itself  upon  their  minds,  and  the 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  357 

ominous  surname  of  his  youth  rose  involuntarily  to  their 
tongues:  "Farewell,  Boabdil!  Allah  preserve  thee,  El  Zogoy- 
bi  /"  burst  spontaneously  from  their  lips.  The  unlucky  appel 
lation  sank  into  the  heart  of  the  expatriated  monarch,  and 
tears  dimmed  his  eyes  as  the  snowy  summits  of  the  mountains 
of  Granada  gradually  faded  from  his  view. 

He  was  received  with  welcome  at  the  court  of  his  relation, 
Muley  Ahmed,  King  of  Fez,  and  resided  for  many  years  in  his 
territories.  How  he  passed  his  life,  whether  repining  or  re 
signed,  history  does  not  mention.  The  last  we  find  recorded 
of  him  is  in  the  year  1536,  thirty-four  years  after  the  surrender 
of  Granada,  when  he  followed  the  King  of  Fez  to  the  field,  to 
quell  the  rebellion  of  two  brothers  named  Xerifes.  The  armies 
came  in  sight  of  each  other,  on  the  banks  of  the  Guadiswed,  at 
the  ford  of  Bacuba.  The  river  was  deep,  the  banks  were  high 
and  broken ;  for  three  days  the  armies  remained  firing  at  each 
other  across  the  stream,  neither  venturing  to  attempt  the  dan 
gerous  ford. 

At  length  the  King  of  Fez  divided  his  army  into  three  bat 
talions  ;  the  first  led  on  by  his  son,  and  by  Boabdil  el  Chico. 
They  boldly  dashed  across  the  ford,  scrambled  up  the  opposite 
bank,  and  attempted  to  keep  the  enemy  employed  until  the 
other  battalions  should  have  time  to  cross.  The  rebel  army, 
however,  attacked  them  with  such  fury,  that  the  son  of  the 
King  of  Fez  and  several  of  the  bravest  alcaydes,  were  slain 
upon  the  spot;  multitudes  were  driven  back  into  the  river, 
which  was  already  crowded  with  passing  troops.  A  dreadful 
confusion  took  place ;  the  horse  trampled  upon  the  foot ;  the 
enemy  pressed  on  them  with  fearful  slaughter;  those  who 
escaped  the  sword  perished  by  the  stream;  the  river  was 
choked  by  the  dead  bodies  of  men  and  horses,  and  by  the  scat 
tered  baggage  of  the  army.  In  this  scene  of  horrible  carnage 
fell  Boabdil,  truly  called  El  Zogoybi,  or  the  unlucky ;  an  in 
stance,  says  the  ancient  chronicler,  of  the  scornful  caprice  of 
fortune,  dying  in  defence  of  the  kingdom  of  another,  after 
wanting  spirit  to  die  in  defence  of  his  own.* 

*  Marmol,  Descrip.  de  Africa,  p.  1,  1.  2,  c.  40.  Idem,  Hist.  Reb.  de  los  Moros,  lib. 
1,  c.  21. 

NOTE. — A  portrait  of  Boabdil  el  Chico  is  to  be  seen  in  the  picture-gallery  of  the 
Generaliffe.  He  is  represented  with  a  mild,  handsome  face,  a  fair  complexion,  and 
yellow  hair.  His  dress  is  of  yellow  brocade,  relieved  with  black  velvet,  and  he  has 
a  black  velvet  cap,  surmounted  with  a  crown.  In  the  armory  of  Madrid  are  two 
suits  of  armor,  said  to  have  belonged  to  him.  One  is  of  solid  steel,  with  very  little 
ornament,  the  helmet  closed.  From  the  proportions  of  these  suits  of  armor,  he 
must  have  been  of  full  stature  and  vigorous  form. 


358  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 


DEATH  OF  THE  MAEQUES  OF  CADIZ. 

THE  renowned  Eoderigo  Ponce  de  Leon,  Marques,  Duke  of 
Cadiz,  was  unquestionably  the  most  distinguished  among  the 
cavaliers  of  Spain,  for  his  zeal,  enterprise,  and  heroism  in  the 
great  crusade  of  Granada.  He  began  the  war  by  the  capture 
of  Alhama ;  he  was  engaged  in  almost  every  inroad  and  siege 
of  importance,  during  its  continuance ;  and  he  was  present  at 
the  surrender  of  the  capital,  which  was  the  closing  scene  of  the 
conquest.  The  renown  he  thus  acquired  was  sealed  by  his 
death,  which  happened  in  the  forty-eighth  year  of  his  age, 
almost  immediately  at  the  close  of  his  triumphs,  and  before  a 
leaf  of  his  laurels  had  time  to  wither.  He  died  at  his  palace  in 
the  city  of  Seville,  on  the  27th  day  of  August,  1492,  but  a  few 
months  after  the  surrender  of  Granada,  and  of  an  illness 
caused  by  the  exposures  and  fatigues  he  had  undergone  in  this 
memorable  war.  That  honest  chronicler,  Andres  Bernaldes, 
the  curate  of  Los  Palacios,  who  was  a  contemporary  of  the 
marques,  draws  his  portrait  from  actual  knowledge  and  obser 
vation.  He  was  universally  cited  (says  he)  as  the  most  perfect 
model  of  chivalrous  virtue  of  the  age.  He  was  temperate, 
chaste,  and  rigidly  devout ;  a  benignant  commander,  a  valiant 
defender  of  his  vassals,  a  great  lover  of  justice,  and  an  enemy 
to  all  flatterers,  liars,  robbers,  traitors,  and  poltroons. 

His  ambition  was  of  a  lofty  kind— he  sought  to  distinguish 
himself  and  his  family,  by  heroic  and  resounding  deeds ;  and 
to  increase  the  patrimony  of  his  ancestors,  by  the  acquisition 
of  castles,  domains,  vassals,  and  other  princely  possessions. 
His  recreations  were  all  of  a  warlike  nature ;  he  delighted  in 
geometry  as  applied  to  fortifications,  and  spent  much  time  and 
treasure  in  erecting  and  repairing  fortresses.  He  relished 
music,  but  of  a  military  kind — the  sound  of  clarions  and  sack- 
buts,  of  drums  and  trumpets.  Like  a  true  cavalier,  he  was  a 
protector  of  the  sex  on  all  occasions,  and  an  injured  woman 
never  applied  to  him  in  vain  for  redress.  His  prowess  was  so 
well  known,  and  his  courtesy  to  the  fair,  that  the  ladies  of  the 
court,  when  they  accompanied  the  queen  tathe  wars,  rejoiced 
to  find  themselves  under  his  protection ;  for  wherever  his  ban 
ner  was  displayed,  the  Moors  dreaded  to  adventure.  He  was  a 
faithful  and  devoted  friend,  but  a  formidable  enemy;  for  he 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  859 

was  slow  to  forgive,  and  his  vengeance  was  persevering  and 
terrible. 

The  death  of  this  good  cavalier  spread  grief  and  lamentation 
throughout  all  ranks,  for  he  was  universally  honored  and  be 
loved.  His  relations,  dependants,  and  companions  in  arms, 
put  on  mourning  for  his  loss ;  and  so  numerous  were  they,  that 
half  of  Seville  was  clad  in  black.  None,  however,  deplored  his 
death  more  deeply  and  sincerely  than  his  friend  and  chosen 
companion,  Don  Alonzo  de  Aguilar. 

The  funeral  ceremonies  were  of  the  most  solemn  and  sumpt 
uous  kind.  The  body  of  the  marques  was  arrayed  in  a  costly 
shirt,  a  doublet  of  brocade,  a  sayo  or  long  robe  of  black  velvet, 
a  marlota  or  Moorish  tunic  of  brocade  that  reached  to  the  feet, 
and  scarlet  stockings.  His  sword,  superbly  gilt,  was  girded  to 
his  side,  as  he  used  to  wear  it  when  in  the  field.  Thus  magni 
ficently  attired,  the  body  was  inclosed  in  a  coffin,  which  was 
covered  with  black  velvet,  and  decorated  with  a  cross  of  white 
damask.  It  was  then  placed  on  a  sumptuous  bier,  in  the 
centre  of  the  great  hall  of  the  palace.  Here  the  duchess  made 
great  lamentation  over  the  body  of  her  lord,  in  which  she  was 
joined  by  her  train  of  damsels  and  attendants,  as  well  as  by  the 
pages  and  esquires,  and  innumerable  vassals  of  the  marques. 

In  the  close  of  the  evening,  just  before  the  Ave  Maria,  the 
funeral  procession  issued  from  the  palace.  Ten  banners  were 
borne  around  the  bier,  the  particular  trophies  of  the  marques, 
won  from  the  Moors  by  his  valor  in  individual  enterprises, 
before  King  Ferdinand  had  commenced  the  war  of  Granada. 
The  procession  was  swelled  by  an  immense  train  of  bishops, 
priests,  and  friars  of  different  orders,  together  with  the  civil 
and  military  authorities,  and  all  the  chivalry  of  Seville,  headed 
by  the  Count  of  Cifuentes,  at  that  time  intendente  or  com 
mander  of  the  city.  It  moved  slowly  and  solemnly  through 
the  streets,  stopping  occasionally,  and  chanting  litanies  and 
responses.  Two  hundred  and  forty  waxen  tapers  shed  a  light 
like  the  day  about  the  bier.  The  balconies  and  windows  were 
crowded  with  ladies,  who  shed  tears  as  the  funeral  train 
passed  by ;  while  the  women  of  the  lower  classes  were  loud  in 
their  lamentations,  as  if  bewailing  the  loss  of  a  father  or  a 
brother.  On  approaching  the  convent  of  St.  Augustine,  the 
monks  came  forth  with  the  cross  and  tapers,  and  eight  censers, 
and  conducted  the  body  into  the  church,  where  it  lay  in  state 
until  all  the  vigils  were  performed,  by  the  different  orders; 
after  which  it  was  deposited  in  the  family  tomb  of  the  Ponces 


360  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

in  the  same  church,  and  the  ten  banners  were  suspended  over 
the  sepulchre.* 

The  tomb  of  the  valiant  Roderigo  Ponce  de  Leon,  with  his 
banners  mouldering  above  it,  remained  for  ages  an  object  of 
veneration  with  all  who  had  read  or  heard  of  his  virtues  and 
achievements.  In  the  year  1810,  however,  the  chapel  was 
sacked  by  the  French,  its  altars  overturned,  and  the  sepulchres 
of  the  family  of  Ponces  shattered  to  pieces.  The  present  duch 
ess  of  Benevente,  the  worthy  descendent  of  this  illustrious  and 
heroic  line,  has  since  piously  collected  the  ashes  of  her  ancestors, 
restored  the  altar,  and  repaired  the  chapel.  The  sepulchres, 
however,  were  utterly  destroyed ;  an  inscription  in  gold  letters, 
on  the  wall  of  the  chapel,  to  the  right  of  the  altar,  is  all  that 
denotes  the  place  of  sepulture  of  the  brave  Ponce  de  Leon. 


THE  LEGEND  OF  THE  DEATH  OF  DON  ALONZO  DE 
AGUILAR 

To  such  as  feel  an  interest  in  the  fortunes  of  the  valiant  Don 
Alonzo  de  Aguilar,  the  chosen  friend  and  companion  in  arms 
of  Ponce  de  Leon,  marques  of  Cadiz,  and  one  of  the  most  dis 
tinguished  heroes  of  the  war  of  Granada,  a  few  particulars  of 
his  remarkable  fate  will  not  be  unacceptable.  They  are  found 
among  the  manuscripts  of  the  worthy  padre  Fray  Antonio 
Agapida,  and  appear  to  have  been  appended  to  this  Chronicle. 

For  several  years  after  the  conquest  of  Granada,  the  country 
remained  feverish  and  unquiet.  The  zealous  efforts  of  the 
Catholic  clergy  to  effect  the  conversion  of  the  infidels,  and  the 
pious  coercion  used  for  that  purpose  by  government,  exas 
perated  the  stubborn  Moors  of  the  mountains.  Several  mission 
aries  were  maltreated ;  and  in  the  town  of  Dayrin,  two  of  them 
were  seized,  and  exhorted,  with  many  menaces,  to  embrace 
the  Moslem  faith;  on  their  resolutely  refusing,  they  were 
killed  with  staves  and  stones,  by  the  Moorish  women  and 
children,  and  their  bodies  burnt  to  ashes,  t 

Upon  this  event,  a  body  of  Christian  cavaliers  assembled  in 
Andalusia  to  the  number  of  eight  hundred,  and,  without  wait 
ing  for  orders  from  the  king,  revenged  the  death  of  these  mar- 

*  Cura  de  los  Palacios,  c.  104.  t  Ibid,  c.  165. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  861 

tyrs,  by  plundering  and  laying  waste  the  Moorish  towns  and 
villages.  The  Moors  fled  to  the  mountains,  and  their  cause 
was  espoused  by  many  of  their  nation,  who  inhabited  those 
rugged  regions.  The  storm  of  rebellion  began  to  gather,  and 
mutter  its  thunders  in  the  AJpuxarras.  They  were  echoed  from 
the  Serrania  of  Honda,  ever  ready  for  rebellion;  but  the 
strongest  hold  of  the  insurgents  was  in  the  Sierra  Vermeja,  or 
chain  of  Eed  Mountains,  which  lie  near  the  sea,  and  whose 
savage  rocks  and  precipices  may  be  seen  from  Gibraltar. 

When  king  Ferdinand  heard  of  these  tumults,  he  issued  a 
proclamation  ordering  all  the  Moors  of  the  insurgent  regions  to 
leave  them  within  ten  days,  and  repair  to  Castile ;  giving  secret 
instructions,  however,  that  those  who  should  voluntarily  em 
brace  the  Christian  faith  might  be  permitted  to  remain.  At 
the  same  time,  he  ordered  Don  Alonzo  de  Aguilar,  and  the 
counts  of  Urena  and  Cifuentes,  to  march  against  the  rebels. 

Don  Alonzo  de  Aguilar  was  at  Cordova  when  he  received  the 
commands  of  the  king.  "What  force  is  allotted  us  for  this 
expedition?"  said  he.  On  being  told,  he  perceived  that  the 
number  of  troops  was  far  from  adequate.  "When  a  man 
is  dead,"  said  he,  "  we  send  four  men  into  his  house  to  bring 
forth  the  body.  We  are  now  sent  to  chastise  these  Moors,  who 
are  alive,  vigorous  in  open  rebellion,  and  ensconced  in  their 
castles;  yet  they  do  not  give  us  man  to  man."  These  words  of 
the  brave  Alonzo  de  Aguilar  were  afterwards  frequently  re 
peated  ;  but  though  he  saw  the  desperate  nature  of  the  enter 
prise,  he  did  not  hesitate  to  undertake  it. 

Don  Alonzo  was  at  that  time  in  the  fifty-first  year  of  his  age. 
He  was  a  veteran  warrior,  in  whom  the  fire  of  youth  was  yet 
unquenched,  though  tempered  by  experience.  The  greater  part 
of  his  life  had  been  passed  in  the  camp  and  in  the  field,  until 
danger  was  as  his  natural  element.  His  muscular  frame  had 
acquired  the  firmness  of  iron,  without  the  rigidity  of  age. 
His  armor  and  weapons  seemed  to  have  become  a  part  of  his 
nature,  and  he  sat  like  a  man  of  steel  on  his  powerful  war- 
horse. 

He  took  with  him,  on  this  expedition,  his  son,  Don  Pedro  de 
Cordova,  a  youth  of  bold  and  generous  spirit,  in  the  freshness 
of  his  days  and  armed  and  arrayed  with  all  the  bravery  of  a 
young  Spanish  cavalier.  When  the  populace  of  Cordova  be 
held  the  veteran  father,  the  warrior  of  a  thousand  battles, 
leading  forth  his  youthful  son  to  the  field,  they  bethought 
themselves  of  the  family  appelation:  "Behold,"  cried  they, 


362  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

' '  tlie  eagle  teaching  his  young  to  fly !  Long  live  the  valiant 
line  of  Aguilar  I"  * 

The  prowess  of  Don  Alonzo,  and  of  his  companions  in 
arms,  was  renowned  throughout  the  Moorish  towns.  At  their 
approach,  therefore,  numbers  of  the  Moors  submitted,  and  has 
tened  to  Honda  to  embrace  Christianity.  Among  the  moun 
taineers,  however,  there  were  many  of  the  Gaudules,  a  fierce 
tribe  from  Africa,  too  proud  of  spirit  to  bend  their  necks 
to  the  yoke.  At  their  head  was  a  Moor  named  El  Feri  of  Ben 
Estepar,  renowned  for  strength  and  courage.  At  his  instiga 
tions,  his  followers  gathered  together  their  families  and  most 
precious  effects,  placed  them  on  mules,  and,  driving  before 
them  their  flocks  and  herds,  abandoned  their  valleys,  and  re 
tired  up  the  craggy  passes  of  the  Sierra  Vermeja.  On  the 
summit  was  a  fertile  plain,  surrounded  by  rocks  and  precipices, 
which  formed  a  natural  fortress.  Here  El  Feri  placed  all  the 
women  and  children,  and  all  the  property.  By  his  orders,  his 
followers  piled  great  stones  on  the  rocks  and  cliffs,  which  com 
manded  the  defiles  and  the  steep  sides  of  the  mountain,  and 
prepared  to  defend  every  pass  that  led  to  his  place  of  refuge. 

The  Christian  commanders  arrived,  and  pitched  their  camp 
before  the  town  of  Monarda,  a  strong  place,  curiously  fortified, 
and  situated  at  the  foot  of  the  highest  part  of  the  Sierra  Ver 
meja.  Here  they  remained  for  several  days,  unable  to  compel 
a  surrender.  They  were  separated  from  the  skirt  of  the  moun 
tain  by  a  deep  barranca  or  ravine,  at  the  bottom  of  which 
flowed  a  small  stream.  The  Moors,  commanded  by  El  Feri, 
drew  down  from  their  mountain  height,  and  remained  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  brook,  to  defend  a  pass  which  led  up  to 
their  strong-hold. 

One  afternoon,  a  number  of  Christian  soldiers,  in  mere 
bravado,  seized  a  banner,  crossed  the  brook,  and,  scrambling 
up  the  opposite  bank,  attacked  the  Moors.  They  were  followed 
by  numbers  of  their  companions,  some  in  aid,  some  in  emula 
tion,  but  most  in  hope  of  booty.  A  sharp  action  ensued  on  the 
mountain  side.  The  Moors  were  greatly  superior  in  number, 
and  had  the  vantage  ground.  When  the  counts  of  Urena  and 
Cifuentes  beheld  this  skirmish,  they  asked  Don  Alonzo  de 
Aguilar  his  opinion:  "My  opinion,"  said  he,  "was  given  at 
Cordova,  and  remains  the  same ;  this  is  a  desperate  enterprise : 
however,  the  Moors  are  at  hand,  and  if  they  suspect  weakness 

*  AQuilar— the  Spanish  for  Eagie. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  363 

in  us,  it  will  increase  their  courage  and  our  peril.  Forward, 
then,  to  the  attack,  and  I  trust  in  God  we  shall  gain  a  victory." 
So  saying  he  led  his  troops  into  the  battle.* 

On  the  skirts  of  the  mountain  were  several  level  places,  like 
terraces ;  here  the  Christians  pressed  valiantly  upon  the  Moors, 
and  had  the  advantage ;  but  the  latter  retreated  to  the  steep 
and  craggy  heights,  from  whence  they  hurled  darts  and  rocks 
upon  their  assailants.  They  defended  their  passes  and  denies 
with  ferocious  valor,  but  were  driven  from  height  to  height, 
until  they  reached  the  plain  on  the  summit  of  the  mountain, 
where  their  wives  and  children  were  sheltered.  Here  they 
would  have  made  a  stand ;  but  Alonzo  de  Aguilar,  with  his 
son  Don  Pedro,  charged  upon  them  at  the  head'  of  three  hun 
dred  men,  and  put  them  to  flight  with  dreadful  carnage. 
While  they  were  pursuing  the  flying  enemy,  the  rest  of  the 
army,  thinking  the  victory  achieved,  dispersed  themselves 
over  the  little  plain  in  search  of  plunder.  They  pursued  the 
shrieking  females,  tearing  off  their  necklaces,  bracelets,  and 
anklets  of  gold ;  and  thsy  found  so  much  treasure  of  various 
kinds  collected  in  this  spot,  that  they  threw  by  their  armor 
and  weapons,  to  load  themselves  with  booty. 

Evening  was  closing.  The  Christians,  intent  upon  spoil,  had 
ceased  to  pursue  the  Moors,  and  the  latter  were  arrested  in 
their  flight  by  the  cries  of  their  wives  and  children.  Their 
fierce  leader,  El  Feri,  threw  himself  before  them:  "Friends, 
soldiers,"  cried  he,  "  whither  do  you  fly?  Whither  can  you 
seek  refuge,  where  the  enemy  cannot  follow  you?  Your  wives, 
your  children,  are  behind  you — turn  and  defend  them;  you 
have  no  chance  for  safety  but  from  the  weapons  in  your 
hands." 

The  Moors  turned  at  his  words.  They  beheld  the  Christians 
scattered  about  the  plain,  many  of  them  without  armor,  and 
all  encumbered  with  spoil.  "Now  is  the  time!"  shouted  El 
Feri;  "charge  upon  them,  while  laden  with  your  plunder.  I 
will  open  a  path  for  you !"  He  rushed  to  the  attack,  followed 
by  his  Moors,  with  shouts  and  cries  that  echoed  through  the 
mountains.  The  scattered  Christians  were  seized  with  panic, 
and,  throwing  down  their  booty,  began  to  fly  in  all  directions. 
Don  Alonzo  de  Aguilar  advanced  his  banner,  and  endeavored 
to  rally  them.  Finding  his  horse  of  no  avail  in  these  rocky 
heights,  he  dismounted,  and  caused  his  men  to  do  the  same ; 


ttleda.  L.  5.  c. 


364  TEE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

he  hsfld  a  small  band  of  tried  followers,  with  which  he  opposed 
a  bold  front  to  the  Moors,  calling  on  the  scattered  troops  to 
rally  in  the  rear. 

Night  had  completely  closed.  It  prevented  the  Moors  from 
seeing  the  smallness  of  the  force  with  which  they  were  con 
tending  ;  and  Don  Alonzo  and  his  cavaliers  dealt  their  blows 
so  vigorously,  that,  aided  by  the  darkness,  they  seemed  multi 
plied  to  ten  times  their  number.  Unfortunately,  a  small  cask 
of  gunpowder  blew  up,  near  to  the  scene  of  action.  It  shed  a 
momentary  but  brilliant  light  over  all  the  plain,  and  on  every 
rock  and  cliff.  The  Moors  beheld,  with  surprise,  that  they 
were  opposed  by  a  mere  handful  of  men,  and  that  the  greater 
part  of  the  Christians  were  flying  from  the  field.  They  put  up 
loud  shouts  of  triumph.  While  some  continued  the  conflict 
with  redoubled  ardor,  others  pursued  the  fugitives,  hurling 
after  them  stones  and  darts,  and  discharging  showers  of  ar 
rows.  Many  of  the  Christians,  in  their  terror  and  their  igno 
rance  of  the  mountains,  rushed  headlong  from  the  brinks  of 
precipices,  and  were  dashed  in  pieces. 

Don  Alonzo  de  Aguilar  still  maintained  his  ground,  but, 
while  some  of  the  Moors  assailed  him  in  front,  others  galled 
him  with  all  kinds  of  missiles  from  the  impending  cliffs. 
Some  of  the  cavaliers,  seeing  the  hopeless  nature  of  the  con 
flict,  proposed  that  they  should  abandon  the  height  and  re 
treat  down  the  mountain:  "No,"  said  Don  Alonzo,  proudly: 
"never  did  the  banner  of  the  house  of  Aguilar  retreat  one  foot 
in  the  field  of  battle. "  He  had  scarcely  uttered  these  words, 
when  his  son  Don  Pedro  was  stretched  at  his  feet.  A  stone 
hurled  from  a  cliff  had  struck  out  two  of  his  teeth,  and  a  lance 
passed  quivering  through  his  thigh.  The  youth  attempted  to 
rise,  and,  with  one  knee  on  the  ground,  to  fight  by  the  side  of 
his  father.  Don  Alonzo,  finding  him  wounded,  urged  him  to 
quit  the  field.  " Fly,  my  son!"  said  he;  "let  us  not  put  every 
thing  at  venture  upon  one  hazard.  Conduct  thyself  as  a  good 
Christian,  and  live  to  comfort  and  honor  thy  mother." 

Don  Pedro  still  refused  to  leave  his  side.  Whereupon  Don 
Alonzo  ordered  several  of  his  followers  to  bear  him  off  by 
force.  His  friend  Don  Francisco  Alvarez  of  Cordova,  taking 
him  in  his  arms,  conveyed  him  to  the  quarters  of  the  count 
of  Ureiia,  who  had  halted  on  the  height,  at  some  distance  from 
the  scene  of  battle,  for  the  purpose  of  rallying  and  succoring 
the  fugitives.  Almost  at  the  same  moment,  the  count  beheld 
his  own  son,  Don  Pedro  Giron,  brought  in  grievously  wounded. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  365 

In  the  mean  time,  Don  Alonzo,  with  two  hundred  cavaliers, 
maintained  the  unequal  contest.  Surrounded  by  foes,  they 
fell,  one  after  another,  like  so  many  noble  stags  encircled 
by  the  hunters.  Don  Alonzo  was  the  last  survivor,  without 
horse,  and  almost  without  armor— his  corselet  unlaced,  and 
his  bosom  gashed  with  wounds.  Still  he  kept  a  brave  front 
towards  the  enemy,  and,  retiring  between  two  rocks,  defended 
himself  with  such  valor,  that  the  slain  lay  in  a  heap  before  him. 

He  was  assailed  in  this  retreat  by  a  Moor  of  surpassing 
strength  and  fierceness.  The.  contest  was  for  some  time  doubt 
ful  ;  but  Don  Alonzo  received  a  wound  in  the  head,  and  another 
in  the  breast,  that  made  him  stagger.  Closing  and  grappling 
with  his  foe,  they  had  a  desperate  struggle,  until  the  Christian 
cavalier,  exhausted  by  his  wounds,  fell  upon  his  back.  He 
still  retained  his  grasp  upon  his  enemy:  ''Think  not,"  cried 
he,  ' '  thou  hast  an  easy  prize ;  know  that  I  am  Don  Alonzo,  he 
of  Aguilar!"— "If  thou  art  Don  Alonzo,"  replied  the  Moor, 
"know  that  I  am  El  Feri  of  Ben  Estepar."  They  continued 
their  deadly  struggle,  and  both  drew  their  daggers;  but  Don 
Alonzo  was  exhausted  by  seven  ghastly  wounds :  while  he  was 
yet  struggling,  his  heroic  soul  departed  from  his  body,  and  he 
expired  in  the  grasp  of  the  Moor. 

Thus  fell  Alonzo  de  Aguilar,  the  mirror  of  Andalusian  chiv 
alry — one  of  the  most  powerful  grandees  of  Spain,  for  person, 
blood,  estate,  and  office.  For  forty  years  he  had  made  suc 
cessful  war  upon  the  Moors — in  childhood  by  his  household 
and  retainers,  in  manhood  by  the  prowess  of  his  arm,  and  in 
the  wisdom  and  valor  of  his  spirit.  His  pennon  had  always 
been  f oremest  in  danger ;  he  had  been  general  of  armies,  vice 
roy  of  Andalusia,  and  the  author  of  glorious  enterprises,  in 
which  kings  were  vanquished,  and  mighty  alcaydes  and  war 
riors  laid  low.  He  had  slain  many  Moslem  chiefs  with  his  own 
arm,  and  among  others  the  renowned  Ali  Atar  of  Loxa,  fight 
ing  foot  to  foot,  on  the  banks  of  the  Xenel.  His  judgment, 
discretion,  magnanimity,  and  justice  vied  with  his  prowess. 
He  was  the  fifth  lord  of  his  warlike  house  that  fell  in  battle 
with  the  Moors. 

"His  soul,"  observes  the  worthy  padre  Abarca,  "it  is  be 
lieved,  ascended  to  heaven,  to  receive  the  reward  of  so  Chris 
tian  a  captain ;  for  that  very  day  he  had  armed  himself  with 
the  sacraments  of  confession  and  communion. "  * 

*  Abacra,  Anales  de  Aragon,  Key  xxx.  cap.  ii. 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

The  Moors,  elated  with  their  success,  pursued  the  fugitive 
Christians  down  the  denies  and  sides  of  the  mountains.  It 
was  with  the  utmost  difficulty  that  the  count  de  Urena  could 
bring  off  a  remnant  of  his  forces  from  that  disastrous  height. 
Fortunately,  on  the  lower  slope  of  the  mountain,  they  found 
the  rear-guard  of  the  army,  led  by  the  count  de  Cifuentes, 
who  had  crossed  the  brook  and  the  ravine  to  come  to  their 
assistance.  As  the  fugitives  came  flying  in  headlong  terror 
down  the  mountain,  it  was  with  difficulty  the  count  kept  his 
own  troops  from  giving  way  in  panic,  and  retreating  in  con 
fusion  across  the  brook.  He  succeeded,  however,  in  maintain 
ing  order,  in  rallying  the  fugitives,  and  checking  the  fury  of 
the  Moors :  then,  taking  his  station  on  a  rocky  eminence,  he 
maintained  his  post  until  morning;  sometimes  sustaining 
violent  attacks,  at  other  times  rushing  forth  and  making 
assaults  upon  the  enemy.  When  morning  dawned,  the 
Moors  ceased  to  combat,  and  drew  up  to  the  summit  of  the 
mountain. 

It  was  then  that  the  Christians  had  time  to  breathe,  and  to 
ascertain  the  dreadful  loss  they  had  sustained.  Among  the 
many  valiant  cavaliers  who  had  fallen,  was  Don  Francisco 
Ramirez  of  Madrid,  who  had  been  captain-general  of  artillery 
throughout  the  war  of  Granada,  and  had  contributed  greatly 
by  his  valor  and  ingenuity  to  that  renowned  conquest.  But 
all  other  griefs  and  cares  were  forgotten,  in  anxiety  for  the 
fate  of  Don  Alonzo  de  Aguilar.  His  son,  Don  Pedro  de  Cor 
dova,  had  been  brought  off  with  great  difficulty  from  the  bat 
tle,  and  afterwards  lived  to  be  marques  of  Priego ;  but  of  Don 
Alonzo  nothing  was  known,  except  that  he  was  left  with  a 
handful  of  cavaliers,  fighting  valiantly  against  an  overwhelm 
ing  force. 

As  the  rising  sun  lighted  up  the  red  cliffs  of  the  mountains, 
the  soldiers  watched  with  anxious  eyes,  if  perchance  his  pen 
non  might  be  descried,  fluttering  from  any  precipice  or  defile ; 
but  nothing  of  the  kind  was  to  be  seen.  The  trumpet-call  was 
repeatedly  sounded,  but  empty  echoes  alone  replied.  A  silence 
reigned  about  the  mountain  summit,  which  showed  that  the 
deadly  strife  was  over.  Now  and  then  a  wounded  warrior 
came  dragging  his  feeble  steps  from  among  the  clefts  and 
rocks;  but,  on  being  questioned,  he  shook  his  head  mournfully, 
and  could  tell  nothing  of  the  fate  of  his  commander. 

The  tidings  of  this  disastrous  defeat,  and  of  the  perilous 
situation  of  the  survivors,  reached  Icing  Ferdinand  at  Gran- 


THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA.  367 

ada ;  he  immediately  marched  at  the  head  of  all  the  chivalry  of 
his  court,  to  the  mountains  of  Honda.  His  presence,  with 
a  powerful  force,  soon  put  an  end  to  the  rebellion.  A  part  of 
the  Moors  were  suffered  to  ransom  themselves,  and  to  embark 
for  Africa;  others  were  made  to  embrace  Christianity;  and 
those  of  the  towns  where  the  Christian  missionaries  had  been 
massacred  were  sold  as  slaves.  From  the  conquered  Moors, 
the  mournful  but  heroic  end  of  Alonzo  de  Aguilar  was  as 
certained. 

On  the  morning  after  the  battle,  when  the  Moors  came  to 
strip  and  bury  the  dead,  the  body  of  Don  Alonzo  was  found, 
among  those  of  more  than  two  hundred  of  his  followers,  many 
of  them  alcaydes  and  cavaliers  of  distinction.  Though  the 
person  of  Don  Alonzo  was  well  known  to  the  Moors,  being  so 
distinguished  among  them  both  in  peace  and  war,  yet  it  was 
so  covered  and  disfigured  with  wounds,  that  it  could  with 
difficulty  be  recognized.  They  preserved  it  with  great  care, 
and,  on  making  their  submission,  delivered  it  up  to  king  Ferdi 
nand.  It  was  conveyed  with  great  state  to  Cordova,  amidst 
the  tears  and  lamentations  of  all  Andalusia.  When  the  funeral 
train  entered  Cordova,  and  the  inhabitants  saw  the  coffin  con 
taining  the  remains  of  their  favorite  hero,  and  the  war-horse, 
led  in  mournful  trappings,  on  which  they  had  so  lately  seen 
him  sally  forth  from  their  gates,  there  was  a  general  burst  of 
grief  throughout  the  city.  The  body  was  interred,  with  great 
pomp  and  solemnity,  in  the  church  of  St.  Hypolito. 

Many  years  afterwards,  his  grand-daughter,  Doiia  Catalina 
of  Aguilar  and  Cordova,  marchioness  of  Priego,  caused  his 
tomb  to  be  altered.  On  examining  the  body,  the  head  of  a 
lance  was  found  among  the  bones,  received  without  doubt 
among  the  wounds  of  his  last  mortal  combat.  The  name  of 
this  accomplished  and  Christian  cavalier  has  ever  remained  a 
popular  theme  of  the  chronicler  and  poet,  and  is  endeared  to 
the  public  memory  by  many  of  the  historical  ballads  and 
songs  of  his  country.  For  a  long  time  the  people  of  Cordova 
were  indignant  at  the  brave  count  de  Urena,  who  they  thought 
had  abandoned  Don  Alonzo  in  his  extremity ;  but  the  Castilian 
monarch  acquitted  him  of  all  charge  of  the  kind,  and  con 
tinued  him  in  honor  and  office.  It  was  proved  that  neither  he 
nor  his  people  could  succor  Don  Alonzo,  or  even  know  of  his 
peril,  from  the  darkness  of  the  night.  There  is  a  mournful 
little  Spanish  ballad  or  romance,  which  breathes  the  public 
grief  on  this  occasion ;  and  the  populace,  on  the  return  of  the 


368  THE  CONQUEST  OF  GRANADA. 

count  de  Ureiia  to  Cordova,  assailed  him  with  one  of  its  plain 
tive  and  reproachful  verses:— 


Count  Urena!  count  Urefia  J 
Tell  us,  where  is  Don  Alonzo! 

(Dezid  Conde  de  Urefia! 
Don  Alonzo,  donde  queda?)* 


Bleda,  L.  5,  c.  26. 


•THE  EN1? 


CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 


WASHINGTON    IRTING. 


CHICAGO,    NEW   YORK,    AND   SAN   FRANCISCO: 

BELFORD,    CLARKE   &   CO.. 


PUBLISHERS. 


PREFACE. 


FEW  events  in  history  have  been  so  signal  and  striking  in 
their  main  circumstances,  and  so  overwhelming  and  enduring 
in  their  consequences,  as  that  of  the  conquest  of  Spain  by  the 
Saracens ;  yet  there  are  few  where  the  motives,  and  characters, 
and  actions  of  the  agents  have  been  enveloped  in  more  doubt 
and  contradiction.  As  in  the  memorable  story  of  the  Fall  of 
Troy,  we  have  to  make  out,  as  well  as  we  can,  the  veritable  de 
tails  through  the  mists  of  poetic  fiction ;  yet  poetry  has  so  com 
bined  itself  with,  and  lent  its  magic  colouring  to,  every  fact, 
that  to  strip  it  away  would  be  to  reduce  the  story  to  a  meagre 
skeleton  and  rob  it  of  all  its  charms.  The  storm  of  Moslem  in 
vasion  that  swept  so  suddenly  over  the  peninsula,  silenced  for 
a  time  the  faint  voice  of  the  muse,  and  drove  the  sons  of  learn 
ing  from  their  cells.  The  pen  was  thrown  aside  to  grasp  the 
sword  and  spear,  and  men  were  too  much  taken  up  with  bat 
tling  against  the  evils  which  beset  them  on  every  side,  to  find 
time  or  inclination  to  record  them. 

When  the  nation  had  recovered  in  some  degree  from  the 
effects  of  this  astounding  blow,  or  rather,  had  become  accus 
tomed  to  the  tremendous  reverse  which  it  produced,  and  sage 
men  sought  to  inquire  and  write  the  particulars,  it  was  too  late 
to  ascertain  them  in  their  exact  verity.  The  gloom  and  melan 
choly  that  had  overshadowed  the  land,  had  given  birth  to  a 
thousand  superstitious  fancies ;  the  woes  and  terrors  of  the  past 
were  clothed  with  supernatural  miracles  and  portents,  and  the 
actors  in  the  fearful  drama  had  already  assumed  the  dubious 
characteristics  of  romance.  Or  if  a  writer  from  among  the  con 
querors  undertook  to  touch  upon  the  theme,  it  was  embellished 
with  all  the  wild  extravagancies  of  an  oriental  imagination; 
which  afterwards  stole  into  the  graver  works  of  the  monkish 
historians. 

Hence,  the  earliest  chronicles  which  treat  of  the  downfall  of 
Spain,  are  apt  to  be  tinctured  with  those  saintly  miracles  which 


4  PREFACE. 

savour  of  the  pious  labours  of  the  cloister,  or  those  fanciful  fic 
tions  that  betray  their  Arabian  authors.  Yet,  from  these  apoc 
ryphal  sources,  the  most  legitimate  and  accredited  Spanish 
histories  have  taken  their  rise,  as  pure  rivers  may  be  traced 
up  to  the  fens  and  mantled  pools  of  a  morass.  It  is  true,  the 
authors,  with  cautious  discrimination,  have  discarded  those  par 
ticulars  too  startling  for  belief,  and  have  culled  only  such  as, 
from  their  probability  and  congruity,  might  be  safely  recorded 
as  historical  facts ;  yet,  scarce  one  of  these  but  has  been  con 
nected  in  the  original  with  some  romantic  fiction,  and,  even  in 
its  divorced  state,  bears  traces  of  its  former  alliance. 

To  discard,  however,  every  thing  wild  and  marvellous  in  this 
portion  of  Spanish  history,  is  to  discard  some  of  its  most  beau 
tiful,  instructive,  and  national  features ;  it  is  to  judge  of  Spain 
by  the  standard  of  probability  suited  to  tamer  and  more  pro 
saic  countries.  Spain  is  virtually  a  land  of  poetry  and  ro 
mance,  where  every-day  life  partakes  of  adventure,  and  where 
the  least  agitation  or  excitement  carries  every  thing  up  into  ex 
travagant  enterprise  and  daring  exploit.  The  Spaniards,  in  all 
ages,  have  been  of  swelling  and  braggart  spirit,  soaring  in 
thought,  pompous  in  word,  and  valiant,  though  vain-glorious, 
in  deed.  Their  heroic  aims  have  transcended  the  cooler  con 
ceptions  of  their  neighbours,  and  their  reckless  daring  has 
borne  them  on  to  achievements  which  prudent  enterprise  could 
never  have  accomplished.  Since  the  time,  too,  of  the  conquest 
and  occupation  of  their  country  by  the  Arabs,  a  strong  infusion 
of  oriental  magnificence  has  entered  into  the  national  charac 
ter,  and  rendered  the  Spaniard  distinct  from  every  other  na 
tion  of  Europe. 

In  the  following  pages,  therefore,  the  author  has  ventured  to 
dip  more  deeply  into  the  enchanted  fountains  of  old  Spanish 
chronicles,  than  has  usually  been  done  by  those  who,  in  modern 
times,  have  treated  of  the  eventful  period  of  the  conquest ;  but  in 
so  doing,  he  trusts  he  will  illustrate  more  fully  the  character  of 
the  people  and  the  times.  He  has  thought  proper  to  throw  these 
records  into  the  form  of  legends,  not  claiming  for  them  the  au 
thenticity  of  sober  history,  yet  giving  nothing  that  has  not 
historical  foundation.  All  the  facts  herein  contained,  however 
extravagant  some  of  them  may  be  deemed,  will  be  found  in  the 
works  of  sage  and  reverend  chroniclers  of  yore,  growing  side 
by  side  with  long  acknowledged  truths,  and  might  be  supported 
by  learned  and  imposing  references  in  the  margin. 


LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN, 


THE  LEGEND   OF  DON  RODERICK.* 


CHAPTER  I. 

OF  THE   ANCIENT    INHABITANTS    OF    SPAIN— OF    THE    MISRULE    OF 
WITIZA  THE  WICKED. 

SPAIN,  or  Iberia  as  it  was  called  in  ancient  days,  has  been  a 
country  harassed  from  the  earliest  times  by  the  invader.  The 
Celts,  the  Greeks,  the  Phenicians,  the  Carthaginians,  by  turns 
or  simultaneously,  infringed  its  territories,  drove  the  native 
Iberians  from  their  rightful  homes,  and  established  colonies 
and  founded  cities  in  the  land.  It  subsequently  fell  into  the 
all-grasping  power  of  Rome,  remaining  for  some  time  a  subju 
gated  province ;  and  when  that  gigantic  empire  crumbled  into 
pieces,  the  Suevi,  the  Alani,  and  the  Vandals,  those  barbarians 
of  the  north,  overran  and  ravaged  this  devoted  country,  and 
portioned  out  the  soil  among  them. 

Their  sway  was  not  of  long  duration.  In  the  fifth  century 
the  Goths,  who  were  then  the  allies  of  Rome,  undertook  the  re- 
conquest  of  Iberia,  and  succeeded,  after  a  desperate  struggle  ol 
three  years'  duration.  They  drove  before  them  the  barbarous 
hordes,  their  predecessors,  intermarried  and  incorporated 
themselves  with  the  original  inhabitants,  and  founded  a  power 
ful  and  splendid  empire,  comprising  the  Iberian  peninsula, 
the  ancient  Narbonnaise,  afterwards  called  Gallia  Gotica,  or 

*  Many  of  the  facts  in  this  legend  are  taken  from  an  old  chronicle,  written  in 
quaint  and  antiquated  Spanish,  and  professing  to  be  a  translation  from  the  Arabian 
chronicle  of  the  Moor  Rasis,  by  Mohammed,  a  Moslem  writer,  and  Gil  Perez,  a  Span 
ish  priest.  It  is  supposed  to  be  a  piece  of  literary  mosaic  work,  made  up  from  both 
Spanish  and  Arabian  chronicles:  yet,  from  this  work  most  of  the  Spanish  historian* 
have  drawn  their  particulars  relative  to  the  fortunes  of  Don  Roderick. 


8  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

Gothic  Gaul,  and  a  part  of  the  African  coast  called  Tingitania. 
A  new  nation  was,  in  a  manner,  produced  by  this  mixture  of 
the  Goths  and  Iberians.  Sprung  from  a  union  of  warrior  races, 
reared  and  nurtured  amidst  the  din  of  arms,  the  Gothic  Span 
iards,  if  they  may  be  so  termed,  were  a  warlike,  unquiet,  yet 
high-minded  and  heroic  people.  Their  simple  and  abstemious 
habits,  their  contempt  for  toil  and  suffering,  and  their  love  of 
daring  enterprise,  fitted  them  for  a  soldier's  life.  So  addicted 
were  they  to  war  that,  when  they  had  no  external  foes  to  con 
tend  with,  they  fought  with  one  another ;  and,  when  engaged 
in  battle,  says  an  old  chronicler,  the  very  thunders  and  light 
nings  of  heaven  could  not  separate  them.* 

For  two  centuries  and  a  half  the  Gothic  power  remained  un 
shaken,  and  the  sceptre  was  wielded  by  twenty-five  successive 
kings.  The  crown  was  elective,  in  a  council  of  palatines,  com 
posed  of  the  bishops  and  nobles,  who,  while  they  swore  alle 
giance  to  the  newly-made  sovereign,  bound  him  by  a  recipro 
cal  oath  to  be  faithful  to  his  trust.  Their  choice  was  made 
from  among  the  people,  subject  only  to  one  condition,  that  the 
king  should  be  of  pure  Gothic  blood.  But  though  the  crown 
was  elective  in  principle,  it  gradually  became  hereditary  from 
usage,  and  the  power  of  the  sovereign  grew  to  be  almost  abso 
lute.  The  king  was  commander-in-chief  of  the  armies;  the 
whole  patronage  of  the  kingdom  was  in  his  hands ;  he  sum 
moned  and  dissolved  the  national  councils;  he  made  and  re 
voked  laws  according  to  his  pleasure ;  and,  having  ecclesiasti 
cal  supremacy,  he  exercised  a  sway  even  over  the  consciences 
of  his  subjects. 

The  Goths,  at  the  time  of  their  inroad,  were  stout  adherents 
to  the  Arian  doctrines ;  but  after  a  time  they  embraced  the 
Catholic  faith,  which  was  maintained  by  the  native  Spaniards 
free  from  many  of  the  gross  superstitions  of  the  church  at 
Borne,  and  this  unity  of  faith  contributed  more  than  any  thing 
else  to  blend  and  harmonize  the  two  races  into  one.  The  bish 
ops  and  other  clergy  were  exemplary  in  their  lives,  and  aided 
to  promote  the  influence  of  the  laws  and  maintain  the  authority 
of  the  state.  The  fruits  of  regular  and  secure  government  were 
manifest  in  the  advancement  of  agriculture,  commerce,  and  the 
peaceful  arts ;  and  in  the  increase  of  wealth,  of  luxury,  and  re 
finement  ;  but  there  was  a  gradual  decline  of  the  simple,  hardy, 


*  Florian  de  Ocampo,  lib.  3,  c.  12.    Justin,  Abrev.  Trog.  Pomp.  L.  44.    Bleda, 
Cronica,  L.  2,  c.  3. 


THE  LEGEND   OF  DON  RODERICK.  9 

and  warlike  habits  that  had  distinguished  the  nation  in  its 
semi-barbarous  days. 

Such  was  the  state  of  Spain  when,  in  the  year  of  Redemption 
701,  Witiza  was  elected  to  the  Gothic  throne.  The  beginning 
of  his  reign  gave  promise  of  happy  days  to  Spain.  He  redressed 
grievances,  moderated  the  tributes  of  his  subjects,  and  con 
ducted  himself  with  mingled  mildness  and  energy  in  the  ad 
ministration  of  the  laws.  In  a  little  while,  however,  he  threw 
off  the  mask,  and  showed  himself  in  his  true  nature,  cruel  and 
luxurious. 

Two  of  his  relatives,  sons  of  a  preceding  king,  awakened  his 
jealousy  for  the  security  of  his  throne.  One  of  them,  named 
Favila,  duke  of  Cantabria,  he  put  to  death,  and  would  have  in 
flicted  the  same  fate  upon  his  son  Pelayo,  but  that  the  youth 
was  beyond  his  reach,  being  preserved  by  Providence  for  the 
future  salvation  of  Spain.  The  other  object  of  his  suspicion 
was  Theodofredo,  who  lived  retired  from  court.  The  violence 
of  Witiza  reached  him  even  in  his  retirement.  His  eyes  were 
put  out,  and  he  was  immured  within  a  castle  at  Cordova.  Rod 
erick,  the  youthful  son  of  Theodofredo,  escaped  to  Italy,  where 
he  received  protection  from  the  Romans. 

Witiza,  now  considering  himself  secure  upon  the  throne, 
gave  the  reins  to  his  licentious  passions,  and  soon,  by  his 
tyranny  and  sensuality,  acquired  the  appellation  of  Witiza 
the  Wicked.  Despising  the  old  Gothic  continence,  and  yield 
ing  to  the  example  of  the  sect  of  Mahomet,  which  suited  his 
lascivious  temperament,  he  indulged  in  a  plurality  of  wives 
and  concubines,  encouraging  his  subjects  to  do  the  same.  Nay, 
he  even  sought  to  gain  the  sanction  of  the  church  to  his  ex 
cesses,  promulgating  a  law  by  which  the  clergy  were  released 
from  their  vows  of  celibacy,  and  permitted  to  marry  and  to 
entertain  paramours. 

The  sovereign  Pontiff  Constantine  threatened  to  depose  and 
excommunicate  him,  unless  he  abrogated  this  licentious  law; 
but  Witiza  set  him  at  defiance,  threatening,  like  his  Gothic 
predecessor  Alaric,  to  assail  the  eternal  city  with  his  troops, 
and  make  spoil  of  her  accumulated  treasures.*  "We  will 
adorn  our  damsels, "  said  he,  "with  the  jewels  of  Rome,  and 
replenish  our  coffers  from  the  mint  of  St.  Peter." 

Some  of  the  clergy  opposed  themselves  to  the  innovating 
spirit  of  the  monarch,  and  endeavoured  from  the  pulpits  to 

*  Chron.  de  Luitprando,  709.   Abarca,  Anales  de  Aragon  (el  Mahometismo,  Fol.  5). 


10  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

rally  the  people  to  the  pure  doctrines  of  their  faith;  but  they 
were  deposed  from  their  sacred  office,  and  banished  as  sedi 
tious  mischief-makers.  The  church  of  Toledo  continued  re 
fractory  ;  the  archbishop  Sindaredo,  it  is  true,  was  disposed  to 
accommodate  himself  to  the  corruptions  of  the  times,  but  the 
prebendaries  battled  intrepidly  against  the  new  laws  of  the 
monarch,  and  stood  manfully  in  defence  of  their  vows  of  chas 
tity.  ' '  Since  the  church  of  Toledo  will  not  yield  itself  to  our 
will,"  said  Witiza,  "it  shall  have  two  husbands."  So  saying, 
he  appointed  his  own  brother  Oppas,  at  that  time  archbishop 
of  Seville,  to  take  a  seat  with  Sindaredo  in  the  episcopal  chair 
of  Toledo,  and  made  him  primate  of  Spain.  He  was  a  priest 
after  his  own  heart,  and  seconded  him  in  all  his  profligate 
abuses. 

It  was  in  vain  the  denunciations  of  the  church  were  fulmi 
nated  from  the  chair  of  St.  Peter;  Witiza  threw  off  all  alle 
giance  to  the  Roman  Pontiff,  threatening  with  pain  of  death 
those  who  should  obey  the  papal  mandates.  "We  will  suffer 
no  foreign  ecclesiastic,  with  triple  crown,"  said  he,  "to  domi 
neer  over  our  dominions." 

The  Jews  had  been  banished  from  the  country  during  the 
preceding  reign,  but  Witiza  permitted  them  to  return,  and 
even  bestowed  upon  their  synagogues  privileges  of  which  he 
had  despoiled  the  churches.  The  children  of  Israel,  when  scat 
tered  throughout  the  earth  by  the  fall  of  Jerusalem,  had  car 
ried  with  them  into  other  lands  the  gainful  arcana  of  traffic, 
and  were  especially  noted  as  opulent  money-changers  and 
curious  dealers  in  gold  and  silver  and  precious  stones ;  on  this 
occasion,  therefore,  they  were  enabled,  it  is  said,  to  repay  the 
monarch  for  his  protection  by  bags  of  money,  and  caskets  of 
sparkling  gems,  the  rich  product  of  their  oriental  commerce. 

The  kingdom  at  this  time  enjoyed  external  peace,  but  there 
were  symptoms  of  internal  discontent.  Witiza  took  the  alarm ; 
he  remembered  the  ancient  turbulence  of  the  nation,  and  its 
proneness  to  internal  feuds.  Issuing  secret  orders,  therefore, 
in  all  directions,  he  dismantled  most  of  the  cities,  and  demol 
ished  the  castles  and  fortresses  that  might  serve  as  rallying 
points  for  the  factious.  He  disarmed  the  people  also,  and  con 
verted  the  weapons  of  war  into  the  implements  of  peace.  It 
seemed,  in  fact,  as  if  the  millennium  were  dawning  upon  the 
land,  for  the  sword  was  beaten  into  a  ploughshare,  and  the 
spear  into  a  pruning-hoo»c. 

While  thus  the  ancient  martial  fire  of  the  nation  was  extin- 


THE  LEGEND  OF  DON  RODERICK  .      H 

guished,  its  morals  likewise  were  corrupted.  The  altars  were 
abandoned,  the  churches  closed,  wide  disorder  and  sensuality 
prevailed  throughout  the  land,  so  that,  according  to  the  old 
chroniclers,  within  the  compass  of  a  few  short  years,  "  Witiza 
the  Wicked  taught  all  Spain  to  sin." 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  RISE  OF  DON  RODERICK— HIS  GOVERNMENT. 

WOE  to  the  ruler  who  founds  his  hope  of  sway  on  the  weak 
ness  or  corruption  of  the  people.  The  very  measures  taken 
by  Witiza  to  perpetuate  his  power  ensured  his  downfall. 
While  the  whole  nation,  under  his  licentious  rule,  was  sink 
ing  into  vice  and  effeminacy,  and  the  arm  of  war  was 
unstrung,  the  youthful  Roderick,  son  of  Theodofredo,  was 
training  up  for  action  in  the  stern  but  wholesome  school  of 
adversity.  He  instructed  himself  in  the  use  of  arms ;'  became 
adroit  and  vigorous  by  varied  exercises ;  learned  to  despise  all 
danger,  and  inured  himself  to  hunger  and  watchfulness  and 
the  rigour  of  the  seasons. 

His  merits  and  misfortunes  procured  him  many  friends 
among  the  Romans ;  and  when,  being  arrived  at  a  fitting  age, 
he  undertook  to  revenge  the  wrongs  of  his  father  and  his 
kindred,  a  host  of  brave  and  hardy  soldiers  flocked  to  his 
standard.  With  these  he  made  his  sudden  appearance  in 
Spain.  The  friends  of  his  house  and  the  disaffected  of  all 
classes  hastened  to  join  him,  and  he  advanced  rapidly  and 
without  opposition,  through  an  unarmed  and  enervated  land. 

Witiza  saw  too  late  the  evil  he  had  brought  upon  himself. 
He  made  a  hasty  levy,  and  took  the  field  with  a  scantily 
equipped  and  undisciplined  host,  but  was  easily  routed  and 
made  prisoner,  and  the  whole  kingdom  submitted  to  Don 
Roderick. 

The  ancient  city  of  Toledo,  the  royal  residence  of  the  Gothic 
kings,  was  the  scene  of  high  festivity  and  solemn  ceremonial 
on  the  coronation  of  the  victor.  Whether  he  was  elected 
to  the  throne  according  to  the  Gothic  usage,  or  seized  it  by 
the  right  of  conquest,  is  a  matter  of  dispute  among  histori 
ans,  but  all  agree  that  the  nation  submitted  cheerfully  to  his 


12  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN.' 

sway,  and  looked  forward  to  prosperity  and  happiness  under 
their  newly  elevated  monarch.  His  appearance  and  character 
seemed  to  justify  the  anticipation.  He  was  in  the  splendour 
of  youth,  and  of  a  majestic  presence.  His  soul  was  bold  and 
daring,  and  elevated  by  lofty  desires.  He  had  a  sagacity  that 
penetrated  the  thoughts  of  men,  and  a  magnificent  spirit  that 
won  all  hearts.  Such  is  the  picture  which  ancient  writers  give 
of  Don  Roderick,  when;  with  all  the  stern  and  simple  virtues 
unimpaired,  which  he  had  acquired  in  adversity  and  exile,  and 
flushed  with  the  triumph  of  a  pious  revenge,  he  ascended  the 
Gothic  throne. 

Prosperity,  however,  is  the  real  touchstone  of  the  human 
heart  •,  no  sooner  did  Roderick  find  himself  in  possession  of  the 
crown,  than  the  love  of  power  and  the  jealousy  of  rule  were 
awakened  in  his  breast.  His  first  measure  was  against  Witiza, 
who  was  brought  in  chains  into  his  presence.  Roderick  be 
held  the  captive  monarch  with  an  unpitying  eye,  remembering 
only  his  wrongs  and  cruelties  to  his  father.  ' '  Let  the  evils  he 
has  inflicted  on  others  be  visited  upon  his  own  head,"  said  he; 
"as  he  did  unto  Theodofredo,  even  so  be  it  done  unto  him." 
So  the  eyes  of  Witiza  were  put  out,  and  he  was  thrown  into 
the  same  dungeon  at  Cordova  in  which  Theodofredo  had  lan 
guished.  There  he  passed  the  brief  remnant  of  his  days  in 
perpetual  darkness,  a  prey  to  wretchedness  and  remorse. 

Roderick  now  cast  an  uneasy  and  suspicious  eye  upon  Evan 
and  Siseburto,  the  two  sons  of  Witiza.  Fearful  lest  they 
should  foment  some  secret  rebellion,  he  banished  them  the 
kingdom.  They  took  refuge  in  the  Spanish  dominions  in 
Africa,  where  they  were  received  and  harboured  by  Requila, 
governor  of  Tangier,  out  of  gratitude  for  favours  which  he  had 
received  from  their  late  father.  There  they  remained,  to  brood 
over  their  fallen  fortunes,  and  to  aid  in  working  out  the  future 
woes  of  Spain. 

Their  uncle  Oppas,  bishop  of  Seville,  who  had  been  made 
co-partner,  by  Witiza,  in  the  archiepiscopal  chair  at  Toledo, 
would  have  likewise  fallen  under  the  suspicion  of  the  king ;  but 
he  was  a  man  of  consummate  art,  and  vast  exterior  sanctity, 
and  won  upon  the  good  graces  of  the  monarch.  He  was  suf 
fered,  therefore,  to  retain  his  sacred  office  at  Seville :  but  the 
see  of  Toledo  was  given  in  charge  to  the  venerable  Urbino;  and 
the  law  of  Witiza  was  revoked  that  dispensed  the  clergy  from 
their  vows  of  celibacy. 

The  jealousy  of  Roderick  for  the  security  of  his  crown  was 


.  THE  LEGEND  OF  DON  RODERICK.        13 

soon  again  aroused,  and  his  measures  were  prompt  and  severe. 
Having  been  informed  that  the  governors  of  certain  castles 
and  fortresses  in  Castie  land  Andalusia  had  conspired  against 
him,  he  caused  them  to  be  put  to  death  and  their  strongholds 
to  be  demolished.  He  now  went  on  to  imitate  the  pernicious 
policy  of  his  predecessor,  throwing  down  walls  and  towers, 
disarming  the  people,  and  thus  incapacitating  them  from  re 
bellion.  A  few  cities  were  permitted  to  retain  their  fortifica 
tions,  but  these  were  intrusted  to  alcaydes  in  whom  he  had 
especial  confidence ;  the  greater  part  of  the  kingdom  was  left 
defenceless;  the  nobles,  who  had  been  roused  to  temporary 
manhood  during  the  recent  stir  of  war,  sunk  back  into  the 
inglorious  state  of  inaction  which  had  disgraced  them  during 
the  reign  of  Witiza,  passing  their  time  in  feasting  and  dancing 
to  the  sound  of  loose  and  wanton  minstrelsy.*  It  was  scarcely 
possible  to  recognize  in  these  idle  wassailers  and  soft  voluptu 
aries  the  descendants  of  the  stern  and  frugal  warriors  of  the 
frozen  north ;  who  had  braved  flood  and  mountain,  and  heat 
and  cold,  and  had  battled  their  way  to  empire  across  half  a 
world  in  arms. 

They  surrounded  their  youthful  monarch,  it  is  true,  with  a 
blaze  of  military  pomp.  Nothing  could  surpass  the  splendour 
of  their  arms,  which  were  embossed  and  enamelled,  and  en 
riched  with  gold  and  jewels  and  curious  devices;  nothing 
could  be  more  gallant  and  glorious  than  their  array;  it  was 
all  plume  and  banner  and  silken  pageantry,  the  gorgeous 
trappings  for  tilt  and  tourney  and  courtly  revel ;  but  the  iron 
soul  of  war  was  wanting. 

How  rare  it  is  to  learn  wisdom  from  the  misfortunes  of 
others.  With  the  fate  of  Witiza  full  before  his  eyes,  Don 
Roderick  indulged  in  the  same  pernicious  errors,  and  was 
doomed,  in  like  manner,  to  prepare  the  way  for  his  own  per 
dition. 


CHAPTER  III. 

OF  THE  LOVES  OF  RODERICK  AND  THE  PRINCESS  ELYATA. 

As  yet  the  heart  of  Roderick,  occupied  by  the  struggles  of 
his  early  life,  by  warlike  enterprises,  and  by  the  inquietudes  of 
newly-gotten  power,  had  been  insensible  to  the  charms  of 

*  Mariana,  Hist.  Esp.  L.  6,  c.  21. 


14  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

women;  but  in  the  present  voluptuous  calm,  the  amorous 
propensities  of  his  nature  assumed  their  sway.  There  are 
divers  accounts  of  the  youthful  beauty  who  first  found  favour 
in  his  eyes,  and  was  elevated  by  him  to  the  throne.  We  fol 
low  in  our  legend  the  details  of  an  Arabian  chronicler,*  au 
thenticated  by  a  Spanish  poet.t  Let  those  who  dispute  our 
facts,  produce  better  authority  for  their  contradiction. 

Among  the  few  fortified  places  that  had  not  been  dismantled 
by  Don  Eoderick,  was  the  ancient  city  of  Denia,  situated  on 
the  Mediterranean  coast,  and  defended  on  a  rock-built  castle 
that  overlooked  the  sea. 

The  Alcayde  of  the  castle,  with  many  of  the  people  of  Denia, 
was  one  day  on  his  knees  in  the  cliapel,  imploring  the  Virgin 
to  allay  a  tempest  which  was  strewing  the  coast  with  wrecks, 
when  a  sentinel  brought  word  that  a  Moorish  cruiser  was 
standing  for  the  land.  The  Alcayde  gave  orders  to  ring  the 
alarm  bells,  light  signal  fires  on  the  hill  tops,  and  rouse  the 
country,  for  the  coast  was  subject  to  cruel  maraudings  from 
the  Barbary  curisers. 

In  a  little  while  the  horsemen  of  the  neighbourhood  were 
seen  pricking  along  the  beach,  armed  with  such  weapons  as 
they  could  find,  and  the  Alcayde  and  his  scanty  garrison  de 
scended  from  the  hill,  In  the  mean  time  the  Moorish  bark 
came  rolling  and  pitching  towards  the  land.  As  it  drew  near, 
the  rich  carving  and  gilding  with  which  it  was  decorated,  its 
silken  bandaroles  and  banks  of  crimson  oars,  showed  it  to  be 
no  warlike  vessel,  but  a  sumptuous  galiot  destined  for  state  and 
ceremony.  It  bore  the  marks  of  the  tempest ;  the  masts  were 
broken,  the  oars  shattered,  and  fragments  of  snowy  sails  and 
silken  awnings  were  fluttering  in  the  blast. 

As  the  galiot  grounded  upon  the  sand,  the  impatient  rabble 
rushed  into  the  surf  to  capture  and  make  spoil;  but  were 
awed  into  admiration  and  respect  by  the  appearance  of  the 
illustrious  company  on  board.  There  were  Moors  of  both 
sexes  sumptuously  arrayed,  and  adorned  with  precious  jewels, 
bearing  'the  demeanour  of  persons  of  lofty  rank.  Among  them 
shone  conspicuous  a  youthful  beauty,  magnificently  attired, 
to  whom  all  seemed  to  pay  reverence. 

Several  of  the  Moors  surrounded  her  with  drawn  swords, 
threatening  death  to  any  that  approached;  others  sprang 


*  Perdidade  EspaSa,  por  Abulcasim  Tarif  Abentarique,  lib.  1. 

*  Lope  de  Vega. 


THE  LEGEND  OF  DON  RODERICK.        15 

from  the  bark,  and  throwing  themselves  on  their  knees  before 
the  Alcayde,  implored  him,  by  his  honour  and  courtesy  as  a 
knight,  to  protect  a  royal  virgin  from  injury  and  insult. 

"  You  behold  be,  ore  you,"  said  they,  u  the  only  daughter  of 
the  king  of  Algiers,  he  betrothed  bride  of  the  son  of  the  king 
of  Tunis.  We  were  conducting  her  to  the  court  of  her  expect 
ing  bridegroom,  when  a  tempest  drove  us  from  our  course,  and 
compelled  us  to  take  refuge  on  your  coast.  Be  not  more  cruel 
than  the  tempest,  but  deal  nobly  with  that  which  even  sea  and 
storm  have  spared." 

The  Alcayde  listened  to  their  prayers.  He  conducted  the 
princess  and  her  train  to  the  castle,  where  every  honour  due 
to  her  rank  was  paid  her.  Some  of  her  ancient  attendants 
interceded  for  her  liberation,  promising  countless  sums  to  be 
paid  by  her  father  for  her  ransom;  but  the  Alcayde  turned  a 
deaf  ear  to  all  their  golden  offers.  "She  is  a  royal  captive," 
said  he ;  "it  belongs  to  my  sovereign  alone  to  dispose  of  her. " 
After  she  had  reposed,  therefore,  for  some  days  at  the  castle, 
and  recovered  from  the  fatigue  and  terror  of  the  seas,  he 
caused  her  to  be  conducted,  with  all  her  train,  in  magnificent 
state  to  the  court  of  Don  Eoderick. 

The  beautiful  Elyata  *  entered  Toledo  more  like  a  triumphant 
sovereign  than  a  captive.  A  chosen  band  of  Christian  horse 
men,  splendidly  armed,  appeared  to  wait  upon  her  as  a  mere 
guard  of  honour.  She  was  surrounded  by  the  Moorish  dam 
sels  of  her  train,  and  followed  by  her  own  Moslem  guards,  all 
attired  with  the  magnificence  that  had  been  intended  to  grace 
her  arrival  at  the  court  of  Tunis..  The  princess  was  arrayed 
in  bridal  robes,  woven  in  the  most  costly  looms  of  the  orient; 
her  diadem  sparkled  with  diamonds,  and  was  decorated  with 
the  rarest  plumes  of  the  bird  of  paradise,  and  even  the  silken 
trappings  of  her  palfrey,  which  swept  the  ground,  were  covered 
with  pearls  and  precious  stones.  As  this  brilliant  cavalcade 
crossed  the  bridge  of  the  Tagus,  all  Toledo  poured  forth  to  be 
hold  it,  and  nothing  was  heard  throughout  the  city  but  praises 
of  the  wonderful  beauty  of  the  princess  of  Algiers.  King 
Roderick  came  forth,  attended  by  the  chivalry  of  his  court,  to 
receive  the  royal  captive.  His  recent  voluptuous  life  had  dis 
posed  him  for  tender  and  amorous  affections,  and  at  the  first 
sight  of  the  beautiful  Elyata  he  was  enraptured  with  her 
charms.  Seeing  her  face  clouded  with  sorrow  and  anxiety, 

*  By  some  she  is  called  Zar'a. 


16  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

he  soothed  her  with  gentle  and  courteous  words,  and  conduct 
ing  her  to  a  royal  palace,  "  Behold,"  said  he,  "  thy  habitation, 
where  no  one  shall  molest  thee ;  consider  thyself  at  home  in 
the  mansion  of  thy  father,  and  dispose  of  r  .iy  thing  according 
to  thy  will." 

Here  the  princess  passed  her  time,  with  the  female  atten 
dants  who  had  accompanied  her  from  Algiers;  and  no  one 
but  the  king  was  permitted  to  visit  her,  who  daily  became 
more  and  more  enamoured  of  his  lovely  captive,  and  sought 
by  tender  assiduity  to  gain  her  affections.  The  distress  of  the 
princess  at  her  captivity  was  soothed  by  this  gentle  treatment. 
She  was  of  an  age  when  sorrow  cannot  long  hold  sway  over 
the  heart.  Accompanied  by  her  youthful  attendants,  she 
ranged  the  spacious  apartments  of  the  palace,  and  sported 
among  the  groves  and  alleys  of  its  garden.  Every  day  the 
remembrance  of  the  paternal  home  grew  less  and  less  painful, 
and  the  king  became  more  and  more  amiable  in  her  eyes;  and 
when,  at  length,  he  offered  to  share  his  heart  and  throne  with 
her,  she  listened  with  downcast  looks  and  kindling  blushes, 
but  with  an  air  of  resignation. 

One  obstacle  remained  to  the  complete  fruition  of  the  mon 
arch's  wishes,  and  this  was  the  religion  of  the  princess.  Kod- 
erick  forthwith  employed  the  archbishop  of  Toledo  to  instruct 
the  beautiful  Elyata  in  the  mysteries  of  the  Christian  faith. 
The  female  intellect  is  quick  in  perceiving  the  merits  of  new 
doctrines;  the  archbishop,  therefore,  soon  succeeded  in  con 
verting,  not  merely  the  princess,  but  most  of  her  attendants, 
and  a  day  was  appointed  for  their  public  baptism.  The  cere 
mony  was  performed  with  great  pomp  and  solemnity,  in  the 
presence  of  all  the  nobility  and  chivalry  of  the  court.  The 
princess  and  her  damsels,  clad  in  white,  walked  on  foot  to  the 
cathedral,  while  numerous  beautiful  children,  arrayed  as  an 
gels,  strewed  their  path  with  flowers;  and  the  archbishop 
meeting  them  at  the  portal,  received  them,  as  it  were,  into  the 
bosom  of  the  church.  The  princess  abandoned  her  Moorish 
appellation  of  Elyata,  and  was  baptized  by  the  name  of  Exilona, 
by  which  she  was  thenceforth  called,  and  has  generally  been 
known  in  history. 

The  nuptials  of  Roderick  and  the  beautiful  convert  took 
place  shortly  afterwards,  and  were  celebrated  with  great  mag 
nificence.  There  were  jousts,  and  tourneys,  and  banquets, 
and  other  rejoicings,  which  lasted  twenty  days,  and  were  at 
tended  by  the  principal  nobles  from  all  parts  of  Spain.  After 


THE  LEGEND   OF  DON  RODERICK.  17 

these  were  over,  such  of  the  attendants  of  the  princess  as  re 
fused  to  embrace  Christianity  and  desired  to  return  to  Africa, 
were  dismissed  with  munificent  presents ;  and  an  embassy  was 
sent  to  the  king  of  Algiers,  to  inform  him  of  the  nuptials  of  his 
daughter,  and  to  proffer  him  the  friendship  of  King  Roderick.* 


CHAPTER  IV. 

OF  COUNT  JULIAN. 

FOR  a  time  Don  Roderick  lived  happily  with  his  young  and 
beautiful  queen,  and  Toledo  was  the  seat  of  festivity  and  splen 
dour.  The  principal  nobles  throughout  the  kingdom  repaired 
to  his  court  to  pay  him  homage,  and  to  receive  his  commands ; 
and  none  were  more  devoted  in  their  reverence  than  those  who 
were  obnoxious  to  suspicion  from  their  connexion  with  the  late 
king. 

Among  the  foremost  of  these  was  Count  Julian,  a  man  des 
tined  to  be  infamously  renowned  in  the  dark  story  of  his  coun 
try's  woes.  He  was  of  one  of  the  proudest  Gothic  families, 
lord  of  Consuegra  and  Algeziras,  and  connected  by  marriage 
with  Witiza  and  the  Bishop  Oppas;  his  wife,  the  Countess 
Frandina,  being  their  sister.  In  consequence  of  this  connex 
ion,  and  of  his  own  merits,  he  had  enjoyed  the  highest  dig 
nities  and  commands,  being  one  of  the  Espatorios,  or  royal 
sword-bearers ;  an  office  of  the  greatest  confidence  about  the 
person  of  the  sovereign,  t  He  had,  moreover,  been  entrusted 
with  the  military  government  of  the  Spanish  possessions  on 
the  African  coast  of  the  strait,  which  at  that  time  were  threat 
ened  by  the  Arabs  of  the  East,  the  followers  of  Mahomet,  who 
were  advancing  their  victorious  standard  to  the  extremity  of 

*  "  Como  esta  Infanta  era  muy  hermosa,  y  el  Rey  [Don  Rodrigo]  dispuesta  y  gen- 
til  hombre,  entro  por  medio  el  amor  y  aficion,  y  junto  con  el  regalo  con  que  la  avia 
mandado  hospedar  y  servir  f  ul  causa  que  el  rey  persuadio  esta  Infanta,  que  si  se 
tornava  a  su  ley  de  christiano  la  tomaria  por  muger,  y  que  la  haria  sefiora  de  sus 
Reynos.  Con  esta  persuasion  ella  feu  contenta,  y  aviendose  vuelto  Christiana,  se 
caso  con  ella,  y  se  celebraron  sus  bodas  con  muchas  fiestas  y  regozijos,  conio  era 
razon." — Abulcasim,  Conq'st  de  Espan.  cap.  3. 

t  Condes  Espatorios;  so  called  from  the  drawn  swords  of  ample  size  and  breadth 
with  which  they  kept  guard  in  the  ante-chambers  of  the  Gothic  kings.  Comes 
Spathariorum,  custodum  corporis  Regis  Profectus.  Hunc  et  Propospatharium  ap- 
pellatuin  existimo.— Patr.  Pant,  de  Offic.  Goth. 


18  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

Western  Africa.  Count  Julian  established  his  seat  of  govern 
ment  at  Ceuta,  the  frontier  bulwark  and  one  of  the  far-famed 
gates  of  the  Mediterranean  Sea.  Here  he  boldly  faced,  and 
held  in  check,  the  torrent  of  Moslem  invasion. 

Don  Julian  was  a  man  of  an  active,  but  irregular  genius,  and 
a  grasping  ambition ;  he  had  a  love  for  power  and  grandeur,  in 
which  he  was  joined  by  his  haughty  countess ;  and  they  could 
ill  brook  the  downfall  of  their  house  as  threatened  by  the  fate 
of  Witiza.  They  had  hastened,  therefore,  to  pay  their  court 
to  the  newly  elevated  monarch,  and  to  assure  him  of  their 
fidelity  to  his  interests. 

Roderick  was  readily  persuaded  of  the  sincerity  of  Count 
Julian ;  he  was  aware  of  his  merits  as  a  soldier  and  a  governor, 
and  continued  him  in  his  important  command :  honouring  him 
with  many  other  marks  of  implicit  confidence.  Count  Julian 
sought  to  confirm  this  confidence  by  every  proof  of  devotion. 
It  was  a  custom  among  the  Goths  to  rear  many  of  the  children 
of  the  most  illustrious  families  in  the  royal  house]  told.  They 
served  as  pages  to  the  king,  and  handmaids  and  ladies  of  hon 
our  to  the  queen,  and  were  instructed  in  all  manner  of  accom 
plishments  befitting  their  gentle  blood.  When  about  to  depart 
for  Ceuta,  to  resume  his  command,  Don  Julian  brought  his 
daughter  Morinda  to  present  her  to  the  sovereigns.  She  was 
a  beautiful  virgin  that  had  not  as  yet  attained  to  womanhood. 
"  I  confide  her  to  your  protection,"  said  he  to  the  king,  "  to  be 
unto  her  as  a  father ;  and  to  have  her  trained  in  the  paths  of 
virtue.  I  can  leave  with  you  no  dearer  pledge  of  my  loyalty." 

King  Eoderick  received  the  timid  and  blushing  maiden  into 
his  paternal  care ;  promising  to  watch  over  her  happiness  with 
a  parent's  eye,  and  that  she  should  be  enrolled  among  the  most 
cherished  attendants  of  the  queen.  With  this  assurance  of  the 
welfare  of  his  child,  Count  Julian  departed,  well  pleased,  for 
his  government  at  Ceuta. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  STORY  OF  FLORINDA. 

THE  beautiful  daughter  of  Count  Julian  was  received  with 
great  favour  by  the  Queen  Exilona  and  admitted  among  the 
noble  damsels  that  attended  upon  her  person.  Here  she  lived 


THE  LEGEND  OF  DON  RODERICK.  19 

in  honour  and  apparent  security,  and  surrounded  by  innocent 
delights.  To  gratify  his  queen,  Don  Roderick  had  built  for  her 
rural  recreation  a  palace  without  the  walls  of  Toledo,  on  the 
banks  of  the  Tagus.  It  stood  in  the  midst  of  a  garden,  adorned 
after  the  luxurious  style  of  the  East.  The  air  was  perfumed 
by  fragrant  shrubs  and  flowers ;  the  groves  resounded  with  the 
song  of  the  nightingale,  while  the  gush  of  fountains  and  water 
falls,  and  the  distant  murmur  of  the  Tagus,  made  it  a  delight 
ful  retreat  during  fche  sultry  days  of  summer.  The  charm  of 
perfect  privacy  also  reigned  throughout  the  place,  for  the  gar 
den  walls  were  high,  and  numerous  guards  kept  watch  with 
out  to  protect  it  from  all  intrusion. 

In  this  delicious  abode,  more  befitting  an  oriental  voluptuary 
than  a  Gothic  king,  Don  Roderick  was  accustomed  to  while 
away  much  of  that  time  which  should  have  been  devoted  to 
the  toilsome  cares  of  government.  The  very  security  and 
peace  which  he  had  produced  throughout  his  dominions  by 
his  precautions  to  abolish  the  means  and  habitudes  of  war, 
had  effected  a  disastrous  change  in  his  character.  The  hardy 
and  heroic  qualities  which  had  conducted  him  to  the  throne, 
were  softened  in  the  lap  of  indulgence.  Surrounded  by  the 
pleasures  of  an  idle  and  effeminate  court,  and  beguiled  by  the 
example  of  his  degenerate  nobles,  he  gave  way  to  a  fatal  sen 
suality  that  had  lain  dormant  in  his  nature  during  the  virtu 
ous  days  of  his  adversity.  The  mere  love  of  female  beauty 
had  first  enamoured  him  of  Exilona,  and  the  same  passion, 
fostered  by  voluptuous  idleness,  now  betrayed  him  into  the 
commission  of  an  act  fatal  to  himself  and  Spain.  The  follow 
ing  is  the  story  of  his  error  as  gathered  from  an  old  chronicle 
and  legend. 

In  a  remote  part  of  the  palace  was  an  apartment  devoted  to 
the  queen.  It  was  like  an  eastern  harem,  shut  up  from  the 
foot  of  man,  and  where  the  king  himself  but  rarely  entered. 
It  had  its  own  courts,  and  gardens,  and  fountains,  where  the 
queen  was  wont  to  recreate  herself  with  her  damsels,  as  she 
had  been  accustomed  to  do  in  the  jealous  privacy  of  her  fa 
ther's  palace. 

One  sultry  day,  the  king,  instead  of  taking  his  siesta,  or 
mid-day  slumber,  repaired  to  this  apartment  to  seek  the 
society  of  the  queen.  In  passing  through  a  small  oratory, 
he  was  drawn  by  the  sound  of  female  voices  to  a  casement 
overhung  with  myrtles  and  jessamines.  It  looked  into  an 
interior  garden  or  court,  set  out  with  ^  tinge-trees,  in  the 


;;0  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

midst    of  which  was  a  marble    fountain,   surrounded  by  a 
grassy  bank,  enamelled  with  flowers. 

It  was  the  high  noontide  of  a  summer  day,  when,  in  sultry 
Spain,  the  landscape  trembles  to  the  eye,  and  all  nature  seeks 
repose,  except  the  grasshopper,  that  pipes  his  lulling  note 
to  the  herdsman  as  he  sleeps  beneath  the  shade. 

Around  the  fountain  were  several  of  the  damsels  of  the 
queen,  who,  confident  of  the  sacred  privacy  of  the  place,  were 
yielding  in  that  cool  retreat  to  the  indulgence  prompted  by  the 
season  and  the  hour.  Some  lay  asleep  on  the  flowery  bank ; 
others  sat  on  the  margin  of  the  fountain,  talking  and  laughing, 
as  they  bathed  their  feet  in  its  limpid  waters,  and  King  Rod 
erick  beheld  delicate  limbs  shining  through  the  wave,  that 
might  rival  the  marble  in  whiteness. 

Among  the  damsels  was  one  who  had  come  from  the  Bar- 
bary  coast  with  the  queen.  Her  complexion  had  the  dark 
tinge  of  Mauritania,  but  it  was  clear  and  transparent,  and  the 
deep  rich  rose  blushed  through  the  lovely  brown.  Her  eyes 
were  black  and  full  of  fire,  and  flashed  from  under  long  silken 
eyelashes. 

A  sportive  contest  arose  among  the  maidens  as  to  the  com 
parative  beauty  of  the  Spanish  and  Moorish  forms;  but  the 
Mauritanian  damsel  revealed  limbs  of  voluptuous  symmetry 
that  seemed  to  defy  all  rivalry. 

The  Spanish  beauties  were  on  the  point  of  giving  up  the 
contest,  when  they  bethought  themselves  of  the  young  Flo- 
rinda,  the  daughter  of  Count  Julian,  who  lay  on  the  grassy 
bank,  abandoned  to  a  summer  slumber.  The  soft  glow  of 
youth  and  health  mantled  on  her  cheek ;  her  fringed  eyelashes 
scarcely  covered  their  sleeping  orbs ;  her  moist  and  ruby  lips 
were  slightly  parted,  just  revealing  a  gleam  of  her  ivory  teeth, 
while  her  innocent  bosom  rose  and  fell  beneath  her  bodice, 
like  the  gentle  swelling  and  sinking  of  a  tranquil  sea.  There 
was  a  breathing  tenderness  and  beauty  in  the  sleeping  virgin, 
that  seemed  to  send  forth  sweetness  like  the  flowers  around 
her. 

" Behold,"  cried  her  companions  exultingly,  "the  champion 
of  Spanish  beauty !" 

In  their  playful  eagerness  they  half  disrobed  the  innocent 
Florinda  before  she  was  aware.  She  awoke  in  time,  however, 
to  escape  from  their  busy  hands;  but  enough  of  her  charms 
had  been  revealed  to  convince  the  monarch  that  they  were 
not  to  be  rivalled  by  the  rarest  beauties  of  Mauritania, 


THE  LEGEND  OF  DON  RODERICK.  21 

From  this  day  the  heart  of  Roderick  was  inflamed  with  a 
fatal  passion.  He  gazed  on  the  beautiful  Florinda  with  fervid 
desire,  and  sought  to  read  in  her  looks  whether  there  was 
levity  or  wantonness  in  her  bosom ;  but  the  eye  of  the  damsel 
ever  sunk  beneath  his  gaze,  and  remained  bent  on  the  earth  in 
virgin  modesty. 

It  was  in  vain  he  called  to  mind  the  sacred  trust  reposed 
in  him  by  Count  Julian,  and  the  promise  he  had  given  to 
watch  over  his  daughter  with  paternal  care;  his  heart  was 
vitiated  by  sensual  indulgence,  and  the  consciousness  of  power 
had  rendered  him  selfish  in  his  gratifications. 

Being  one  evening  in  the  garden  where  the  queen  was  divert 
ing  herself  with  her  damsels,  and  coming  to  the  fountain 
where  he  had  beheld  the  innocent  maidens  at  their  sport,  he 
could  no  longer  restrain  the  passion  that  raged  within  his 
breast.  Seating  himself  beside  the  fountain,  he  called  Flo 
rinda  to  him  to  draw  forth  a  thorn  which  had  pierced  his 
hand.  The  maiden  knelt  at  his  feet,  to  examine  his  hand, 
and  the  touch  of  her  slender  fingers  thrilled  through  his  veins. 
As  she  knelt,  too,  her  amber  locks  fell  in  rich  ringlets  about 
her  beautiful  head,  her  innocent  bosom  palpitated  beneath 
the  crimson  bodice,  and  her  timid  blushes  increased  the  efful 
gence  of  her  charms. 

Having  examined  the  monarch's  hand  in  vain,  she  looked 
up  in  his  face  with  artless  perplexity. 

"Senor,"  said  she,  "I  can  find  no  thorn,  nor  any  sign  of 
wound." 

Don  Roderick  grasped  her  hand  and  pressed  it  to  his  heart. 
"It  is  here,  lovely  Florinda!"  said  he.  "It  is  here!  and  thou 
alone  canst  pluck  it  forth !" 

"My  lord!"  exclaimed  the  blushing  and  astonished  maiden. 

"Florinda!"  said  Don  Roderick,  "dost  thou  love  me  ?" 

"Senor,"  said  she,  "my  father  taught  me  to  love  and 
reverence  you.  He  confided  me  to  your  care  as  one  who 
would  be  as  a  parent  to  me,  when  he  should  be  far  distant, 
serving  your  majesty  with  life  and  loyalty.  May  God  incline 
your  majesty  ever  to  protect  me  as  a  father."  So  saying,  the 
maiden  dropped  her  eyes  to  the  ground,  and  continued  kneel 
ing  :  but  her  countenance  had  become  deadly  pale,  and  as  she 
knelt  she  trembled. 

"Florinda,"  said  the  king,  "either  thou  dost  not,  or  thou 
wilt  not  understand  me.  I  would  have  thee  love  me,  not  as  a 
father,  nor  as  a  monarch,  but  as  one  who  adores  thee.  Why 


22  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

dost  thou  start  ?  No  one  shall  know  our  loves ;  and,  moreover, 
the  love  of  a  monarch  inflicts  no  degradation  like  the  love  of 
a  common  man — riches  and  honours  attend  upon  it.  I  will 
advance  thee  to  rank  and  dignity,  and  place  thee  above  the 
proudest  females  of  my  court.  Thy  father,  too,  shall  be  more 
exalted  and  endowed  than  any  noble  in  my  realm." 

The  soft  eye  of  Florinda  kindled  at  these  words.  ' '  Seilor, " 
said  she,  "the  line  I  spring  from  can  receive  no  dignity  by 
means  so  vile ;  and  my  father  would  rather  die  than  purchase 
rank  and  power  by  the  dishonour  of  his  child.  But  I  see," 
continued  she,  "that  your  majesty  speaks  in  this  manner 
only  to  try  me.  You  may  have  thought  me  light  and  simple, 
and  unworthy  to  attend  upon  the  queen.  I  pray  your  majesty 
to  pardon  me,  that  I  have  taken  your  pleasantry  in  such 
serious  part." 

In  this  way  the  agitated  maiden  sought  to  evade  the  ad 
dresses  of  the  monarch,  but  still  her  cheek  was  blanched,  and 
her  lip  quivered  as  she  spake. 

The  king  pressed  her  hand  to  his  lips  with  fervour.  "May 
ruin  seize  me,"  cried  he,  "  if  I  speak  to  prove  thee.  My  heart, 
my  kingdom,  are  at  thy  command.  Only  be  mine,  and  thou 
shalt  rule  absolute  mistress  of  myself  and  my  domains." 

The  damsel  rose  from  the  earth  where  she  had  hitherto 
knelt,  and  her  whole  countenance  glowed  with  virtuous  in 
dignation.  "My  lord,"  said  she,  "I  am  your  subject,  and  in 
your  power ;  take  my  life  if  it  be  your  pleasure,  but  nothing 
shall  tempt  me  to  commit  a  crime  which  would  be  treason  to 
the  queen,  disgrace  to  my  father,  agony  to  my  mother,  and 
perdition  to  myself."  With  these  words  she  left  the  garden, 
and  the  king,  for  the  moment,  was  too  much  awed  by  her 
indignant  virtue  to  oppose  her  departure. 

We  shall  pass  briefly  over  the  succeeding  events  of  the  story 
of  Florinda,  about  which  so  much  has  been  said  and  sung  by 
chronicler  and  bard :  for  the  sober  page  of  history  should  be 
carefully  chastened  from  all  scenes  that  might  inflame  a  wan 
ton  imagination,— leaving  them  to  poems  and  romances,  and 
such  like  highly  seasoned  works  of  fantasy  and  recreation. 

Let  it  suffice  to  say,  that  Don  Roderick  pursued  his  suit  to 
the  beautiful  Florinda,  his  passion  being  more  and  more  in 
flamed  by  the  resistance  of  the  virtuous  damsel.  At  length, 
forgetting  what  was  due  to  helpless  beauty,  to  his  own  honour 
as  a  knight,  and  his  word  as  a  sovereign,  he  triumphed  over 
her  weakness  by  base  and  unmanly  violence. 


TEE  LEGEND   OF  DON  RODERICK.  23 

There  are  not  wanting  those  who  affirm  that  the  hapless 
Florinda  lent  a  yielding  ear  to  the  solicitations  of  the  monarch, 
and  her  name  has  heen  treated  with  opprobrium  in  several  of 
the  ancient  chronicles  and  legendary  ballads  that  have  trans 
mitted,  from  generation  to  generation,  the  story  of  the  woes  of 
Spain.  In  very  truth,  however,  she  appears  to  have  been  a 
guiltless  victim,  resisting,  as  far  as  helpless  female  could  resist, 
the  arts  and  intrigues  of  a  powerful  monarch,  who  had  nought 
to  check  the  indulgence  of  his  will,  and  bewailing  her  disgrace 
with  a  poignancy  that  shows  how  dearly  she  had  prized  her 
honour. 

In  the  first  paroxysm  of  her  grief  she  wrote  a  letter  to  her 
father,  blotted  with  her  tears  and  almost  incoherent  from  her 
agitation.  " Would  to  God,  my  father,"  said  she,  "that  the 
earth  had  opened  and  swallowed  me  ere  I  had  been  reduced  to 
write  these  lines.  I  blush  to  tell  thee,  what  it  is  not  proper  to 
conceal.  Alas,  my  father !  thou  hast  entrusted  thy  lamb  to 
the  guardianship  of  the  lion.  Thy  daughter  has  been  dis 
honoured,  the  royal  cradle  of  the  Goths  polluted,  and  our  line 
age  insulted  and  disgraced.  Hasten,  my  father,  to  rescue  your 
child  from  the  power  of  the  spoiler,  and  to  vindicate  the  honour 
of  your  house." 

When  Florinda  had  written  these  lines,  she  summoned  a 
youthful  esquire,  who  had  been  a  page  in  the  service  of  her 
father.  "  Saddle  thy  steed,"  said  she,  "  and  if  thou  dost  aspire 
to  knightly  hortfcur,  or  hope  for  lady's  grace ;  if  thou  hast  fealty 
for  thy  lord,  or  devotion  to  his  daughter,  speed  swiftly  upon 
my  errand.  Rest  not,  halt  not,  spare  not  the  spur,  but  hie 
thee  day  and  night  until  thou  reach  the  sea;  take  the  first 
bark,  and  haste  with  sail  and  oar  to  Ceuta,  nor  pause  until 
thou  give  this  letter  to  the  count  my  father."  The  youth  put 
the  letter  in  his  bosom.  "Trust  me,  lady,"  said  he,  "I  will 
neither  halt,  nor  turn  aside,  nor  cast  a  look  behind,  until  I 
reach  Count  Julian."  He  mounted  his  fleet  steed,  sped  his 
way  across  the  bridge,  and  soon  left  behind  him  the  verdant 
valley  of  the  Tagus. 


24  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

DON  RODERICK  RECEIVES  AN    EXTRAORDINARY  EMBASSY. 

THE  heart  of  Don  Roderick  was  not  so  depraved  by  sensual 
ity,  but  that  the  wrong  he  had  been  guilty  of  toward  the  in 
nocent  Florinda,  and  the  disgrace  he  had  inflicted  on  her 
house,  weighed  heavy  on  his  spirits,  and  a  cloud  began  to 
gather  on  his  on:>,e  clear  and  un  wrinkled  brow. 

Heaven,  at  this  time,  say  the  old  Spanish  chronicles,  per 
mitted  a  marvellous  intimation  of  the  wrath  with  which  it  in 
tended  to  visit  the  monarch  and  his  people,  in  punishment  of 
their  sins;  nor  are  we,  say  the  same  orthodox  writers,  to 
startle  and  withhold  our  faith  when  we  meet  in  the  page  of 
discreet  and  sober  history  with  these  signs  and  portents,  which 
transcend  the  probabilities  of  ordinary  life ;  for  the  revolutions 
of  empires  and  the  downfall  of  mighty  kings  are  awful  events, 
that  shake  the  physical  as  well  as  the  moral  world,  and  are 
often  announced  by  forerunning  marvels  and  prodigious  omens. 

With  such  like  cautious  preliminaries  do  the  wary  but  credu 
lous  historiographers  of  yore  usher  in  a  marvellous  event  of 
prophecy  and  enchantment,  linked  in  ancient  story  with  the 
fortunes  of  Don  Roderick,  but  which  modern  doubters  would 
fain  hold  up  as  an  apocryphal  tradition  of  Arabian  origin. 

Now,  so  it  happened,  according  to  the  legend* that  about  this 
time,  as  King  Roderick  was  seated  one  day  on  his  throne,  sur 
rounded  by  his  nobles,  in  the  ancient  city  of  Toledo,  two  men 
of  venerable  appearance  entered  the  hall  of  audience.  Their 
snowy  beards  descended  to  their  breasts,  and  their  gray  hairs 
were  bound  with  ivy.  They  were  arrayed  in  white  garments 
of  foreign  or  antiquated  fashion,  which  swept  the  ground,  and 
were  cinctured  with  girdles,  wrought  with  the  signs  of  the 
zodiac  from  which  were  suspended  enormous  bunches  of  keys 
of  every  variety  of  form.  Having  approached  the  throne 
and  made  obeisance:  "Know,  O  king,"  said  one  of  the  old 
men,  ' '  that  in  days  of  yore,  when  Hercules  of  Libya,  sur- 
named  the  Strong,  had  set  up  his  pillars  at  the  ocean  strait,  he 
erected  a  tower  near  to  this  ancient  city  of  Toledo.  He  built  it 
of  prodigious  strength,  and  finished  it  with  magic  art,  shutting 
up  within  it  a  fearful  secret,  never  to  be  penetrated  without 
peril  and  disaster.  To  protect  this  terrible  mystery  he  closed 
the  entrance  to  the  edifice  with  a  ponderous  door  of  iron, 


THE  LEGEND   OF  DON  RODERICK.  25 

secured  by  a  great  lock  of  steel,  and  he  left  a  command  that 
every  king  who  should  succeed  him  should  add  another  lock 
to  the  portal;  denouncing  woe  and  destruction  on  him  who 
should  eventually  unfold  the  secret  of  the  tower. 

' '  The  guardianship  of  the  portal  was  given  to  our  ancestors, 
and  has  continued  in  our  family,  from  generation  to  genera 
tion,  since  the  days  of  Hercules.  Several  kings,  from  time  to 
time,  have  caused  the  gate  to  be  thrown  open,  and  have  at 
tempted  to  enter,  but  have  paid  dearly  for  their  temerity. 
Some  have  perished  within  the  threshold,  others  have  been 
overwhelmed  with  horror  at  tremendous  sounds,  which  shook 
the  foundations  of  the  earth,  and  have  hastened  to  reclose  the 
door  and  secure  it  with  its  thousand  locks.  Thus,  since  the 
days  of  Hercules,  the  inmost  recesses  of  the  pile  have  never 
been  penetrated  by  mortal  man,  and  a  profound  mystery  con 
tinues  to  prevail  over  this  great  enchantment.  This,  O  king, 
is  all  we  have  to  relate ;  and  our  errand  is  to  entreat  thee  to 
repair  to  the  tower  and  affix  thy  lock  to  the  portal,  as  has 
been  done  by  all  thy  predecessors."  Having  thus  said,  tfoe 
ancient  men  made  a  profound  reverence  and  departed  from  the 
presence  chamber.* 

Don  Roderick  remained  for  some  time  lost  in  thought  after 
the  departure  of  the  men;  he  then  dismissed  all  his  court 
excepting  the  venerable  Urbino,  at  that  time  archbishop  of 
Toledo.  The  long  white  beard  of  this  prelate  bespoke  his  ad 
vanced  age,  and  his  overhanging  eyebrows  showed  him  a  man 
full  of  wary  counsel. 

"Father,"  said  the  king,  " I  have  an  earnest  desire  to  pene 
trate  the  mystery  of  this  tower."  The  worthy  prelate  shook 
his  hoary  head.  ' '  Beware,  my  son, "  said  he ;  "  there  are  secrets 
hidden  from  man  for  his  good.  Your  predecessors  for  many 
generations  have  respected  this  mystery,  and  have  increased 
in  might  and  empire.  A  knowledge  of  it,  therefore,  is  not 
material  to  the  welfare  of  your  kingdom.  Seek  not  then  to 
indulge  a  rash  and  unprofitable  curiosity,  which  is  interdicted 
under  such  awful  menaces. " 

"  Of  what  importance,"  cried  the  king,  "are  the  menaces  of 
Hercules  the  Libyan?  was  he  not  a  pagan;  and  can  his  en 
chantments  have  aught  avail  against  a  believer  in  our  holy 
faith?  Doubtless  in  this  tower  are  locked  up  treasures  of  gold 


*  Perdida  de  Espafia,  por  Abulcasim  Tarif  Abentarique,  1. 1,  c.  6.    Cronica  del  Rey 
Don  Rodrigo,  por  el  Moro  Rasis,  1.  1,  c.  1.    Bleda,  Cron.  cap.  vii. 


26  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

and  jewels,  amassed  in  days  of  old,  the  spoils  of  mighty  kings, 
the  riches  of  the  pagan  world.  My  coffers  are  exhausted;  I 
have  need  of  supply ;  and  surely  it  would  be  an  acceptable  act 
in  the  eyes  of  heaven,  to  draw  forth  this  wealth  which  lies 
buried  under  profane  and  necromantic  spells,  and  consecrate  it 
to  religious  purposes." 

The  venerable  archbishop  still  continued  to  remonstrate,  but 
Don  Roderick  heeded  not  his  counsel,  for  he  was  led  on  by  his 
malignant  star.  "Father,"  said  he,  " it  is  in  vain  you  attempt 
to  dissuade  me.  My  resolution  is  fixed.  To-morrow  I  will 
explore  the  hidden  mystery,  or  rather  the  hidden  treasures,  of 
this  tower." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

STORY  OF  THE  MARVELLOUS  AND   PORTENTOUS  TOWER. 

fl?HE  morning  sun  shone  brightly  upon  the  cliff-built  towers  of 
Toledo,  when  King  Roderick  issued  out  of  the  gate  of  the  city 
at  the  head  of  a  numerous  train  of  courtiers  and  cavaliers,  and 
crossed  the  bridge  that  bestrides  the  deep  rocky  bed  of  the 
Tagus.  The  shining  cavalcade  wound  up  the  road  that  leads 
among  the  mountains,  and  soon  came  in  sight  of  the  necromantic 
tower. 

Of  this  renowned  edifice  marvels  are  related  by  the  ancient 
Arabian  and  Spanish  chroniclers,  ' '  and  I  doubt  much, "  adds 
the  venerable  Agapida,  ' '  whether  many  readers  will  not  con 
sider  the  whole  as  a  cunningly  devised  fable,  sprung  from  an 
oriental  imagination ;  but  it  is  not  for  me  to  reject  a  fact  which 
is  recorded  by  all  those  writers  who  are  the  fathers  of  our 
national  history ;  a  fact,  too,  which  is  as  well  attested  as  most 
of  the  remarkable  events  in  the  story  of  Don  Roderick.  None 
but  light  and  inconsiderate  minds,"  continues  the  good  friar, 
' '  do  hastily  reject  the  marvellous.  To  the  thinking  mind  the 
whole  world  is  enveloped  in  mystery,  and  every  thing  is  full  of 
type  and  portent.  To  such  a  mind  the  necromantic  tower  of 
Toledo  will  appear  as  one  of  those  wondrous  monuments  of 
the  olden  time;  one  of  those  Egyptian  and  Chaldaic  piles, 
storied  with  hidden  wisdom  and  mystic  prophecy,  which  have 
been  devised  in  past  ages,  when  man  yet  enjoyed  an  intercourse 
with  high  and  spiritual  natures,  and  when  human  foresight 
partook  of  divination. " 


THE  LEGEND   OF  DON  RODERICK.  27 

This  singular  tower  was  round  and  of  great  height  and  gran 
deur,  erected  upon  a  lofty  rock,  and  surrounded  by  crags  and 
precipices.  The  foundation  was  supported  by  four  brazen 
lions,  each  taller  than  a  cavalier  on  horseback.  The  walls  were 
built  of  small  pieces  of  jasper  and  various  coloured  marbles, 
not  larger  than  a  man's  hand;  so  subtilely  joined,  however, 
that,  but  for  their  different  hues,  they  might  be  taken  for  one 
entire  stone.  They  were  arranged  with  marvellous  cunning  so 
as  to  represent  battles  and  warlike  deeds  of  times  and  heroes 
long  since  passed  away,  and  the  whole  surface  was  so  admirably 
polished  that  the  stones  were  as  lustrous  as  glass,  and  reflected 
the  rays  of  the  sun  with  such  resplendent  brightness  as  to  daz 
zle  all  beholders.* 

King  Roderick  and  his  courtiers  arrived  wondering  and 
amazed  at  the  foot  of  the  rock.  Here  there  was  a  narrow  arched 
way  cut  through  the  living  stone:  the  only  entrance  to  the 
tower.  It  was  closed  by  a  massive  iron  gate  covered  with 
rusty  locks  of  divers  workmanship  and  in  the  fashion  of  differ 
ent  centuries,  which  had  been  affixed  by  the  predecessors  of 
Don  Roderick.  On  either  side  of  the  portal  stood  the  two  an 
cient  guardians  of  the  tower,  laden  with  the  keys  appertaining 
to  the  locks. 

The  king  alighted,  and  approaching  the  portals,  ordered  the 
guardians  to  unlock  the  gate.  The  hoary-headed  men  drew 
back  with  terror.  ' '  Alas !"  cried  they,  ' '  what  is  it  your  majesty 
requires  of  us?  Would  you  have  the  mischiefs  of  this  tower 
unbound,  and  let  loose  to  shake  the  earth  to  its  foundations?" 

The  venerable  archbishop  Urbino  likewise  implored  him  not 
to  disturb  a  mystery  which  had  been  held  sacred  from  genera 
tion  to  generation  within  the  memory  of  man,  and  which  even 
Csesar  himself,  when  sovereign  of  Spain,  had  not  ventured  to 
invade.  The  youthful  cavaliers,  however,  were  eager  to  pur 
sue  the  adventure,  and  encouraged  him  in  his  rash  curiosity. 

•'Come  what  come  may,"  exclaimed  Don  Roderick,  "I  am 
resolved  to  penetrate  the  mystery  of  this  tower."  So  saying, 
he  again  commanded  the  guardians  to  unlock  the  portal.  The 
ancient  men  obeyed  with  fear  and  trembling,  but  their  hands 
shook  with  age,  and  when  they  applied  the  keys  the  locks  were 
so  rusted  by  time,  or  of  such  strange  workmanship,  that  they 
resisted  their  feeble  efforts,  whereupon  the  young  cavaliers 


*From  the  minute  account  of  the  good  friar,  drawn  from  the  ancient  chronicles, 
it  would  appear  that  the  walls  of  the  tower  were  pictured  in  mosaic  work. 


28  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

pressed  forward  and  lent  their  aid.  Still  the  locks  were  so 
numerous  and  difficult,  that  with  all  their  eagerness  and 
strength  a  great  part  of  the  day  was  exhausted  before  the 
whole  of  them  could  be  mastered. 

When  the  last  bolt  had  yielded  to  the  key,  the  guardians  and 
the  reverend  archbishop  again  entreated  the  king  to  pause 
and  reflect.  "  Whatever  is  within  this  tower,"  said  they,  "is 
as  yet  harmless  and  lies  bound  under  a  mighty  spell :  venture 
not  then  to  open  a  door  which  may  let  forth  a  flood  of  evil 
upon  the  land. "  But  the  anger  of  the  king  was  roused,  and  he 
ordered  that  the  portal  should  be  instantly  thrown  open.  In 
vain,  however,  did  one  after  another  exert  his  strength,  and 
equally  in  vain  did  the  cavaliers  unite  their  forces,  and  apply 
their  shoulders  to  the  gate ;  though  there  was  neither  bar  nor 
bolt  remaining,  it  was  perfectly  immovable. 

The  patience  of  the  king  was  now  exhausted,  and  he  ad 
vanced  to  apply  his  hand ;  scarcely,  however,  did  he  touch  the 
iron  gate,  when  it  swung  slowly  open,  uttering,  as  it  were,  a 
dismal  groan,  as  it  turned  reluctantly  upon  its  hinges.  A  cold, 
damp  wind  issued  forth,  accompanied  by  a  tempestuous  sound. 
The  hearts  of  the  ancient  guardians  quaked  within  them,  and 
their  knees  smote  together ;  but  several  of  the  youthful  cava 
liers  rushed  in,  eager  to  gratify  their  curiosity,  or  to  signalize 
themselves  in  this  redoubtable  enterprise.  They  had  scarcely 
advanced  a  few  paces,  however,  when  they  recoiled,  overcome 
by  the  baleful  air,  or  by  some  fearful  vision.*  Upon  this,  the 
king  ordered  that  fires  should  be  kindled  to  dispel  the  dark 
ness,  and  to  correct  the  noxious  and  long  imprisoned  air ;  he 
then  led  the  way  into  the  interior ;  but,  though  stout  of  heart, 
he  advanced  with  awe  and  hesitation. 

After  proceeding  a  short  distance,  he  entered  a  hall,  or  ante 
chamber,  on  the  opposite  of  which  was  a  door,  and  before  it, 
on  a  pedestal,  stood  a  gigantic  figure,  of  the  colour  of  bronze, 
and  of  a  terrible  aspect.  It  held  a  huge  mace,  which  it  twirled 
incessantly,  giving  such  cruel  and  resounding  blows  upon  the 
earth  as  to  prevent  all  further  entrance. 

The  king  paused  at  sight  of  this  appalling  figure,  for  whether 
it  were  a  living  being,  or  a  statue  of  magic  artifice,  he  could 
not  tell.  On  its  breast  was  a  scroll,  whereon  was  inscribed 
in  large  letters,  "  I  do  my  duty."  t  After  a  little  while  Roder 
ick  plucked  up  heart,  and  addressed  it  with  great  solemnity  : 

*  Bleda,  Cronica,  cap.  7.  t  Idem. 


THE  LEGEND   OF  DON  RODERICK.  29 

"Whatever  thou  be,"  said  he,  "  know  that  I  come  not  to  vio 
late  this  sanctuary,  but  to  inquire  into  the  mystery  it  con 
tains  ;  I  conjure  thee,  therefore,  to  let  me  pass  in  safety. " 

Upon  this  the  figure  paused  with  uplifted  mace,  and  the  king 
and  his  train  passed  unmolested  through  the  door. 

They  now  entered  a  vast  chamber,  of  a  rare  and  sumptu 
ous  architecture,  difficult  to  be  described.  The  walls  were 
encrusted  with  the  most  precious  gems,  so  joined  together  as 
to  form  one  smooth  and  perfect  surface.  The  lofty  dome  ap 
peared  to  be  self-supported,  and  was  studded  with  gems,  lus 
trous  as  the  stars  of  the  firmament.  There  was  neither  wood, 
nor  any  other  common  or  base  material  to  be  seen  throughout 
the  edifice.  There  were  no  windows  or  other  openings  to 
admit  the  day,  yet  a  radiant  light  was  spread  throughout  the 
place,  which  seemed  to  shine  from  the  walls,  and  to  render 
every  object  distinctly  visible. 

In  the  centre  of  this  hall  stood  a  table  of  alabaster  of 
the  rarest  workmanship,  on  which  was  inscribed  in  Greek 
characters,  that  Hercules  Alcides,  the  Theban  Greek,  had 
founded  this  tower  in  the  year  of  the  world  three  thousand 
and  six.  Upon  the  table  stood  a  golden  casket,  richly  set 
round  with  precious  stones,  and  closed  with  a  lock  of  mother- 
of-pearl,  and  on  the  lid  were  inscribed  the  following  words : 

"  In  this  coffer  is  contained  the  mystery  of  the  tower.  The 
hand  of  none  but  a  king  can  open  it ;  but  let  him  beware !  for 
marvellous  events  will  be  revealed  to  him,  which  are  to  take 
place  before  his  death." 

King  Roderick  boldly  seized  upon  the  casket.  The  venerable 
archbishop  laid  his  hand  upon  his  arm,  and  made  a  last  remon 
strance.  "Forbear,  my  son!"  said  he;  "desist  while  there  is 
yet  time.  Look  not  into  the  mysterious  decrees  of  Providence. 
God  has  hidden  them  in  mercy  from  our  sight,  and  it  is  impious 
to  rend  the  veil  by  which  they  are  concealed." 

"What  have  I  to  dread  from  a  knowledge  of  the  future?" 
replied  Roderick,  with  an  air  of  haughty  presumption.  ' '  If 
good  be  destined  me,  I  shall  enjoy  it  by  anticipation ;  if  evil,  I 
shall  arm  myself  to  meet  it."  So  saying,  he  rashly  broke  the 
lock. 

Within  the  coffer  he  found  nothing  but  a  linen  cloth,  folded 
between  two  tablets  of  copper.  On  unfolding  it  he  beheld 
painted  on  it  figures  of  men  on  horseback,  of  fierce  demeanour, 
clad  in  turbans  and  robes  of  various  colours,  after  the  fashion 
of  the  Arabs,  with  scimitars  hanging  from  their  necks  and 


30  LEGENDS   OF  THE   CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

cross-bows  at  their  saddle-backs,  and  they  carried  banners  and 
pennons  with  divers  devices.  Above  them  was  inscribed  in 
Greek  characters,  ' '  Rash  monarch !  behold  the  men  who  are  to 
hurl  thee  from  thy  throne,  and  subdue  thy  kingdom !" 

At  sight  of  these  things  the  king  was  troubled  in  spirit,  and 
dismay  fell  upon  his  attendants.  While  they  were  yet  regard 
ing  the  paintings,  it  seemed  as  if  the  figures  began  to  move, 
and  a  faint  sound  of  warlike  tumult  arose  from  the  cloth,  with 
the  clash  of  cymbal  and  bray  of  trumpet,  the  neigh  of  steed 
and  shout  of  army ;  but  all  was  heard  indistinctly,  as  if  afar 
off,  or  in  a  reverie  or  dream.  The  more  they  gazed,  the  plainer 
became  the  motion,  and  the  louder  the  noise;  and  the  linen 
cloth  rolled  forth,  and  amplified,  and  spread  out,  as  it  were,  a 
mighty  banner,  and  filled  the  hall,  and  mingled  with  the  air, 
until  its  texture  was  no  longer  visible,  or  appeared  as  a  trans 
parent  cloud.  And  the  shadowy  figures  appeared  all  in 
motion,  and  the  din  and  uproar  became  fiercer  and  fiercer ;  and 
whether  the  whole  were  an  animated  picture,  or  a  vision,  or  an 
array  of  embodied  spirits,  conjured  up  by  supernatural  power, 
no  one  present  could  tell.  They  beheld  before  them  a  great 
field  of  battle,  where  Christians  and  Moslems  were  engaged  in 
deadly  conflict.  They  heard  the  rush  and  tramp  of  steeds,  the 
blast  of  trump  and  clarion,  the  clash  of  cymbal,  and  the  stormy 
din  of  a  thousand  drums.  There  was  the  clash  of  swords,  and 
maces,  and  battle-axes,  with  the  wtiistling  of  arrows  and  the 
hurtling  of  darts  and  lances.  The  Christians  quailed  before  the 
foe;  the  infidels  pressed  upon  them  and  put  them  to  utter 
rout ;  the  standard  of  the  cross  was  cast  down,  the  banner  of 
Spain  was  trodden  under  foot,  the  air  resounded  with  shouts  of 
triumph,  with  yells  of  fury,  and  with  the  groans  of  dying  men. 
Amidst  the  flying  squadrons  King  Roderick  beheld  a  crowned 
warrior,  whose  back  was  towards  him,  but  whose  armour  and 
device  were  his  own,  and  who  was  mounted  on  a  white  steed 
that  resembled  his  own  war-horse  Orelia.  In  the  confusion  of 
the  flight,  the  warrior  was  dismounted  and  was  no  longer  to  be 
seen,  and  Orelia  galloped  wildly  through  the  field  of  battle 
without  a  rider. 

Roderick  stayed  to  see  no  more,  but  rushed  from  the  fatal 
hall,  followed  by  his  terrified  attendants.  They  fled  through 
the  outer  chamber,  where  the  gigantic  figure  with  the  whirling 
mace  had  disappeared  from  his  pedestal,  and  on  issuing  into 
the  open  air,  they  found  the  two  ancient  guardians  of  the 
tower  lying  dead  at  the  portal,  as  though  they  had  been 


THE  LEGEND   OF  DON  RODERICK.  31 

crushed  by  some  mighty  blow.  All  nature,  which  had  been 
clear  and  serene,  was  now  in  wild  uproar.  The  heavens  were 
darkened  by  heavy  clouds ;  loud  bursts  of  thunder  rent  the  air, 
and  the  earth  was  deluged  with  rain  and  rattling  hail. 

The  king  ordered  that  the  iron  portal  should  be  closed,  but 
the  door  was  immovable,  and  the  cavaliers  were  dismayed  by 
the  tremendous  turmoil  and  the  mingled  shouts  and  groans 
that  continued  to  prevail  within.  The  king  and  his  train  hast 
ened  back  to  Toledo,  pursued  and  pelted  by  the  tempest.  The 
mountains  shook  and  echoed  with  the  thunder,  trees  were  up 
rooted  and  blown  down,  and  the  Tagus  raged  and  roared  and 
flowed  above  its  banks.  It  seemed  to  the  affrighted  courtiers  as 
if  the  phantom  legions  of  the  tower  had  issued  forth  and  min 
gled  with  the  storm ;  for  amidst  the  claps  of  thunder  and  the 
howling  of  the  wind,  they  fancied  they  heard  the  sound  of  the 
drums  and  trumpets,  the  shouts  of  armies,  and  the  rush  of 
steeds.  Thus  beaten  by  tempest  and  overwhelmed  with 
horror,  the  king  and  his  courtiers  arrived  at  Toledo,  clattering 
across  the  bridge  of  the  Tagus,  and  entering  the  gate  in  head 
long  confusion  as  though  they  had  been  pursued  by  an  enemy. 

In  the  morning  the  heavens  were  again  serene,  and  all  nature 
was  restored  to  tranquillity.  The  king,  therefore,  issued  forth 
with  his  cavaliers,  and  took  the  road  to  the  tower,  followed  by 
a  great  multitude,  for  he  was  anxious  once  more  to  close  the 
iron  door,  and  shut  up  those  evils  that  threatened  to  overwhelm 
the  land.  But  lo!  on  coming  in  sight  of  the  tower,  a  new 
wonder  met  their  eyes.  An  eagle  appeared  high  in  the  air, 
seeming  to  descend  from  heaven.  He  bore  in  his  beak  a  burn 
ing  brand,  and  lighting  on  the  summit  of  the  tower,  fanned 
the  fire  with  his  wings.  In  a  little  while  the  edifice  burst  forth 
into  a  blaze  as  though  it  had  been  built  of  rosin,  and  the  flames 
mounted  into  the  air  with  a  brilliancy  more  dazzling  than  the 
sun ;  nor  did  they  cease  until  every  stone  was  consumed  and 
the  whole  was  reduced  to  a  heap  of  ashes.  Then  there  came  a 
vast  flight  of  birds,  small  of  size  and  sable  of  hue,  darkening 
the  sky  like  a  cloud;  and  they  descended  and  wheeled  in 
circles  round  the  ashes,  causing  so  great  a  wind  with  their 
wings  that  the  whole  was  borne  up  into  the  air,  and  scattered 
throughout  all  Spain,  and  wherever  a  particle  of  that  ashes  fell 
it  was  as  a  stain  of  blood.  It  is  furthermore  recorded  by 
ancient  men  and  writers  of  former  days,  that  all  those  on 
whom  this  dust  fell  were  afterwards  slain  in  battle,  when  the 
country  was  conquered  by  the  Arabs,  and  that  the  destruction 


r,2  LEGENDS  OF  THE'  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

of  this  necromantic  tower  was  a  sign  and  token  of  the  ap 
preaching  perdition  of  Spain. 

"Let  all  those,"  concludes  the  cautious  friar,  "  who  question 
the  verity  of  this  most  marvellous  occurrence,  consult  those 
admirable  sources  of  our  history,  the  chronicle  of  the  Moor 
Basis,  and  the  work  entitled,  The  Fall  of  Spain,  written  by  the 
Moor  Abulcasim  Tarif  Abentarique.  Let  them  consult,  more 
over,  the  venerable  historian  Bleda,  and  the  cloud  of  other 
Catholic  Spanish  writers  who  have  treated  of  this  event,  and 
they  will  find  I  have  related  nothing  that  has  not  been  printed 
and  published  under  the  inspection  and  sanction  of  our  holy 
mother  church.  God  alone  knoweth  the  truth  of  these  things ; 
I  speak  nothing  but  what  has  been  handed  down  to  me  from 
times  of  old." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

COUNT    JULIAN — HIS    FORTUNES    IN    AFRICA.— HE    HEARS    OF    THE 
DISHONOUR  OF   HIS    CHILD— HIS   CONDUCT    THEREUPON. 

THE  course  of  our  legendary  narration  now  returns  to  notice 
the  fortunes  of  Count  Julian,  after  his  departure  from  Toledo, 
to  resume  his  government  on  the  coast  of  Barbary.  He  left 
the  Countess  Frandina  at  Algeziras,  his  paternal  domain,  for 
the  province  under  his  command  was  threatened  with  inva 
sion.  In  fact,  when  he  arrived  at  Ceuta  he  found  his  post 
in  imminent  danger  from  the  all-conquering  Moslems.  The 
Arabs  of  the  east,  the  followers  of  Mahomet,  having  subjugated 
several  of  the  most  potent  oriental  kingdoms,  had  established 
their  seat  of  empire  at  Damascus,  where,  at  this  time,  it  was 
filled  by  Waled  Almanzor,  surnamed  "The  Sword  of  God.' 
From  thence  the  tide  of  Moslem  conquest  had  rolled  on  to  the 
shores  of  the  Atlantic,  so  that  all  Almagreb,  or  Western  Africa, 
had  submitted  to  the  standard  of  the  Prophet,  with  the  ex 
ception  of  a  portion  of  Tingitania,  lying  along  the  straits ;  being 
the  province  held  by  the  Goths  of  Spain,  and  commanded  by 
Count  Julian.  The  Arab  invaders  were  a  hundred  thousand 
strong,  most  of  them  veteran  troops,  seasoned  in  warfare  and 
accustomed  to  victory.  They  were  led  by  an  old  Arab  Gen 
eral,  Muza  ben  Nosier,  to  whom  was  confided  the  government 
of  Almagreb ;  most  of  which  he  had  himself  conquered.  The 


TIIK  LEGEND   OF  DON  RODERICK.  33 

ambition  of  this  veteran  was  to  make  the  Moslem  conquest 
complete,  by  expelling  the  Christians  from  the  African  shores  ; 
with  this  view  his  troops  menaced  the  few  remaining  Gothic 
fortresses  of  Tingitania,  while  he  himself  sat  down  in  person 
before  the  walls  of  Ceuta.  The  Arab  chieftain  had  been  ren 
dered  confident  by  continual  success,  and  thought  nothing 
could  resist  his  arms  and  the  sacred  standard  of  the  Prophet. 
Impatient  of  the  tedious  delays  of  a  siege,  he  led  his  troops 
boldly  against  the  rock-built  towers  of  Ceuta,  and  attempted 
to  take  the  place  by  storm.  The  onset  was  fierce,  and  the 
struggle  desperate ;  the  swarthy  sons  of  the  desert  were  light 
and  vigorous,  and  of  fiery  spirit,  but  the  Goths,  inured  to 
danger  on  this  frontier,  retained  the  stubborn  valour  of  their 
race,  so  impaired  among  their  brethren  in  Spain.  They  were 
commanded,  too,  by  one  skilled  in  warfare  and  ambitious  of  re 
nown.  After  a  vehement  conflict  the  Moslem  assailants  were 
repulsed  from  all  points,  and  driven  from  the  walls.  Don 
Julian  sallied  forth  and  harassed  them  in  their  retreat,  and  so 
severe  was  the  carnage  that  the  veteran  Muza  was  fain  to 
break  up  his  camp  and  retire  confounded  from  the  siege. 

The  victory  at  Ceuta  resounded  throughout  Tingitania,  and 
spread  universal  joy.  On  every  side  were  heard  shouts  of 
exultation  mingled  with  praises  of  Count  Julian.  He  was 
hailed  by  the  people,  wherever  he  went,  as  their  deliverer,  and 
blessings  were  invoked  upon  his  head.  The  heart  of  Count 
Julian  was  lifted  up,  and  his  spirit  swelled  within  him ;  but  it 
was  with  noble  and  virtuous  pride,  for  he  was  conscious  of 
having  merited  the  blessings  of  his  country. 

In  the  midst  of  his  exultation,  and  while  the  rejoicings  of 
the  people  were  yet  sounding  in  his  ears,  the  page  arrived  who 
bore  the  letter  from  his  unfortunate  daughter. 

"What  tidings  from  the  king?"  said  the  count,  as  the  page 
knelt  before  him.  * '  None,  my  lord, "  replied  the  youth ;  ' '  but  I 
bear  a  letter  sent  in  all  haste  by  the  Lady  Florinda." 

He  took  the  letter  from  his  bosom  and  presented  it  to  his 
lord.  As  Count  Julian  read  it  his  countenance  darkened  and 
fell.  ' '  This, "  said  he,  bitterly,  ' '  is  my  reward  for  serving  a 
tyrant ;  and  these  are  the  honours  heaped  on  me  by  my  country 
while  fighting  its  battles  in  a  foreign  land.  May  evil  overtake 
me,  and  infamy  rest  upon  my  name,  if  I  cease  until  I  have  full 
measure  of  revenge." 

Count  Julian  was  vehement  in  his  passions,  and  took  no 
counsel  in  his  wrath.  His  spirit  was  haughty  in  the  extreme, 


34     LEO  ENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

but  destitute  of  true  magnanimity,  and  when  once  wounded, 
turned  to  gall  and  venom.  A  dark  and  malignant  hatred  en 
tered  into  his  soul,  not  only  against  Don  Roderick,  but  against 
all  Spain ;  he  looked  upon  it  as  the  scene  of  his  disgrace,  a  land 
in  which  his  family  was  dishonoured,  and,  in  seeking  to  avenge 
the  wrongs  he  had  suffered  from  his  sovereign,  he  meditated 
against  his  native  country  one  of  the  blackest  schemes  of 
treason  that  ever  entered  into  the  human  heart. 

The  plan  of  Count  Julian  was  to  hurl  King  Roderick  from 
his  throne,  and  to  deliver  all  Spain  into  the  hands  of  the  infi 
dels.  In  concerting  and  executing  this  treacherous  plot,  it 
seemed  as  if  his  whole  nature  was  changed ;  every  lofty  and 
generous  sentiment  was  stifled,  and  he  stooped  to  the  meanest 
dissimulation.  His  first  object  was,  to  extricate  his  family 
from  the  power  of  the  king,  and  to  remove  it  from  Spain  before 
his  treason  should  be  known;  Ins  next,  to  deprive  the  country 
of  its  remaining  means  of  defence  against  an  invader. 

With  these  dark  purposes  at  heart,  but  with  an  open  and 
serene  countenance,  he  crossed  to  Spain  and  repaired  to  the 
court  at  Toledo.  Wherever  he  came  he  was  hailed  with  accla 
mation,  as  a  victorious  general,  and  appeared  in  the  presence 
of  his  sovereign  radiant  with  the  victory  at  Ceuta.  Conceal 
ing  from  King  Roderick  his  knowledge  of  the  outrage  upon  his 
house,  he  professed  nothing  but  the  most  devoted  loyalty  and 
affection. 

The  king  loaded  him  with  favours ;  seeking  to  appease  his 
own  conscience  by  heaping  honours  upon  the  father  in  atone 
ment  of  the  deadly  wrong  inflicted  upon  his  child.  He  re 
garded  Count  Julian,  also,  as  a  man  able  and  experienced  in 
warfare,  and  took  his  advice  in  al]  matters  relating  to  the 
military  affairs  of  the  kingdom.  The  count  magnified  the 
dangers  that  threatened  the  frontier  under  his  command,  and 
prevailed  upon  the  king  to  send  thither  the  best  horses  and 
arms  remaining  from  the  time  of  Witiza,  there  being  no  need 
of  them  in  the  centre  of  Spain,  in  its  present  tranquil  state. 
The  residue,  at  his  suggestion,  was  stationed  on  the  frontiers 
of  Gallia ;  so  that  the  kingdom  was  left  almost  wholly  with 
out  defence  against  any  sudden  irruption  from  the  south. 

Having  thus  artfully  arranged  his  plans,  and  all  things  being 
prepared  for  his  return  to  Africa,  he  obtained  permission  to 
withdraw  his  daughter  from  the  court,  and  leave  her  with  her 
mother,  the  Countess  Frandina,  who,  he  pretended,  lay  dan 
gerously  ill  at  Algeziras,  Count  Julian  issued  out  of  the  gate 


THE  LEGEND   OF  DON  RODERICK.  35 

of  the  city,  followed  by  a  shining  band  of  chosen  followers, 
while  beside  him,  on  a  palfrey,  rode  the  pale  and  weeping 
Florinda.  The  populace  hailed  and  blessed  him  as  he  passed, 
but  his  heart  turned  from  them  with  loathing.  As  he  crossed 
the  bridge  of  the  Tagus  he  looked  back  with  a  dark  brow  upon 
Toledo,  and  raised  his  mailed  hand  and  shook  it  at  the  royal 
palace  of  King  Roderick,  which  crested  the  rocky  height.  ' '  A 
father's  curse,"  said  he,  "be  upon  thee  and  thine!  may  deso 
lation  fall  upon  thy  dwelling,  and  confusion  and  defeat  upon 
thy  realm !" 

In  his  journeyings  through  the  country,  he  looked  round 
Mm  with  a  malignant  eye ;  the  pipe  of  the  shepherd,  and  the 
song  of  the  husbandman,  were  as  discord  to  his  soul ;  every 
sight  and  sound  of  human  happiness  sickened  him  at  heart ; 
and,  in  the  bitterness  of  his  spirit,  he  prayed  that  he  might 
see  the  whole  scene  of  prosperity  laid  waste  with  fire  and 
sword  by  the  invader. 

The  story  of  domestic  outrage  and  disgrace  had  already 
been  made  known  to  the  Countess  Frandina.  When  the  hap 
less  Florinda  came  in  presence  of  her  mother,  she  fell  on  her 
neck,  and  hid  her  face  in  her  bosom,  and  wept;  but  the 
countess  shed  never  a  tear,  for  she  was  a  woman  haughty  of 
spirit  and  strong  of  heart.  She  looked  her  husband  sternly  in 
the  face.  "Perdition  light  upon  thy  head,"  said  she,  "if  thou 
submit  to  this  dishonour.  For  my  own  part,  woman  as  I  am, 
I  will  assemble  the  followers  of  my  house,  nor  rest  until  rivers 
of  blood  have  washed  away  this  stain." 

"Be  satisfied,"  replied  the  count;  "vengeance  is  on  foot,  and 
will  be  sure  and  ample." 

Being  now  in  his  own  domains,  surrounded  by  his  relatives 
and  friends,  Count  Julian  went  on  to  complete  his  web  of 
treason.  In  this  he  was  aided  by  his  brother-in-law,  Oppas, 
the  bishop  of  Seville :  a  dark  man  and  perfidious  as  the  night, 
but  devout  in  demeanour,  and  smooth  and  plausible  in  council. 
This  artful  prelate  had  contrived  to  work  himself  into  the 
entire  confidence  of  the  king,  and  had  even  prevailed  upon 
him  to  permit  his  nephews,  Evan  and  Siseburto,  the  exiled 
sons  of  Witiza,  to  return  into  Spain.  They  resided  in  Andalu 
sia,  and  were  now  looked  to  as  fit  instruments  in  the  present 
traitorous  conspiracy. 

By  the  advice  of  the  bishop.  Count  Julian  called  a  secret 
meeting  of  his  relatives  and  adherents  on  a  wild  rocky  moun 
tain,  not  far  from  Consuegra,  and  which  still  bears  the  Moor- 


36  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

ish  appellation  of  "  La  Sierra  de  Calderin, "  or  the  mountain  oi 
treason.*  When  all  were  assembled,  Count  Julian  appeared 
among  them,  accompanied  by  the  bishop  and  by  the  Countess 
Frandina.  Then  gathering  around  him  those  who  were  of  his 
blood  and  kindred,  he  revealed  the  outrage  that  had  been 
offered  to  their  house.  He  represented  to  them  that  Eoderick 
was  their  legitimate  enemy;  that  he  had  dethroned  Witiza, 
their  relation,  and  had  now  stained  the  honour  of  one  of  tho 
most  illustrious  daughters  of  their  line.  The  Countess  Fran 
dina  seconded  his  words.  She  was  a  woman  majestic  in 
person  and  eloquent  of  tongue,  and  being  inspired  by  a 
mother's  feelings,  her  speech  aroused  the  assembled  cavaliers 
to  fury. 

The  count  took  advantage  of  the  excitement  of  the  moment 
to  unfold  his  plan.  The  main  object  was  to  dethrone  Don 
Roderick,  and  give  the  crown  to  the  sons  of  the  late  King 
Witiza.  By  this  means  they  would  visit  the  sins  of  the  tyrant 
upon  his  head,  and,  at  the  same  time,  restore  the  regal  honours 
to  their  line.  For  this  purpose  their  own  force  would  be  in 
sufficient,  but  they  might  procure  the  aid  of  Muza  ben  Nosier, 
the  Arabian  general,  in  Mauritania,  who  would,  no  doubt, 
gladly  send  a  part  of  his  troops  into  Spain  to  assist  in  the 
enterprise. 

The  plot  thus  suggested  by  Count  Julian  received  the  un 
holy  sanction  of  Bishop  Oppas,  who  engaged  to  aid  it  secretly 
with  all  his  influence  and  means ;  for  he  had  great  wealth  and 
possessions,  and  many  retainers.  The  example  of  the  reverend 
prelate  determined  all  who  might  otherwise  have  wavered, 
and  they  bound  themselves  by  dreadful  oaths  to  be  true  to  the 
conspiracy.  Count  Julian  undertook  to  proceed  to  Africa, 
and  seek  the  camp  of  Muza,  to  negotiate  for  his  aid,  while  the 
bishop  was  to  keep  about  the  person  of  King  Roderick,  and 
lead  him  into  the  net  prepared  for  him. 

All  things  being  thus  arranged,  Count  Julian  gathered  to 
gether  his  treasure,  and  taking  his  wife  and  daughter  and  all 
his  household,  abandoned  the  country  he  meant  to  betray; 
embarking  at  Malaga  for  Ceuta.  The  gate  of  the  wall  of  that 
city,  through  which  they  went  forth,  continued  for  ages  to 
bear  the  name  of  Puerto,  de  la  Cava,  or  the  gate  of  the  harlot ; 
for  such  was  the  opprobrious  and  unmerited  appellation  be 
stowed  by  the  Moors  011  the  unhappy  Florinda.f 

*  Bleda,  cap.  5.  t  Idem.,  cap.  4. 


THE  LEGEND   OF  DON  RODERICK.  37 


CHAPTER  IX. 

SECRET    VISIT    OF    COUNT    JULIAN    TO    THE    ARAB     CAMP— FIRST 
EXPEDITION   OF  TARIC  EL  TUERTO. 

WHEN  Count  Julian  had  placed  his  family  in  security  in 
Ceuta,  surrounded  by  soldiery  devoted  to  his  fortunes,  he  took 
with  him  a  few  confidential  followers,  and  departed  in  secret 
for  the  camp  of  the  Arabian  Emir,  Muza  ben  Nosier.  The 
camp  was  spread  out  in  one  of  those  pastoral  valleys  which  lie 
at  the  feet  of  the  Barbary  hills,  with  the  great  range  of  the 
Atlas  mountains  towering  in  the  distance.  In  the  motley 
army  here  assembled  were  warriors  of  every  tribe  and  nation, 
that  had  been  united  by  pact  or  conquest  in  the  cause  of  Islam. 
There  were  those  who  had  followed  Muza  from  the  fertile  re 
gions  of  Egypt,  across  the  deserts  of  Barca,  and  those  who  had 
joined  his  standard  from  among  the  sun-burnt  tribes  of  Mauri 
tania.  These  were  Saracen  and  Tartar,  Syrian  and  Copt,  and 
swarthy  Moor ;  sumptuous  warriors  from  the  civilized  cities  of 
the  east,  and  the  gaunt  and  predatory  rovers  of  the  desert. 
The  greater  part  of  the  army,  however,  was  composed  of 
Arabs;  but  differing  greatly  from  the  first  rude  hordes  that 
enlisted  under  the  banner  of  Mahomet.  Almost  a  century  of 
continual  wars  "with  the  cultivated  nations  of  the  east  had 
rendered  them  accomplished  warriors ;  and  the  occasional  so 
journ  in  luxurious  countries  and  populous  cities,  had  acquaint 
ed  them  with  the  arts  and  habits  of  civilized  life.  Still  the 
roving,  restless,  and  predatory  habits  of  the  genuine  son  of 
Ishmael  prevailed,  in  defiance  of  every  change  of  clime  or 
situation. 

Count  Julian  found  the  Arab  conqueror  Muza  surrounded  by 
somewhat  of  oriental  state  and  splendour.  He  was  advanced 
in  life,  but  of  a  noble  presence,  and  concealed  his  age  by  ting 
ing  his  hair  and  beard  with  henna.  The  count  assumed  an  air 
of  soldier-like  frankness  and  decision  when  he  came  into  his 
presence.  "Hitherto,"  said  he,  "we  have  been  enemies;  but  I 
come  to  thee  in  peace,  and  it  rests  with  thee  to  make  me  the 
most  devoted  of  thy  friends.  I  have  no  longer  country  or  king. 
Roderick  the  Goth  is  an  usurper,  and  my  deadly  foe ;  he  has 
wounded  my  honour  in  the  tenderest  point,  and  my  country 
affords  me  no  redress.  Aid  me  in  my  vengeance,  and  I  will 


38  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

deliver  all  Spain  into  thy  hands ;  a  land  far  exceeding  in  fer 
tility  and  wealth  all  the  vaunted  regions  thou  hast  conquered 
in  Tingitania." 

The  heart  of  Muza  leaped  with  joy  at  these  words,  for  he  was 
a  bold  and  ambitious  conqueror,  and,  having  overrun  all  west 
ern  Africa,  had  often  cast  a  wistful  eye  to  the  mountains  of 
Spain,  as  he  beheld  them  brightening  beyond  the  waters  of  the 
strait.  Still  he  possessed  the  caution  of  a  veteran,  and  feared 
to  engage  in  an  enterprise  of  such  moment,  and  to  carry  his 
arms  into  another  division  of  the  globe,  without  the  approba 
tion  of  his  sovereign.  Having  drawn  from  Count  Julian  the 
particulars  of  his  plan,  and  of  the  means  he  possessed  to  carry 
it  into  effect,  he  laid  them  before  his  confidential  counsellors 
and  officers,  and  demanded  their  opinion.  "These  words  of 
Count  Julian, "  said  he,  ' '  may  be  false  and  deceitful ;  or  he 
may  not  possess  the  power  to  fulfil  his  promises.  The  whole 
may  be  a  pretended  treason  to  draw  us  on  to  our  destruction. 
It  is  more  natural  that  he  should  be  treacherous  to  us  than  to 
his  country." 

Among  the  generals  of  Muza,  was  a  gaunt  swarthy  veteran, 
scarred  with  wounds ;  a  very  Arab,  whose  great  delight  was 
roving  and  desperate  enterprise,  and  who  cared  for  nothing  be 
yond  his  steed,  his  lance,  and  scimitar.  He  was  a  native  of 
Damascus ;  his  name  was  Taric  ben  Zeyad,  but,  from  having 
lost  an  eye,  he  was  known  among  the  Spaniards  by  the  appel 
lation  of  Taric  el  Tuerto,  or  Taric,  the  one-eyed. 

The  hot  blood  of  this  veteran  Ishmaelite  was  in  a  ferment 
when  he  heard  of  a  new  country  to  invade,  and  vast  regions  to 
subdue,  and  he  dreaded  lest  the  cautious  hesitation  of  Muza 
should  permit  the  glorious  prize  to  escape  them.  ' '  You  speak 
doubtingly,"  said  he,  "of  the  words  of  this  Christian  cavalier, 
but  their  truth  is  easily  to  be  ascertained.  Give  me  four  gal 
leys  and  a  handful  of  men,  and  I  will  depart  with  this  Count 
Julian,  skirt  the  Christian  coast,  and  bring  thee  back  tidings  of 
the  land,  and  of  his  means  to  put  it  in  our  power. " 

The  words  of  the  veteran  pleased  Muza  ben  Nosier,  and  he 
gave  his  consent ;  and  Taric  departed  with  four  galleys  and 
five  hundred  men,  guided  by  the  traitor  Julian.*  This  first 
expedition  of  the  Arabs  against  Spain  took  place,  according  to 
certain  historians,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  seven  hundred  and 


*  Beuter,  Cron.  Gen.  de   Espana,  L.  1,  c.  28.     Marmol.  Descrip.  de  Africa,  L. 
2,  c.  10. 


THE  LEGEND   OF  DON  RODERICK.  39 

twelve ;  though  others  differ  on  this  point,  as  indeed  they  do 
upon  almost  every  point  in  this  early  period  of  Spanish  history. 
The  date  to  which  the  judicious  chroniclers  incline,  is  that  of 
seven  hundred  and  ten,  in  the  month  of  July.  It  would  appear 
frbm  some  authorities,  also,  that  the  galleys  of  Taric  cruised 
along  the  coasts  of  Andalusia  and  Lusitania,  under  the  feigned 
character  of  merchant  barks,  nor  is  this  at  all  improbable, 
while  they  were  seeking  merely  to  observe  the  land,  and  get  a 
knowledge  of  the  harbours.  Wherever  they  touched,  Count 
Julian  despatched  emissaries  to  assemble  his  friends  and  ad 
herents  at  an  appointed  place.  They  gathered  together  secretly 
at  Gezira  Alhadra,  that  is  to  say,  the  Green  Island,  where  they 
held  a  conference  with  Count  Julian  in  presence  of  Taric  ben 
Zeyad.*  Here  they  again  avowed  their  readiness  to  flock  to 
his  standard  whenever  it  should  be  openly  raised,  and  made 
known  their  various  preparations  for  a  rebellion.  Taric  was 
convinced,  by  all  that  he  had  seen  and  heard,  that  Count 
Julian  had  not  deceived  them,  either  as  to  his  disposition  or 
his  means  to  betray  his  country.  Indulging  his  Arab  inclina 
tions,  he  made  an  inroad  into  the  land,  collected  great  spoil 
and  many  captives,  and  bore  off  his  plunder  in  triumph  to 
Muza,  as  a  specimen  of  the  riches  to  be  gained  by  the  conquest 
of  the  Christian  land.f 


CHAPTER  X. 

LETTER  OF  MUZA  TO  THE  CALIPH— SECOND  EXPEDITION  OF  TARIC 
EL  TUERTO. 

ON  hearing  the  tidings  brought  by  Taric  el  Tuerto,  and  be 
holding  the  spoil  he  had  collected,  Muza  wrote  a  letter  to  the 
Caliph  Waled  Almanzor,  setting  forth  the  traitorous  proffer  of 
Count  Julian,  and  the  probability,  through  his  means,  of  mak 
ing  a  successful  invasion  of  Spain.  "Anew  land,"  said  he, 
"spreads  itself  out  before  our  delighted  eyes,  and  invites  our 
conquest.  A  land,  too,  that  equals  Syria  in  the  fertility  of  its 
soil,  and  the  serenity  of  its  sky ;  Yemen,  or  Arabia  the  happy, 
in  its  delightful  temperature ;  India  in  its  flowers  and  spices ; 
Hegiaz  in  its  fruits  and  flowers ;  Cathay  in  its  precious  min 
erals,  and  Aden  in  the  excellence  of  its  ports  and  harbours.  It 

*  Bleda,  Cron.  c.  5.  t  Conde,  Hist.  Dom  Arab,  part  1,  c.  8. 


40  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

is  populous  also,  and  wealthy ;  having  many  splendid  cities  and 
majestic  monuments  of  ancient  art.  What  is  to  prevent  this 
glorious  land  from  becoming  the  inheritance  of  the  faithful? 
Already  we  have  overcome  the  tribes  of  Berbery,  of  Zab,  of 
Derar,  of  Zaara,  Mazamuda  and  Sus,  and  the  victorious  stand 
ard  of  Islam  floats  on  the  towers  of  Tangier.  But  four  leagues 
of  sea  separate  us  from  the  opposite  coast.  One  word  from  my 
sovereign,  and  the  conquerors  of  Africa  will  pour  their  legions 
into  Andalusia,  rescue  it  from  the  domination  of  the  unbeliever, 
and  subdue  it  to  the  law  of  the  Koran."  * 

The  caliph  was  overjoyed  with  the  contents  of  the  letter. 
" God  is  great !"  exclaimed  he,  "and  Mahomet  is  his  prophet! 
It  has  been  foretold  by  the  ambassador  of  God  that  his  law 
should  extend  to  the  ultimate  parts  of  the  west,  and  be  carried 
by  the  sword  into  new  and  unknown  regions.  Behold  another 
land  is  opened  for  the  triumphs  of  the  faithful.  It  is  the  will 
of  Allah,  and  be  his  sovereign  will  obeyed."  So  the  caliph 
sent  missives  to  Muza,  authorizing  him  to  undertake  the  con 
quest. 

Upon  this, there  was  a  great  stir  of  preparation,  and  numer 
ous  vessels  were  assembled  and  equipped  at  Tangier  to  convey 
the  invading  army  across  the  straits.  Twelve  thousand  men 
were  chosen  for  this  expedition :  most  of  them  light  Arabian 
troops,  seasoned  in  warfare,  and  fitted  for  hardy  and  rapid  en 
terprise.  Among  them  were  many  horsemen,  mounted  on  fleet 
Arabian  steeds.  The  whole  was  put  under  the  command  of  the 
veteran  Taric  el  Tuerto,  or  the  one-eyed,  in  whom  Muza  re 
posed  implicit  confidence  as  in  a  second  self.  Taric  accepted 
the  command  with  joy ;  his  martial  fire  was  roused  at  the  idea 
of  having  such  an  army  under  his  sole  command,  and  such  a 
country  to  overrun,  and  he  secretly  determined  never  to  return 
unless  victorious. 

He  chose  a  dark  night  to  convey  his  troops  across  the  straits 
of  Hercules,  and  by  break  of  day  they  began  to  disembark  at 
Tarifa  before  the  country  had  time  to  take  the  alarm.  A  few 
Christians  hastily  assembled  from  the  neighbourhood  and  op 
posed  their  landing,  but  were  easily  put  to  flight.  Taric  stood 
on  the  sea-side,  and  watched  until  the  last  squadron  had 
landed,  and  all  the  horses,  armour,  and  munitions  of  war, 
were  brought  on  shore ;  he  then  gave  orders  to  set  fire  to  the 
ships.  The  Moslems  were  struck  with  terror  when  they  be- 

*  Conde,  part  1,  c.  8. 


THE  LEGEND   OF  DON  RODERICK.  41 

held  their  fleet  wrapped  in  flames  and  smoke,  and  sinking 
beneath  the  waves.  "  How  shall  we  escape,"  exclaimed  they, 
"if  the  fortune  of  war  should  be  against  us?"  "There  is  no 
escape  for  the  coward !"  cried  Taric,  "  the  brave  man  thinks  of 
none;  your  only  chance  is  victory."  "  But  how  without  -ships 
shall  we  ever  return  to  our  homes?"  "Your  home,"  replied 
Taric,  "is  before  you;  but  you  must  win  it  with  your  swords." 

While  Taric  was  yet  talking  with  his  followers,  says  one  of 
the  ancient  chroniclers,  a  Christian  female  was  descried  wav 
ing  a  white  pennon  on  a  reed,  in  signal  of  peace.  On  being 
brought  into  the  presence  of  Taric,  she  prostrated  herself  be 
fore  him.  ' '  Seiior, "  said  she,  ' '  I  am  an  ancient  woman ;  and 
it  is  now  full  sixty  years  past  and  gone  since,  as  I  was  keeping 
vigils  one  winter's  night  by  the  fireside,  I  heard  my  father, 
who  was  an  exceeding  old  man,  read  a  prophecy  said  to  have 
been  written  by  a  holy  friar ;  and  this  was  the  purport  of  the 
prophecy,  that  a  time  would  arrive  when  our  country  would 
be  invaded  and  conquered  by  a  people  from  Africa  of  a  strange 
garb,  a  strange  tongue,  and  a  strange  religion.  They  were  to 
be  led  by  a  strong  and  valiant  captain,  who  would  be  known 
by  these  signs:  on  his  right  shoulder  he  would  have  a  hairy 
mole,  and  his  right  arm  would  be  much  longer  than  the  left, 
and  of  such  length  as  to  enable  him  to  cover  his  knee  with  his 
hand  without  bending  his  body." 

Taric  listened  to  the  old  beldame  with  grave  attention,  and 
when  she  had  concluded,  he  laid  bare  his  shoulder,  and  lo! 
there  was  the  mole  as  it  had  been  described;  his  right  arm, 
also,  was  in  verity  found  to  exceed  the  other  in.length,  though 
not  to  the  degree  that  had  been  mentioned.  Upon  this  the 
Arab  host  shouted  for  joy,  and  felt  assured  of  conquest. 

The  discreet  Antonio  Agapida,  though  he  records  this  cir 
cumstance  as  it  is  set  down  in  ancient  chronicle,  yet  withholds 
his  belief  from  the  pretended  prophecy,  considering  the  whole 
a  cunning  device  of  Taric  to  increase  the  courage  of  his  troops. 
"  Doubtless,"  says  he,  "  there  was  a  collusion  between  this  an 
cient  sibyl  and  the  crafty  son  of  Ishmr,el;  for  these  infidel 
leaders  were  full  of  damnable  inventions  to  work  upon  the  su 
perstitious  fancies  of  their  followers,  and  to  inspire  them  with 
a  blind  confidence  in  the  success  of  their  arms." 

Be  this  as  it  may,  the  veteran  Taric  took  advantage  of  the 
excitement  of  his  soldiery,  and  led  them  forward  to  gain  pos 
session  of  a  strong-hold,  which  was,  in  a  manner,  the  key  to 
ill  the  adjacent  country.  This  was  a  lofty  mountain  or  pro- 


42  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

montory  almost  surrounded  by  the  sea,  and  connected  with 
the  main  land  by  a  narrow  isthmus.  It  was  called  the  rock 
of  Calpe,  and,  like  the  opposite  rock  of  Ceuta,  commanded  the 
entrance  to  the  Mediterranean  Sea.  Here  in  old  times,  Her 
cules  had  set  up  one  of  his  pillars,  and  the  city  of  Heraclea  had 
been  built. 

As  Taric  advanced  against  this  promontory,  he  was  opposed 
by  a  hasty  levy  of  the  Christians,  who  had  assembled  under 
the  banner  of  a  Gothic  noble  of  great  power  and  importance, 
whose  domains  lay  along  the  mountainous  coast  of  the  Medi 
terranean.  The  name  of  this  Christian  cavalier  was  Theodo- 
mir,  but  he  has  universally  been  called  Tadmir  by  the  Arabian 
historians,  and  is  renowned  as  being  the  first  commander  that 
made  any  stand  against  the  inroad  of  the  Moslems.  He  was 
about  forty  years  of  age ;  hardy,  prompt,  and  sagacious ;  and 
had  all  the  Gothic  nobles  been  equally  vigilant  and  shrewd  in 
their  defence,  the  banner  of  Islam  would  never  have  triumphed 
over  the  land. 

Theodomir  had  but  seventeen  hundred  men  under  his  com 
mand,  and  these  but  rudely  armed;  yet  he  made  a  resolute 
stand  against  the  army  of  Taric,  and  defended  the  pass  to  the 
promontory  with  great  valour.  He  was  at  length  obliged  to 
retreat,  and  Taric  advanced  and  planted  his  standard  on  the 
rock  of  Calpe,  and  fortified  it  as  his  strong-hold,  and  as  the 
means  of  securing  an  entrance  into  the  land.  To  commemo 
rate  his  first  victory,  he  changed  the  name  of  the  promontory, 
and  called  it  Gibel  Taric,  or  the  Mountain  of  Tarib,  but  in  pro 
cess  of  time  the  name  has  gradually  been  altered  to  Gibraltar. 

In  the  meantime,  the  patriotic  chieftain  Theodomir,  having 
collected  his  routed  forces,  encamped  with  them  on  the  skirts 
of  the  mountains,  and  summoned  the  country  round  to  join  his 
standard.  He  sent  off  missives  in  all  speed  to  the  king,  im 
parting  in  brief  and  blunt  terms  the  news  of  the  invasion,  and 
craving  assistance  with  equal  frankness.  "Seilor,"  said  he, 
in  his  letter,  ' '  the  legions  of  Africa  are  upon  us,  but  whether 
they  come  from  heaven  or  earth  I  know  not.  They  seem  to 
have  fallen  from  the  clouds,  for  they  have  no  ships.  We  have 
been  taken  by  surprise,  overpowered  by  numbers,  and  obliged 
to  retreat ;  and  they  have  fortified  themselves  in  our  territory. 
Send  us  aid,  serior,  with  instant  speed,  or  rather,  come  your 
self  to  our  assistance."  * 

*  Conde,  part  i,  c.  9. 


THE  LEGEND  OF  DON  RODERICK.  43 


CHAPTER  XI. 

MEASURES  OF    DON    RODERICK    ON  HEARING  OF  THE    INVASION- 
EXPEDITION  OF  ATAULPHO— VISION  OF  TARIC. 

WHEN  Don  Roderick  heard  that  legions  of  turbaned  troops 
had  poured  into  the  land  from  Africa,  he  called  to  mind  the 
visions  and  predictions  of  the  necromantic  tower,  and  great  fear 
came  upon  him.  But,  though  sunk  from  his  former  hardihood 
and  virtue,  though  enervated  by  indulgence,  and  degraded  in 
spirit  by  a  consciousness  of  crime,  he  was  resolute  of  soul,  and 
roused  himself  to  meet  the  coming  danger.  He  summoned  a 
hasty  levy  of  horse  and  foot,  amounting  to  forty  thousand; 
but  now  were  felt  the  effects  of  the  crafty  counsel  of  Count 
Julian,  for  the  best  of  the  horses  and  armour  intended  for  the 
public  service,  had  been  sent  into  Africa,  and  were  really  in 
possession  of  the  traitors.  Many  nobles,  it  is  true,  took  the 
field  with  the  sumptuous  array  with  which  they  had  been  ac 
customed  to  appear  at  tournaments  and  jousts,  but  most  of 
their  vassals  were  destitute  of  weapons,  and  oased  in  cuirasses 
of  leather,  or  suits  of  armour  almost  consumed  by  rust.  They 
were  without  discipline  or  animation;  and  their  horses,  like 
themselves,  pampered  by  slothful  peace,  were  little  fitted  to 
bear  the  heat,  the  dust,  and  toil  of  long  campaigns. 

This  army  Don  Roderick  put  under  the  command  of  his  kins 
man  Ataulpho,  a  prince  of  the  royal  blood  of  the  Goths,  and  of 
a  noble  and  generous  nature ;  and  he  ordered  him  to  march 
with  all  speed  to  meet  the  foe,  and  to  recruit  his  forces  on  the 
way  with  the  troops  of  Theodomir. 

In  the  meantime,  Taric  el  Tuerto  had  received  large  rein 
forcements  from  Africa,  and  the  adherents  of  Count  Julian, 
and  all  those  discontented  with  the  sway  of  Don  Roderick,  hr.d 
flocked  to  his  standard ;  for  many  were  deceived  by  the  repre 
sentations  of  Count  Julian,  and  thought  that  the  Arabs  had 
come  to  aid  him  in  placing  the  sons  of  Witiza  upon  the  throne. 
Guided  by  the  count,  the  troops  of  Taric  penetrated  into  vari 
ous  parts  of  the'  country,  and  laid  waste  the  land ;  bringing 
back  loads  of  spoil  to  their  strong-hold  at  the  rock  of  Calpe. 

The  Prince  Ataulpho  marched  with  his  army  through  Anda 
lusia,  and  was  joined  by  Theodomir  with  his  troops;  he  met 
with  various  detachments  of  the  enemy  foraging  the  country, 
and  had  several  bloody  skirmishes ;  but  he  succeeded  in 


44  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

ing  them  before  him,  and  they  retreated  to  the  rock  of  Calpe, 
where  Taric  lay  gathered  up  with  the  main  body  of  his  army. 

The  prince  encamped  not  far  from  the  bay  which  spreads  it 
self  out  before  the  promontory.  In  the  evening  he  despatched 
the  veteran  Theodomir,  with  a  trumpet,  to  demand  a  parley  of 
the  Arab  chieftain,  who  received  the  envoy  in  his  tent,  sur 
rounded  by  his  captains.  Theodomir  was  frank  and  abrupt  in 
speech,  for  the  most  of  his  life  had  been  passed  far  from  courts. 
He  delivered,  in  round  terms,  the  message  of  the  Prince  Ataul- 
pho ;  upbraiding  the  Arab  general  with  his  wanton  invasion  of 
the  land,  and  summoning  him  to  surrender  his  army  or  to  ex 
pect  no  mercy. 

The  single  eye  of  Taric  el  Tuerto  glowed  like  a  coal  of  fire  at 
this  message.  "Tell  your  commander,"  replied  he,  "that  I 
have  crossed  the  strait  to  conquer  Spain,  nor  will  I  return  un 
til  I  have  accomplished  my  purpose.  Tell  him  I  have  men 
skilled  in  war,  and  armed  in  proof,  with  whose  aid  I  trust  soon 
to  give  a  good  account  of  his  rabble  host." 

A  murmur  of  applause  passed  through  the  assemblage  of 
Moslem  captains.  Theodomir  glanced  on  them  a  look  of  defi 
ance,  but  his  eye  rested  on  arenegado  Christian,  one  of  his  own 
ancient  comrades,  and  a  relation  of  Count  Julian.  "As  to 
you,  Don  Graybeard,"  said  he,  "you  who  turn  apostate  in 
your  declining  age,  I  here  pronounce  you  a  traitor  to  your 
God,  your  king,  and  country ;  and  stand  ready  to  prove  it  this 
instant  upon  your  body,  if  field  be  granted  me." 

The  traitor  knight  was  stung  with  rage  at  these  words,  for 
truth  rendered  them  piercing  to  the  heart.  He  would  have 
immediately  answered  to  the  challenge,  but  Taric  forbade  it, 
and  ordered  that  the  Christian  envoy  should  be  conducted  from 
the  camp.  '"Tis  well,"  replied  Theodomir;  "God  will  give 
me  the  field  which  you  deny.  Let  yon  hoary  apostate  look  to 
himself  to-morrow  in  the  battle,  for  I  pledge  myself  to  use  my 
lance  upon  no  other  foe  until  it  has  shed  his  blood  upon  the 
native  soil  he  has  betrayed."  So  saying,  he  left  the  camp,  nor 
could  the  Moslem  chieftains  help  admiring  the  honest  indigna 
tion  of  this  patriot  knight,  while  they  secretly  despised  his 
renagado  adversary. 

The  ancient  Moorish  chroniclers  relate  many  awful  portents, 
and  strange  and  mysterious  visions,  which  appeared  to  the 
commanders  of  either  army  during  this  anxious  night.  Cer 
tainly  it  was  a  night  of  fearful  suspense,  and  Moslem  and  Chris 
tian  looked  forward  with  doubt  to  the  fortune  of  the  coming 


THE  LEGEND   OF  DON  RODERICK.  45 

day.  The  Spanish  sentinel  walked  his  pensive  round,  listen 
ing  occasionally  to  the  vague  sounds  from  the  distant  rock  of 
Calpe,  and  eyeing  it  as  the  mariner  eyes  the  thunder-cloud, 
pregnant  with  terror  and  destruction.  The  Arabs,  too,  from 
their  lofty  cliffs  beheld  the  numerous  camp-fires  of  the  Chris 
tians  gradually  lighted  up,  and  saw  that  they  were  a  powerful 
host ;  at  the  same  time  the  night  breeze  brought  to  their  ears 
the  sullen  roar  of  the  sea  which  separated  them  from  Africa. 
When  they  considered  their  perilous  situation,  an  army  on  one 
side,  with  a  whole  nation  aroused  to  reinforce  it,  and  on  the 
other  an  impassable  sea,  the  spirits  of  many  of  the  warriors 
were  cast  down,  and  they  repented  the  day  when  they  had 
ventured  into  this  hostile  land. 

Taric  marked  their  despondency,  but  said  nothing.  Scarce 
had  the  first  streak  of  morning  light  trembled  along  the  sea, 
however,  when  he  summoned  his  principal  warriors  to  his 
tent.  "  Be  of  good  cheer,"  said  he ;  "Allah  is  with  us,  and  has 
sent  his  Prophet  to  give  assurance  of  his  aid.  Scarce  had  I  re 
tired  to  my  tent  last  night,  when  a  man  of  a  majestic  and  vener 
able  presence  stood  before  me.  He  was  taller  by  a  palm  than 
the  ordinary  race  of  men,  his  flowing  beard  was  of  a  golden 
hue,  and  his  eyes  were  so  bright  that  they  seemed  to  send  forth 
flashes  of  fire.  I  have  heard  the  Emir  Bahamet,  and  other  an- 
•  cient  men,  describe  the  Prophet,  whom  they  had  seen  many 
times  while  on  earth,  and  such  was  his  form  and  lineament. 
'Fear  nothing,  O  Taric,  from  the  morrow,'  said  he;  'I  will  be 
with  thee  in  the  fight.  Strike  boldly,  then,  and  conquer. 
Those  of  thy  followers  who  survive  the  battle  will  have  this 
land  for  an  inheritance ;  for  those  who  fall,  a  mansion  in  para 
dise  is  prepared,  and  immortal  houris  await  their  coming. '  He 
spake  and  vanished ;  I  heard  a  strain  of  celestial  melody,  and 
my  tent  was  filled  with  the  odours  of  Arabia  the  happy." 
"Such,"  say  the  Spanish  chroniclers,  "was  another  of  the 
arts  by  which  this  arch  son  of  Ishmael  sought  to  animate  the 
hearts  of  his  followers;  and  the  pretended  vision  has  been  re 
corded  by  the  Arabian  writers^ as  a  veritable  occurrence.  Mar 
vellous,  indeed,  was  the  effect*  produced  by  it  upon  the  infidel 
soldiery,  who  now  cried  out  with  eagerness  to  be  led  against 
the  foe." 


46  LEGENDS   OF  THE  COX  QUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

CHAPTER  XII. 

BATTLE  OF  CALPE— FATE  OF  ATAULPHO. 

THE  gray  summits  of  the  rock  of  Calpe  brightened  with  the 
first  rays  of  morning,  as  the  Christian  army  issued  forth  from 
its  encampment.  The  Prince  Ataulpho  rode  from  squadron 
to  squadron,  animating  his  soldiers  for  the  battle.  "Never 
should  we  sheath  our  swords, "  said  he,  ' '  while  these  infidels 
have  a  footing  in  the  land.  They  are  pent  up  within  yon  rocky 
mountain;  we  must  assail  them  in  their  rugged  hold.  We 
have  a  long  day  before  us ;  let  not  the  setting  sun  shine  upon 
one  of  their  host  who  is  not  a  fugitive,  a  captive,  or  a  corpse. " 

The  words  of  the  prince  were  received  with  shouts,  and  the 
army  moved  towards  the  promontory.  As  they  advanced, 
they  heard  the  clash  of  cymbals  and  the  bray  of  trumpets,  and 
the  rocky  bosom  of  the  mountain  glittered  with  helms  and 
spears  and  scimitars ;  for  the  Arabs,  inspired  with  fresh  confi 
dence  by  the  words  of  Taric,  were  sallying  forth,  with  flaunt 
ing  banners,  to  the  combat. 

The  gaunt  Arab  chieftain  stood  upon  a  rock  as  his  troops 
marched  by ;  his  buckler  was  at  his  back,  and  he  brandished 
in  his  hand  a  double-pointed  spear.  Calling  upon  the  several 
leaders  by  their  names,  he  exhorted  them  to  direct  their  at 
tacks  against  the  Christian  captains,  and  especially  against 
Ataulpho;  "for  the  chiefs  being  slain, "  said  he,  "  their  follow 
ers  will  vanish  from  before  us  like  the  morning  mist." 

The  Gothic  nobles  were  easily  to  be  distinguished  by  the 
splendour  of  their  arms,  but  the  Prince  Ataulpho  was  con 
spicuous  above  all  the  rest  for  the  youthful  grace  and  majesty 
of  his  appearance,  and  the  bravery  of  his  array.  He  was 
mounted  on  a  superb  Andalusian  charger,  richly  caparisoned 
with  crimson  velvet,  embroidered  with  gold.  His  surcoat  was 
of  like  colour  and  adornment,  and  the  plumes  that  waved 
above  his  burnished  helmet  were  of  the  purest  white.  Ten 
mounted  pages,  magnificently  attired,  followed  him  to. the  field, 
but  their  duty  was  not  so  much  to  tight  as  to  attend  upon  their 
lord,  and  to  furnish  him  with  steed  or  weapon. 

The  Christian  troops,  though  "irregular  and  undisciplined, 
were  full  of  native  courage ;  for  the  old  warrior  spirit  of  their 
Gothic  sires  still  glowed  in  their  bosoms.  There  were  two  bat 
talions  of  infantry,  but  Ataulpho  stationed  them  in  the  rear;* 


THE  LEGEND  OF  DON  RODERICK.  47 

"for  God  forbid,"  said  he,  "  that  foot-soldiers  should  have  the 
place  of  honour  in  the  battle,  when  I  have  so  many  valiant 
cavaliers."  As*  the  armies  drew  nigh  to  each  other,  however, 
it  was  discovered  that  the  advance  of  the  Arabs  was  com 
posed  of  infantry.  Upon  tliis  the  cavaliers  checked  their 
steeds,  and  requested  that  the  foot-soldiery  might  advance 
and  disperse  this  losel  crew,  holding  it  beneath  their  dignity 
to  contend  with  pedestrian  foes.  The  prince,  however,  com 
manded  them  to  charge ;  upon  which,  putting  spurs  to  their 
steeds,  they  rushed  upon  the  foe. 

The  Arabs  stood  the  shock  manfully,  receiving  the  horses 
upon  the  points  of  their  lances ;  many  of  the  riders  were  shot 
down  with  bolts  from  cross-bows,  or  stabbed  with  the  poniards 
of  the  Moslems.  The  cavaliers  succeeded,  however,  in  break 
ing  into  the  midst  of  the  battalion  and  throwing  it  into  con 
fusion,  cutting  down  some  with  their  swords,  transpiercing 
others  with  their  spears,  and  trampling  many  under  the  hoofs 
of  their  horses.  At  this  moment,  they  were  attacked  by  a 
band  of  Spanish  horsemen,  the  recreant  partisans  of  Count 
Julian.  Their  assault  bore  hard  upon  their  countrymen,  who 
were  disordered  by  the  contest  with  the  foot-soldiers,  and 
many  a  loyal  Christian  knight  fell  beneath  the  sword  of  an 
unnatural  foe. 

The  foremost  among  these  recreant  warriors  was  the  rene- 
gado  cavalier  whom  Theodomir  had  challenged  in  the  tent  of 
Taric.  He  dealt  his  blows  about  him  with  a  powerful  arm  and 
with  malignant  fury,  for  nothing  is  more  deadly  than  the 
hatred  of  an  apostate.  In  the  midst  of  his  career  he  was 
espied  by  the  hardy  Theodomir,  who  came  spurring  to  the 
encounter.  ''Traitor,"  cried  he,  "I  have  kept  my  vow.  This 
lance  has  been  held  sacred  from  all  other  foes  to  make  a  pas 
sage  for  thy  perjured  soul."  The  renegado  had  been  renowned 
for  prowess  before  he  became  a  traitor  to  his  country,  but  guilt 
will  sap  the  courage  of  the  stoutest  heart.  When  he  beheld 
Theodomir  rushing  upon  him,  he  would  have  turned  and  fled ; 
pride  alone  withheld  him;  and,  though  an  admirable  master 
of  defence,  he  lost  all  skill  to  ward  the  attack  of  his  adversary. 
At  the  first  assault  the  lance  of  Theodomir  pierced  him  through 
and  through ;  he  fell  to  the  earth,  gnashed  his  teeth  as  he  rolled 
in  the  dust,  but  yielded  his  breath  without  uttering  a  word. 

The  battle  now  became  general,  and  lasted  throughout  the 
morning  with  varying  success.  The  stratagem  of  Taric,  how 
ever,  began  to  produce  its  effect.  The  Christian  leaders  and, 


48  7-/vY7A:.Y/>X   OF  Tllfi  COXQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

most  conspicuous  cavaliers  were  singled  out  and  severally 
assailed  by  overpowering  numbers.  They  fought  desperately, 
and  performed  miracles  of  prowess,  but  fell,*one  by  one,  be 
neath  a  thousand  wounds.  StilHhe  battle  lingered  on  through 
out  a  great  part  of  the  day,  and  as  the  declining  sun  shone 
through  the  clouds  of  dust,  it  seemed  as  if  the  conflicting  hosts 
were  wrapped  in  smoke  and  fire. 

The  Prince  Ataulpho  saw  that  the  fortune  of  battle  was 
against  him.  He  rode  about  the  field  calling  out  the  names 
of  the  bravest  of  his  knights,  but  few  answered  to  his  call ;  the 
rest  lay  mangled  on  the  field.  With  this  handful  of  warriors 
he  endeavoured  to  retrieve  the  day,  when  he  was  assailed  by 
Tenderos,  a  partisan  of  Count  Julian,  at  the  head  of  a  body  of 
recreant  Christians.  At  sight  of  this  new  adversary,  fire 
flashed  from  the  eyes  of  the  prince,  for  Tenderos  had  been 
brought  up  in  his  father's  palace.  "Well  dost  thou,  traitor!" 
cried  he,  ' '  to  attack  the  son  of  thy  lord,  who  gave  thee  bread ; 
thou,  who  hast  betrayed  thy  country  and  thy  God !" 

So  saying,  he  seized  a  lance  from  one  of  his  pages,  and 
charged  furiously  upon  the  apostate;  but  Tenderos  met  him 
in  mid  career,  and  the  lance  of  the  prince  was  shivered  upon 
his  shield.  Ataulpho  then  grasped  his  mace,  which  hung  at 
his  saddle-bow,  and  a  doubtful  fight  ensued.  Tenderos  was 
powerful  of  fame  and  superior  in  the  use  of  his  weapons,  but 
the  curse  of  treason  seemed  to  paralyse  his  arm.  He  wounded 
Ataulpho  slightly  between  the  greaves  of  his  armour,  but  the 
prince  dealt  a  blow  with  his  mace  that  crushed  through  helm 
and  skull  and  reached  the  brains;  and  Tenderos  fell  dead  to 
earth,  his  armour  rattling  as  he  fell. 

At  the  same  moment,  a  javelin  hurled  by  an  Arab  trans 
pierced  the  horse  of  Ataulpho,  which  sunk  beneath  him.  The 
prince  seized  the  reins  of  the  steed  of  Tenderos,  but  the  faith 
ful  animal,  as  though  he  knew  him  to  be  the  foe  of  his  late  lord, 
ivared  and  plunged  and  refused  to  let  him  mount.  The  prince, 
however,  used  him  as  a  shield  to  ward  off  the  press  of  foes, 
while  with  his  sword  he  defended  himself  against  those  in 
front  of  him.  Taric  ben  Zeyad  arrived  at  the  scene  of  con 
flict,  and  paused  for  a  moment  in  admiration  of  the  surpassing 
prowess  of  the  prince;  recollecting,  however,  that  his  fall 
would  be  a  death-blow  to  his  army,  he  spurred  upon  him, 
and  wounded  him  severely  with  his  scimitar.  Before  he 
oould  repeat  his  blow,  Theodomir  led  up  a  body  of  Christian 
cavaliers  to  the  rescue,  and  Taric  was  parted  from  his  prey  by 


THE  LEOKM)   OF  D0.\  RODERICK.  49 

the  tumult  of  the  fight.  The  prince  sank  to  the  earth,  covered 
with  wounds  and  exhausted  by  the  loss  of  blood.  A  faithful 
page  drew  him  from  under  the  hoofs  of  the  horses,  and,  aided 
by  a  veteran  soldier,  an  ancient  vassal  of  Ataulpho,  conveyed 
him  to  a  short  distance  from  the  scene  of  battle,  by  the  side  of 
a  small  stream  that  gushed  out  from  among  rocks.  They 
stanched  the  blood  that  flowed  from  his  wounds,  and  washed 
the  dust  from  his  face,  and  laid  him  beside  the  fountain.  The 
page  sat  at  his  head,  and  supported  it  on  his  knees,  and  the 
veteran  stood  at  his  feet,  with  his  brow  bent  and  his  eyes  full 
of  sorrow.  The  prince  gradually  revived,  and  opened  his  eyes. 
"How  fares  the  battle?"  said  he.  "The  struggle  is  hard," 
replied  the  soldier,  "  but  the  day  may  yet  be  ours." 

The  prince  felt  that  the  hour  of  his  death  was  at  hand,  and 
ordered  that  they  should  aid  him  to  rise  upon  his  knees. 
They  supported  him  between  them,  and  he  prayed  fervently 
for  a  short  time,  when,  finding  his  strength  declining,  he 
beckoned  the  veteran  to  sit  down  beside  him  on  the  reck. 
Continuing  to  kneel,  he  confessed  himself  to  that  ancient  sol 
dier,  having  no  priest  or  friar  to  perform  that  office  in  this 
hour  of  extremity.  When  he  had  so  done,  he  sunk  again  upon 
the  earth  and  pressed  it  with  his  lips,  as  if  he  would  take  a 
fond  farewell  of  his  beloved  country.  The  page  would  then 
have  raised  his  head,  but  found  that  his  lord  had  yielded  up 
the  ghost. 

A  number  of  Arab  warriors,  who  came  to  the  fountain  to 
slake  their  thirst,  cut  off  the  head  of  the  prince  and  bore  it  in 
triumph  to  Taric,  crying,  "Behold  the  head  of  the  Christian 
leader."  Taric  immediately  ordered  that  the  head  should  be 
put  upon  the  end  of  a  lance,  together  with  the  surcoat  of  the 
prince,  and  borne  about  the  field  of  battle,  with  the  sound  of 
trumpets,  atabals,  and  cymbals. 

When  the  Christians  beheld  the  surcoat,  and  knew  the  fea 
tures  of  the  prince,  they  were  struck  with  horror,  and  heart 
and  hand  failed  them.  Theodomir  endeavoured  in  vain  to 
rally  them;  they  threw  by  their  weapons  and  fled;  and  they 
continued  to  fly,  and  the  enemy  to  pursue  and  slay  them,  until 
the  darkness  of  the  night.  The  Moslems  then  returned  and 
plundered  the  Christian  camp,  where  they  found  abundant 
spoil. 


50  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

* 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

TERROR  OF  THE  COUNTRY — RODERICK  ROUSES  HIMSELF  TO  ARMS. 

THE  scattered  fugitives  of  the  Christian  army  spread  terror 
throughout  the  land.  The  inhabitants  of  the  towns  and  vil 
lages  gathered  around  them  as  they  applied  at  their  gates  for 
food,  or  laid  themselves  down  faint  and  wounded  beside  the 
public  fountains.  When  they  related  the  tale  of  their  defeat, 
old  men  shook  their  heads  and  groaned,  and  the  women 
uttered  cries  and  lamentations.  So  strange  and  unlooked-for 
a  calamity  filled  them  with  consternation  and  despair ;  for  it 
was  long  since  the  alarm  of  war  had  sounded  in  their  land,  and 
this  was  a  warfare  that  carried  chains  and  slavery,  and  all 
kinds  of  horrors  in  its  train. 

Don  Roderick  was  seated  with  his  beauteous  queen,  Exilona, 
in  the  royal  palace,  which  crowned  the  rocky  summit  of  Toledo, 
when  the  bearer  of  ill-tidings  came  galloping  over  the  bridge 
of  the  Tagus.  "  What  tidings  from  the  army?"  demanded  the 
king,  as  the  panting  messenger  was  brought  into  his  presence. 
"Tidings  of  great  woe,"  exclaimed  the  soldier.  "The  prince 
has  fallen  in  battle.  I  saw  his  head  and  surcoat  upon  a  Moor 
ish  lance,  and  the  army  was  overthrown  and  fled." 

At  hearing  these  words,  Roderick  covered  his  face  with  his 
hands,  and  for  some  time  sat  in  silence ;  and  all  his  courtiers 
stood  mute  and  aghast,  and  no  one  dared  to  speak  a  word.  In 
that  awful  space  of  time  passed  before  his  thoughts  all  his 
errors  and  his  crimes,  and  all  the  evils  that  had  been  predicted 
in  the  necromantic  tower.  His  mind  was  filled  with  horror 
and  confusion,  for  the  hour  of  his  destruction  seemed  at  hand ; 
but  he  subdued  his  agitation  by  his  strong  and  haughty  spirit; 
and  when  he  uncovered  his  face  no  one  could  read  on  his  brow 
the  trouble  and  agony  of  his  heart.  Still  every  hour  brought 
fresh  tidings  of  disaster.  Messenger  after  messenger  came 
spurring  into  the  city,  distracting  it  with  new  alarms.  The 
infidels,  they  said,  were  strengthening  themselves  in  the  land  : 
host  after  host  were  pouring  in  from  Africa :  the  seaboard  of 
Andalusia  glittered  with  spears  and  scimitars.  Bands  of  tur- 
baned  horsemen  had  overrun  the  plains  of  Sidonia,  even  to  the 
banks  of  the  Guadiana.  Fields  were  laid  waste,  towns  and 
cities  plundered,  the  inhabitants  carried  into  captivity,  and 
the  whole  country  lay  in  smoking  desolation.  v 


THE  LEGEND   OF  DON  RODERICK.  51 

Roderick  heard  all  these  tidings  with  an  undaunted  aspect, 
nor  did  he  ever  again  betray  sign  of  consternation ;  but  the 
anxiety  of  his  soul  was  evident  in  his  warlike  preparations. 
He  issued  orders  that  every  noble  and  prelate  of  his  kingdom 
should  put  himself  at  the  head  of  his  retainers  and  take  the 
field,  and  that  every  man  capable  of  bearing  arms  should 
hasten  to  his  standard,  bringing  whatever  horse  and  mule 
and  weapon  he  possessed;  and  he  appointed  the  plain  of 
Cordova  for  the  place  where  the  army  was  to  assemble. 
Throwing  by,  then,  all  the  trappings  of  his  late  slothful  and 
voluptuous  life,  and  arming  himself  for  warlike  action,  he  de 
parted  from  Toledo  at  the  head  of  his  guard,  composed  of  the 
flower  of  the  youthful  nobility.  His  queen,  Exilona,  accom 
panied  him,  for  she  craved  permission  to  remain  in  one  of  the 
cities  of  Andalusia,  that  she  might  be  near  her  lord  in  this 
time  of  peril. 

Among  the  first  who  appeared  to  hail  the  arrival  of  the  king 
at  Cordova,  was  the  Bishop  Oppas,  the  secret  partisan  of  the 
traitor  Julian.  He  brought  with  him  his  two  nephews,  Evan 
and  Siseburto,  the  sons  of  the  late  king  Witiza,  and  a  great 
host  of  vassals  and  retainers,  all  well  armed  and  appointed; 
for  they  had  been  furnished  by  Count  Julian  with  a  part  of 
the  arms  sent  by  the  king  to  Africa.  The  bishop  was  smooth 
of  tongue,  and  profound  in  his  hypocrisy ;  his  pretended  zeal 
and  devotion,  and  the  horror  with  which  he  spoke  of  the 
treachery  of  his  kinsman,  imposed  upon  the  credulous  spirit 
of  the  k-ing,  and  he  was  readily  admitted  into  his  most  secret 
councils. 

The  alarm  of  the  infidel  invasion  had  spread  throughout  the 
land,  and  roused  the  Gothic  valour  of  the  inhabitants.  On  re 
ceiving  the  orders  of  Roderick,  every  town  and  hamlet,  every 
mountain  and  valley,  had  sent  forth  its  fighting  men,  and  the 
whole  country  was  on  the  march  towards  Andalusia.  In  a  lit 
tle  while  there  were  gathered  together,  on  the  plain  of  Cor 
dova,  near  fifty  thousand  horsemen,  and  a  countless  host  of 
foot-soldiers.  The  Gothic  nobles  appeared  in  burnished  ar 
mour,  curiously  inlaid  and  adorned,  with  chains  and  jewels  of 
gold,  and  ornaments  of  precious  stones,  and  silken  scarfs,  and 
surcoats  of  brocade,  or  velvet  richly  embroidered ;  betraying 
the  luxury  and  ostentation  into  which  they  had  declined  from 
the  iron  hardihood  of  their  warlike  sires.  As  to  the  common 
people,  some  had  lances  and  shields  and  swords  and  cross 
bows,  but  the  greater  part  were  unarmed,  or  provided  merely 


52  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

with  slings,  and  clubs  studded  with  nails,  and  with  the  iron 
implements  of  husbandry ;  and  many  had  made  shields  for 
themselves  from  the  doors  and  windows  of  their  habitations. 
They  were  a  prodigious  host,  and  appeared,  say  the  Arabian 
chroniclers,  like  an  agitated  sea ;  but,  though  brave  in  spirit, 
they  possessed  no  knowledge  of  warlike  art,  and  were  ineffec 
tual  through  lack  of  arms  and  discipline. 

Several  of  the  most  ancient  and  experienced  cavaliers,  be 
holding  the  state  of  the  army,  advised  Don  Roderick  to  await 
the  arrival  of  more  regular  troops,  which  were  stationed  in 
Iberia,  Cantabria,  and  Gallia  Gothica;  but  this  counsel  was 
strenuously  opposed  by  the  Bishop  Oppas;  who  urged  the  king 
to  march  immediately  against  the  infidels.  ' '  As  yet, "  said  he, 
"  their  number  is  but  limited,  but  every  day  new  hosts  arrive, 
like  flocks  of  locusts,  from  Africa.  They  will  augment  faster 
than  we ;  they  are  living,  too,  at  our  expense,  and,  while  we 
pause,  both  armies  are  consuming  the  substance  of  the  land. M 

King  Roderick  listened  to  the  crafty  counsel  of  the  bishop, 
and  determined  to  advance  without  delay.  He  mounted  his 
war  horse,  Orelia,  and  rode  among  his  troops  assembled  on 
that  spacious  plain,  and  wherever  he  appeared  he  was  received 
with  acclamations ;  for  nothing  so  arouses  the  spirit  of  the  sol 
dier  as  to  behold  his  sovereign  in  arms.  He  addressed  them 
in  words  calculated  to  touch  their  hearts  and  animate  their 
courage.  "The  Saracens,"  said  he,  "are  ravaging  our  land, 
and  their  object  is  our  conquest.  Should  they  prevail,  your 
very  existence  as  a  nation  is  at  an  end.  They  will  overturn 
your  altars ;  trample  on  the  cross ;  lay  waste  your  cities ;  carry 
off  your  wives  and  daughters,  and  doom  yourselves  and  sons 
to  hard  and  cruel  slavery.  No  safety  remains  for  you  but  in 
the  prowess  of  your  arms.  For  my  own  part,  as  I  am  your 
king,  so  will  I  be  your  leader,  and  will  be  the  foremost  to  en 
counter  every  toil  and  danger." 

The  soldiery  answered  their  monarch  with  loud  acclama 
tions,  and  solemnly  pledged  themselves  to  fight  to  the  last 
gasp  in  defence  of  their  country  and  their  faith.  The  king 
then  arranged  the  order  of  their  march:  ah1  those  who  were 
armed  with  curiasses  and  coats  of  mail  were  placed  in  the 
front  and  rear;  the  centre  of  the  army  was  composed  of  a 
promiscuous  throng,  without  body  armour,  and  but  scantily 
provided  with  weapons. 

When  they  were  about  to  march,  the  king  called  to  him  a 
noble  cavalier  named  Ramiro,  and  delivering  him  the  royal 


THE  LEGEND   OF  DON  RODERICK.  53 

standard,  charged  him  to  guard  it  well  for  the  honour  of  Spain; 
scarcely,  however,  had  the  good  knight  received  it  in  his  hand, 
when  he  fell  dead  from  his  horse,  and  the  staff  of  the  standard 
wa,s  broken  in  twain.  Many  ancient  courtiers  who  were 
present,  looked  upon  this  as  an  evil  omen,  and  counselled  the 
king  not  to  set  forward  on  his  march  that  day ;  but,  disregard 
ing  all  auguries  and  portents,  he  ordered  the  royal  banner  to 
be  put  upon  a  lance  and  gave  it  in  charge  of  another  standard 
bearer :  then  commanding  the  trumpets  to  be  sounded,  he  de 
parted  at  the  head  of  his  host  to  seek  the  enemy. 

The  field  where  this  great  army  assembled  was  called,  from 
the  solemn  pledge  given  by  the  nobles  and  the  soldiery,  El 
campo  de  la  vcrdad;  or,  The  Field  of  Truth;  a  name,  says  the 
sage  chronicler  Abulcasim,  which  it  bears  even  to  the  present 
day.* 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

MARCH  OF  THE  GOTHIC  ARMY — ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  BANKS  OF 
THE  GU AD ALETE— MYSTERIOUS  PREDICTIONS  OF  A  PALMER  — 
CONDUCT  OF  PELISTES  THEREUPON. 

THE  hopes  of  Andalusia  revived  as  this  mighty  host  stretched 
in  lengthening  lines  along  its  fertile  plains ;  from  morn  until 
night  it  continued  to  pour  along,  with  sound  of  drum  and 
trumpet;  it  was  led  on  by  the  proudest  nobles  and  bravest 
cavaliers  in  the  land,  and,  had  it  possessed  arms  and  disci 
pline,  might  have  undertaken  the  conquest  of  the  world. 

After  a  few  days'  march,  Don  Roderick  arrived  in  sight  of 
the  Moslem  army,  encamped  on  the  banks  of  the  Guadalete,t 
where  that  beautiful  stream  winds  through  the  fertile  land  of 
Xeres.  The  infidel  host  was  far  inferior  in  number  to  the 
Christians,  but  then  it  was  composed  of  hardy  and  dexterous 
troops,  seasoned  to  war,  and  admirably  armed.  The  camp 
shone  gloriously  in  the  setting  sun,  and  resounded  with  the 
clash  of  cymbal,  the  note  of  the  trumpet,  and  the  neighing  of 
fiery  Arabian,  steeds.  There  were  swarthy  troops  from  every 


*  La  Perdida  de  Espana,  cap.  9.     Bleda,  L.  2,  c.  8. 

t  This  name  was  given  to  it  subsequently  by  the  Arabs.    It  signifies  the  River  of 
Death.    Vide  Pedraza,  Hist.  Granad.  p.  3,  c.  1. 


54        LEO  ENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

nation  of  the  African  coast,  together  with  legions  from  Syria 
and  Egypt,  while  the  light  Bedouins  were  careering  about  the 
adjacent  plain.  What  grieved  and  incensed  the  spirits  of  the 
Christian  warriors,  however,  was  to  behold,  a  little  apart  from 
the  Moslem  host,  an  encampment  of  Spanish  cavaliers,  with 
the  banner  of  Count  Julian  waving  above  their  tents.  They 
were  ten  thousand  in  number,  valiant  and  hardy  men,  the  most 
experienced  of  Spanish  soldiery,  most  of  them  having  served 
in  the  African  wars ;  they  were  well  armed  and  appointed  also, 
with  the  weapons  of  which  the  count  had  beguiled  his  sover 
eign  ;  and  it  was  a  grievous  sight  to  behold  such  good  soldiers 
arrayed  against  their  country  and  their  faith. 

The  Christians  pitched  their  tents  about  the  hour  of  vespers, 
at  a  short  league  distant  from  the  enemy,  and  remained  gazing 
with  anxiety  and  awe  upon  this  barbaric  host  that  had  caused 
such  terror  and  desolation  in  the  land :  for  the  first  sight  of  a 
hostile  encampment  in  a  country  disused  to  war,  is  terrible  to 
a  newly  enlisted  soldier.  A  marvellous  occurrence  is  recorded 
by  the  Arabian  chroniclers  as  having  taken  place  in  the  Chris 
tian  camp ;  but  discreet  Spanish  writers  relate  it  with  much 
modification,  and  consider  it  a  stratagem  of  the  wily  Bishop 
Oppas,  to  sound  the  loyalty  of  the  Christian  cavaliers. 

As  several  leaders  of  the  army  were  seated  with  the  bishop 
in  his  tent,  conversing  on  the  dubious  fortunes  of  the  ap 
proaching  contest,  an  ancient  pilgrim  appeared  at  the  en 
trance.  He  was  bowed  down  with  years,  his  snowy  beard 
descended  to  his  girdle,  and  he  supported  his  tottering  steps 
with  a  palmer's  staff.  The  cavaliers  rose  and  received  him 
with  great  reverence  as  he  advanced  within  the  tent.  Hold- 
ing  up  his  withered  hand,  "Woe,  woe  to  Spain!"  exclaimed 
he,  ' '  for  the  vial  of  the  wrath  of  Heaven  is  about  to  be  poured 
out.  Listen,  warriors,  and  take  warning.  Four  months  since, 
having  performed  my  pilgrimage  to  the  sepulchre  of  our  Lord 
in  Palestine,  I  was  on  my  return  towards  my  native  land. 
Wearied  and  way-worn,  I  lay  down  one  night  to  sleep  beneath 
a  palm  tree,  by  the  side  of  a  fountain,  when  I  was  awakened 
by  a  voice  saying  unto  me,  in  soft  accents,  '  Son  of  sorrow, 
why  sleepest  thou? '  I  opened  my  eyes,  and  beheld  one  of  fair 
and  beauteous  countenance,  in  shining  apparel,  a<nd  with  glori 
ous  wings,  standing  by  the  fountain ;  and  I  said,  '  Who  art 
thou,  who  callest  upon  me  in  this  deep  hour  of  the  night?' 

"'Fear  not,'  replied  the  stranger;  'I  am  an  angel  from 
heaven,  sent  to  reveal  unto  thee  the  fate  of  thy  country.  Be- 


TEE  LEGEND   OF  DON  RODERICK.  55 

hold,  the  sins  of  Roderick  have  come  up  before  God,  and  His 
anger  is  kindled  against  him,  and  He  has  given  him  up  to  he 
invaded  and  destroyed.  Hasten  then  to  Spain.,  and  seek  the 
camp  of  thy  countrymen.  Warn  them  that  such  only  shall  be 
saved  as  shall  abandon  Roderick;  but  those  who  adhere  to 
him  shall  share  his  punishment,  and  shall  fall  under  the  sword 
of  the  invader.'7' 

The  pilgrim  ceased,  and  passed  forth  from  the  tent ;  certain 
of  the  cavaliers  followed  him  to  detain  him,  that  they  might 
converse  further  with  him  about  these  matters,  but  he  was  no 
where  to  be  found.  The  sentinel  before  the  tent  said,  ' '  I  saw 
no  one  come  forth,  but  it  was  as  if  a  blast  of  wind  passed  by 
me,  and  there  was  a  rustling  as  of  dry  leaves." 

The  cavaliers  remained  looking  upon  each  other  with  aston 
ishment.  The  Bishop  Oppas  sat  with  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the 
ground,  and  shadowed  by  his  overhanging  brow.  At  length, 
breaking  silence,  in  a  low  and  faltering  voice:  "Doubtless," 
said  he,  ' '  this  message  is  from  God ;  and  since  He  has  taken 
compassion  upon  us,  and  given  us  notice  of  His  impending  judg 
ment,  it  behoves  us  to  hold  grave  council,  and  determine  how 
best  we  may  accomplish  His  will  and  avert  His  displeasure." 

The  chiefs  still  remained  silent  as  men  confounded.  Among 
them  was  a  veteran  noble  named  Pelistes.  He  had  distin 
guished  himself  in  the  African  wars,  fighting  side  by  side  with 
Count  Julian ;  but  the  latter  had  never  dared  to  tamper  with 
his  faith,  for  he  knew  his  stern  integrity.  Polistes  had  brought 
with  him  to  the  camp  his  only  son,  who  had  never  drawn  a 
sword  except  in  tourney.  When  the  young  man  saw  that  the 
veterans  held  their  peace,  the  blood  mantled  in  his  cheek,  and, 
overcoming  his  modesty,  he  broke  forth  with  a  generous 
warmth:  "I  know  not,  cavaliers,"  said  he,  "what  is  passing 
in  your  minds,  but  I  believe  this  pilgrim  to  be  an  envoy  from 
the  devil ;  for  none  else  could  have  given  such  dastard  and  per 
fidious  counsel.  For  my  own  part,  I  stand  ready  to  defend  my 
king,  my  country,  and  my  faith ;  I  know  no  higher  duty  than 
this ;  and  if  God  thinks  fit  to  strike  me  dead  in  the  perform 
ance  of  it,  His  sovereign  will  be  done !" 

When  the  young  man  had  risen  to  speak,  his  father  had 
fixed  his  eyes  upon  him  with  a  grave  and  stern  demeanour, 
leaning  upon  a  two-handed  sword.  As  soon  as  the  youth  had 
finished,  Pelistes  embraced  him  with  a  father's  fondness. 
"Thou  hast  spoken  well,  my  son,"  said  he;  "if  I  held  my 
peace  at  the  counsel  of  this  losel  pilgrim,  it  was  but  to  hear  thy 


56  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

opinion,  and  to  learn  whether  thou  wert  worthy  of  thy  lineage 
and  of  the  training  I  had  given  thee.  Hadst  thou  counselled 
otherwise  than  thou  hast  done,  hadst  thou  shown  thyself 
craven  and  disloyal ;  so  help  me  God,  I  would  have  struck  off 
thy  head  with  this  weapon  which  I  hold  in  my  hand.  But 
thou  hast  counselled  like  a  loyal  and  a  Christian  knight,  and  I 
thank  God  for  having  given  me  a  son  worthy  to  perpetuate  the 
honours  of  my  line.  As  to  this  pilgrim,  be  he  saint  or  be  he 
devil,  I  care  not ;  this  much  I  promise,  that  if  I  am  to  die  in 
defence  of  my  country  and  my  king,  my  life  shall  be  a  costly 
purchase  to  the  foe.  Let  each  man  make  the  same  resolve, 
and  I  trust  we  shall  yet  prove  the  pilgrim  a  lying  prophet. " 
The  words  of  Pelistes  roused  the  spirits  of  many  of  the  cava 
liers;  others,  however,  remained  full  of  anxious  foreboding, 
and  when  this  fearful  prophecy  was  rumoured  about  the  camp, 
as  it  presently  was  by  the  emissaries  of  the  bishop,  it  spread 
awe  and  dismay  among  the  soldiery. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

SKIRMISHING  OF  THE    ARMIES— PELISTES    AND    HIS  SON— PELISTES 
AND  THE  BISHOP. 

ON  the  following  day  the  two  armies  remained  regarding 
each  other  with  wary,  but  menacing  aspect.  About  noontide 
King  Roderick  sent  forth  a  chosen  force  of  five  hundred  horse 
and  two  hundred  foot,  the  best  armed  of  his  host,  to  skirmish 
with  the  enemy,  that,  by  gaining  some  partial  advantage,  they 
might  raise  the  spirits  of  the  army.  They  were  led  on  by 
Theodomir,  the  same  Gothic  noble  who  had  signalized  himself 
by  first  opposing  the  invasion  of  the  Moslems. 

The  Christian  squadrons  paraded  with  flying  pennons  in  the 
valley  which  lay  between  the  armies.  The  Arabs  were  not 
slow  in  answering  their  defiance.  A  large  body  of  horsemen 
sallied  forth  to  the  encounter,  together  with  three  hundred  of 
the  followers  of  Count  Julian.  There  was  hot  skirmishing 
about  the  field  and  on  the  banks  of  the  river;  many  gallant 
feats  were  displayed  on  either  side,  and  many  valiant  warriors 
were  slain.  As  the  night  closed  in,  the  trumpets  from  either 
camp  summoned  the  troops  to  retire  from  the  combat.  In  this 
day's  action  the  Christians  suffered  greatly  in  the  loss  of  their 


THE  LEGEND   OF  DON  RODERICK.  57 

distinguished  cavaliers ;  for  it  is  the  noblest  spirits  who  ven 
ture  most,  and  lay  themselves  open  to  danger ;  and  the  Mos 
lem  soldiers  had  instructions  to  single  out  the  leaders  of  the 
adverse  host.  All  this  is  said  to  have  been  devised  by  the 
perfidious  Bishop  Oppas,  who  had  secret  communications  with 
the  enemy,  while  he  influenced  the  councils  of  the  king ;  and 
who  trusted  that  by  this  skirmishing  warfare  the  flower  of  the 
Christian  troops  would  be  cut  off,  and  the  rest  disheartened. 

On  the  following  morning  a  larger  force  was  ordered  out  to 
skirmish,  and  such  of  the  soldiery  as  were  unarmed  were  com 
manded  to  stand  ready  to  seize  the  horses  and  strip  off  the 
armour  of  the  killed  and  wounded.  Among  the  most  illus 
trious  of  the  warriors  who  fought  that  day  was  Pelistes,  the 
Gothic  noble  who  had  so  sternly  checked  the  tongue  of  the 
Bishop  Oppas.  He  led  to  the  field  a  large  body  of  his  own 
vassals  and  retainers,  and  of  cavaliers  trained  up  in  his  house, 
who  had  followed  him  to  the  wars  in  Africa,  and  who  looked 
up  to  him  more  as  a  father  than  a  chieftain.  Beside  him  was 
his  only  son,  who  now  for  the  first  time  was  fleshing  his  sword 
in  battle.  The  conflict  that  day  was  more  general  and  bloody 
than  the  day  preceding ;  the  slaughter  of  the  Christian  warriors 
was  immense,  from  their  lack  of  defensive  armour;  and  as 
nothing  could  prevent  the  flower  of  the  Gothic  chivalry  from 
spurring  to  the  combat,  the  field  was  strewed  with  the  bodies 
of  the  youthful  nobles.  None  suffered  more,  however,  than 
the  warriors  of  Pelistes.  Their  leader  himself  was  bold  and 
hardy,  and  prone  to  expose  himself  to  danger ;  but  years  and 
experience  had  moderated  his  early  fire ;  his  son,  however,  was 
eager  to  distinguish  himself  in  this,  his  first  essay,  and  rushed 
with  impetuous  ardour  into  the  hottest  of  the  battle.  In  vain 
his  father  called  to  caution  him ;  he  was  ever  in  the  advance, 
and  seemed  unconscious  of  the  perils  that  surrounded  him. 
The  cavaliers  and  vassals  of  his  father  followed  him  with  de 
voted  zeal,  and  many  of  them  paid  for  their  loyalty  with  their 
lives.  When  the  trumpets  sounded  in  the  evening  for  retrea^, 
the  troops  of  Pelistes  were  the  last  to  reach  the  camp.  They 
came  slowly,  and  mournfully,  and  much  decreased  in  number. 
Their  veteran  commander  was  seated  on  his  war-horse,  but  the 
blood  trickled  from  the  greaves  of  his  armour.  His  valiant 
son  was  borne  on  the  shields  of  his  vassals ;  when  they  laid 
him  on  the  earth  near  to  where  the  king  was  standing,  they 
found  that  the  heroic  youth  had  expired  of  his  wounds.  The 
cavaliers  surrounded  the  body  and  gave  utterance  to  their 


58  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN 

grief,  but  the  father  restrained  his  agony,  and  looked  on  with 
the  stern  resignation  of  a  soldier. 

Don  Roderick  surveyed  the  field  of  battle  with  a  rueful  eye, 
for  it  was  covered  with  the  mangled  bodies  of  his  most  illus 
trious  warriors;  he  saw,  too,  with  anxiety,  that  the  common 
people,  unused  to  war  and  unsustained  by  discipline,  were  har 
assed  by  incessant  toils  and  dangers,  and  were  cooling  in  their 
zeal  and  courage. 

The  crafty  Bishop  Oppas  marked  the  internal  trouble  of  the 
king,  and  thought  a  favourable  moment  had  arrived  to  sway 
him  to  his  purpose.  He  called  to  his  mind  the  various  portents 
and  prophecies  which  had  forerun  their  present  danger.  "  Let 
not  my  lord  the  king,"  said  he,  "make  light  of  these  mysteri 
ous  revelations,  which  appear  to  be  so  disastrously  fulfilling. 
The  hand  of  Heaven  appears  to  be  against  us.  Destruction  is 
impending  over  our  heads.  Our  troops  are  rude  and  unskilful, 
but  slightly  armed,  and  much  cast  down  in  spirit.  Better  is  it 
that  we  should  make  a  treaty  with  the  enemy,  and,  by  grant 
ing  part  of  his  demands,  prevent  the  utter  ruin  of  our  country. 
If  such  counsel  be  acceptable  to  my  lord  the  king,  I  stand 
ready  to  depart  upon  an  embassy  to  the  Moslem  camp." 

Upon  hearing  these  words,  Pelistes,  who  had  stood  in  mourn 
ful  silence,  regarding  the  dead  body  of  his  son,  burst  forth 
with  honest  indignation.  "By  this  good  sword,"  said  he, 
"the  man  who  yields  such  dastard  counsel  deserves,  death 
from  the  hand  of  his  countryman  rather  than  from  the  foe ; 
and,  were  it  not  for  the  presence  of  the  king,  may  I  forfeit 
salvation  if  I  would  not  strike  him  dead  upon  the  spot." 

The  bishop  turned  an  eye  of  venom  upon  Pelistes.  * '  My 
lord,"  said  he,  "  I,  too,  bear  a  weapon,  and  know  how  to  wield 
it.  Were  the  king  not  present,  you  would  not  dare  to  menace, 
nor  should  you  advance  one  step  without  my  hastening  to 
meet  you." 

The  king  interposed  between  the  jarring  nobles,  and  rebuked 
IJje  impetuosity  of  Pelistes,  but  at  the  same  time  rejected  the 
counsel  of  the  bishop.  "The  event  of  this  conflict,"  said  he, 
"is  in  the  hand  of  God;  but  never  shall  my  sword  return 
to  its  scabbard  while  an  infidel  invader  remains  within  the 
land." 

He  then  held  a  council  with  his  captains,  and  it  was  de 
termined  to  offer  .the  enemy  general  battle  on  the  following 
day.  A  herald  was  despatched  defying  Taric  ben  Zeyad  to 
the  contest,  and  the  defiance  was  gladly  accepted  by  the 


THE  LEGEND   OF  DON  RODERICK.  59 

Moslem  chieftain.*  Don  Roderick  then  formed  the  plan  of  ac 
tion,  and  assigned  to  each  commander  his  several  station,  after 
which  he  dismissed  his  officers,  and  each  one  sought  his  tent, 
to  prepare  by  diligence  or  repose  for  the  next  day's  eventful 
contest. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

TRAITOROUS  MESSAGE  OF  COUNT  JULIAN. 

TARIC  BEN  ZEYAD  had  been  surprised  by  the  valour  of  the 
Christian  cavaliers  in  the  recent  battles,  and  at  the  number  and 
apparent  devotion  of  the  troops  which  accompanied  the  king 
to  the  field.  The  confident  defiance  of  Don  Roderick  increased 
his  surprise.  When  the  herald  had  retired,  he  turned  an  eye 
of  suspicion  on  Count  Julian.  ' '  Thou  hast  represented  thy 
countrymen,"  said  he,  "as  sunk  in  effeminacy  and  lost  to  all 
generous  impulse ;  yet  I  find  them  fighting  with  the  courage 
and  the  strength  of  lions.  Thou  hast  represented  thy  king 
as  detested  by  his  subjects  and  surrounded  by  secret  treason ; 
but  I  behold  his  tents  whitening  the  hills  and  dales,  while 
thousands  are  hourly  flocking  to  his  standard.  Woe  unto  thee 
if  thou  hast  dealt  deceitfully  with  us,  or  betrayed  us  with  guile 
ful  words. " 

Don  Julian  retired  to  his  tent  in  great  trouble  of  mind,  and 
fear  came  upon  him  that  the  Bishop  Oppas  might  play  him 
false;  for  it  is  the  lot  of  traitors  ever  to  distrust  each  other. 
He  called  to  him  the  same  page  who  had  brought  him  the 
letter  from  Florinda,  revealing  the  story  of  her  dishonour. 

"Thou  knowest,  my  trusty  page,"  said  he,  "that  I  have 
reared  thee  in  my  household,  and  cherished  thee  above  all 
thy  companions.  If  thou  hast  loyalty  and  affection  for  thy 
lord,  now  is  the  time  to  serve  him.  Hie  thee  to  the  Christian 
camp,  and  find  thy  way  to  the  tent  of  the  Bishop  Oppas.  If 
any  one  ask  thee  who  thou  art,  tell  them  thou  art  of  the  house 
hold  of  the  bishop,  and  bearer  of  missives  from  Cordova. 
When  thou  art  admitted  to  the  presence  of  the  bishop,  show 
him  this  ring,  and  he  will  commune  with  thee  in  secret.  Then 
tell  him  Count  Julian  greets  him  as  a  brother,  and  demands 
how  the  wrongs  of  his  daughter  Florinda  are  to  be  redressed. 

*  Bleda,  Cronica 


(JO  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

Mark  well  his  reply,  and  bring  it  word  for  word.  Have  thj 
lips  closed,  but  thine  eyes  and  ears  open;  and  observe  every 
thing  of  note  in  the  camp  of  the  king.  So,  speed  thee  on  thy 
errand— away,  away !" 

The  page  hastened  to  saddle  a  Barbary  steed,  fleet  as  the 
wind,  and  of  a  jet  black  colour,  so  as  not  to  be  easily  discerni 
ble  in  the  night.  He  girded  on  a  sword  and  a  dagger,  slung  an 
Arab  bow  with  a  quiver  of  arrows  at  his  side,  and  buckler  at 
his  shoulder.  Issuing  out  of  the  camp,  he  sought  the  banks  of 
the  Guadalete,  and  proceeded  silently  along  its  stream,  which 
reflected  the  distant  fires  of  the  Christian  camp.  As  he  passed 
by  the  place  which  had  been  the  scene  of  the  recent  conflict, 
he  heard,  from  time  to  time,  the  groan  of  some  expiring  war 
rior  who  had  crawled  among  the  reeds  on  the  margin  of  the 
river;  and  sometimes  his  steed  stepped  cautiously  over  the 
mangled  bodies  of  the  slain.  The  young  page  was  unused  to 
the  sights  of  war,  and  his  heart  beat  quick  within  him.  He 
was  hailed  by  the  sentinels  as  he  approached  the  Christian 
camp,  and,  on  giving  the  reply  taught  him  by  Count  Julian, 
was  conducted  to  the  tent  of  the  Bishop  Oppas. 

The  bishop  had  not  yet  retired  to  his  couch.  When  he  be 
held  the  ring  of  Count  Julian,  and  heard  the  words  of  his  mes 
sage,  he  saw  that  the  page  was  one  in  whom  he  might  confide. 
"Hasten  back  to  thy  lord,"  said  he,  "and  tell  him  to  have 
faith  in  me  and  all  shall  go  well.  As  yet  I  have  kept  my 
troops  out  of  the  combat.  They  are  all  fresh,  weU  armed,  and 
well  appointed.  The  king  has  confided  to  myself,  aided  by  the 
princes  Evan  and  Siseburto,  the  command  of  a  wing  of  the 
army.  To-morrow,  at  the  hour  of  noon,  when  both  armies  are 
in  the  heat  of  action,  we  will  pass  over  with  our  forces  to  the 
Moslems.  But  I  claim  the  compact  made  with  Taric  ben 
Zeyad,  that  my  nephews  be  placed  in  dominion  over  Spain, 
and  tributary  only  to  the  Caliph  of  Damascus."  With  this 
traitorous  message  the  page  departed.  He  led  his  black  steed 
by  the  bridle,  to  present  less  mark  for  observation,  as  he  went 
stumbling  along  near  the  expiring  fires  of  the  camp.  On  pass 
ing  the  last  outpost,  where  the  guards  were  half  slumbering 
on  their  arms,  he  was  overheard  and  summoned,  but  leaped 
lightly  into  the  saddle  and  put  spurs  to  his  steed.  An  arrow 
whistled  by  his  ear,  and  two  more  stuck  in  the  target  which 
he  had  thrown  upon  his  back.  The  clatter  of  swift  hoofs 
echoed  behind  him,  but  he  had  learnt  of  the  Arabs  to  fight 
and  fly.  Plucking  a  shaft  from  his  quiver,  and  turning  and 


THE  LEGEND   OF  DON  RODERICK.  61 

rising  in  his  stirrups  as  his  courser  galloped  at  full  speed,  he 
drew  the  arrow  to  the  head  and  launched  it  at  his  pursuer. 
The  twang  of  the  bow  string  was  followed  by  the  crash  of  ar 
mour,  and  a  deep  groan,  as  the  horseman  tumbled  to  the  earth. 
The  page  pursued  his  course  without  further  molestation,  and 
arrived  at  the  Moslem  camp  before  the  break  of  day. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

LAST  DAY  OF  THE  BATTLE. 

A  LIGHT  had  burned  throughout  the  night  in  the  tent  of  the 
king,  and  anxious  thoughts  and  dismal  visions  troubled  his 
repose.  If  he  fell  into  a  slumber,  he  beheld  in  his  dreams  the . 
shadowy  phantoms  of  the  necromantic  tower,  or  the  injured 
Florinda,  pale  and  dishevelled,  imprecating  the  vengeance  of 
heaven  upon  his  head.  In  the  mid- watches  of  the  night,  when 
all  was  silent  except  the  footsteps  of  the  sentinel,  pacing  before 
his  tent,  the  king  rose  from  his  couch,  and  walking  forth 
looked  thoughtfully  upon  the  martial  scene  before  him.  The 
pale  crescent  of  the  moon  hung  over  the  Moorish  camp,  and 
dimly  lighted  up  the  windings  of  the  Guadalete.  The  heart  of 
the  king  was  heavy  and  oppressed ;  but  he  felt  only  for  himself, 
says  Antonio  Agapida:  he  thought  nothing  of  the  perils  im 
pending  over  the  thousands  of  devoted  subjects  in  the  camp 
below  him ;  sleeping,  as  it  were,  on  the  margin  of  their  graves. 
The  faint  clatter  of  distant  hoofs,  as  if  in  rapid  flight,  reached 
the  monarch's  ear,  but  the  horsemen  were  not  to  be  descried. 
At  that  very  hour,  and  along  the  shadowy  banks  of  that  river, 
here  and  there  gleaming  with  the  scanty  moonlight,  passed 
the  fugitive  messenger  of  Count  Julian,  with  the  plan  of  the 
next  day's  treason. 

The  day  had  not  yet  dawned,  when  the  sleepless  and  im 
patient  monarch  summoned  his  attendants  and  arrayed  him 
self  for  the  field.  He  then  sent  for  the  venerable  Bishop 
Urbino,  who  had  accompanied  him  to  the  camp,  and,  laying 
aside  his  regal  crown,  he  knelt  with  head  uncovered,  and  con 
fessed  his  sins  before  the  holy  man.  After  this  a  solemn  mass 
was  performed  in  the  royal  tent,  and  the  eucharist  adminis 
tered  to  the  monarch.  When  these  ceremonies  were  con 
cluded,  he  besought  the  archbishop  to  depart  forthwith  for 


62  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

Cordova,  there  to  await  the  issue  of  the  battle,  and  to  be  ready 
to  bring  forward  reinforcements  and  supplies.  The  archbishop 
saddled  his  mule  and  departed  just  as  the  faint  blush  of  morn 
ing  began  to  kindle  in  the  east.  Already  the  camp  resounded 
with  the  thrilling  call  of  the  trumpet,  the  clank  of  armour, 
and  the  tramp  and  neigh  of  steeds.  As  the  archbishop  passed 
through  the  camp,  he  looked  with  a  compassionate  heart  on 
this  vast  multitude,  of  whom  so  many  were  soon  to  perish. 
The  warriors  pressed  to  kiss  his  hand,  and  many  a  cavalier  full 
of  youth  and  fire  received  his  benediction,  who  was  to  lie  stiff 
and  cold  before  the  evening. 

When  the  troops  were  marshalled  for  the  field,  Don  Roderick 
prepared  to  sally  forth  in  the  state  and  pomp  with  which  the 
Gothic  kings  were  wont  to  go  to  battle.  He  was  arrayed  in 
robes  of  gold  brocade;  his  sandals  were  embroidered  with 
pearls  and  diamonds;  he  had  a  sceptre  in  his  hand,  and  he 
wore  a  regal  crown  resplendent  with  inestimable  jewels.  Thus 
gorgeously  apparelled,  he  ascended  a  lofty  chariot  of  ivory, 
the  axle-trees  of  which  were  of  silver,  and  the  wheels  and  pole 
covered  with  plates  of  burnished  gold.  Above  his  head  was  a 
canopy  of  cloth  of  gold  embossed  with  armorial  devices,  and 
studded  with  precious  stones.*  This  sumptuous  chariot  was 
drawn  by  milk-white  horses,  with  caparisons  of  crimson 
velvet,  embroidered  with  pearls.  A  thousand  youthful  cava 
liers  surrounded  the  car ;  all  of  the  noblest  blood  and  bravest 
spirit;  all  knighted  by  the  king's  own  hand,  and  sworn  to 
defend  him  to  the  last. 

When  Roderick  issued  forth  in  this  resplendent  state,  says 
an  Arabian  writer,  surrounded  by  his  guards  in  gilded  armour 
and  waying  plumes  and  scarfs  and  surcoats  of  a  thousand  dyes, 
it  was  as  if  the  sun  were  emerging  in  the  dazzling  chariot  of 
the  day  from  amidst  the  glorious  clouds  of  morning. 

As  the  royal  car  rolled  along  in  front  of  the  squadrons,  the 
soldiers  shouted  with  admiration.  Don  Roderick  waved  his 
sceptre  and  addressed  them  from  his  lofty  throne,  reminding 
them  of  the  horror  and  desolation  which  had  already  been 
spread  through  the  land  by  the  invaders.  He  called  upon 
them  to  summon  up  the  ancient  valour  of  their  race  and 
avenge  the  blood  of  their  brethren.  "One  day  of  glorious 
fighting,"  said  he,  "  and  this  infidel  horde  will  be  driven  into 
the  sea  or  will  perish  beneath  your  swords.  Forward  bravely 

*  Entrand.  Chron.  an.  Chris.  714. 


THE   LEG  EX D   OF  DON  RODERICK.  63 

to  the  fight ;  your  families  are  behind  you  praying  for  your 
success ;  the  invaders  of  your  country  are  before  you ;  God  is 
above  to  bless  his  Holy  cause,  and  your  king  leads  you  to  the 
field. "  The  army  shouted  with  one  accord,  ' '  Forward  to  the 
foe,  and  death  be  his  portion  who  shuns  the  encounter!" 

The  rising  sun  began  to  shine  along  the  glistening  waters  of 
the  Guadalete  as  the  Moorish  army,  squadron  after  squadron, 
came  sweeping  down  a  gentle  declivity  to  the  sound  of  martial 
music.  Their  turbans  and  robes,  of  various  dyes  and  fashions, 
gave  a  splendid  appearance  to  their  host ;  as  they  marched,  a 
cloud  of  dust  arose  and  partly  hid  them  from  the  sight,  but 
still  there  would  break  forth  flashes  of  steel  and  gleams  of 
burnished  gold,  like  rays  of  vivid  lightning ;  while  the  sound 
of  drum  and  trumpet,  and  the  clash  of  Moorish  cymbal,  were  as 
the  warlike  thunder  within  that  stormy  cloud  of  battle. 

As  the  armies  drew  near  each  other,  the  sun  disappeared 
among  gathering  clouds,  and  the  gloom  of  the  day  was  in 
creased  by  the  columns  of  dust  which  rose  from  either  host. 
At  length  the  trumpets  sounded  for"  the  encounter.  The  battle 
commenced  with  showers  of  arrows,  stones,  and  javelins.  The 
Christian  foot-soldiers  fought  to  disadvantage,  the  greater  part 
being  destitute  of  helm  or  buckler.  A  battalion  of  light 
Arabian  horsemen,  led  by  a  Greek  renegado  named  Maguel  el 
Kunii,  careered  in  front  of  the  Christian  line,  launching  their 
darts,  and  then  wheeling  off  beyond  the  reach  of  the  missiles 
hurled  after  them.  Theodomir  now  brought  up  his  seasoned 
troops  into  the  .action,  seconded  by  the  veteran  Pelistes,  and 
in  a  little  while  the  battle  became  furious  and  promiscuous. 
It  was  glorious  to  behold  the  old  Gothic  valour  shining  forth 
in  this  hour  of  fearful  trial.  Wherever  the  Moslems  fell, 
the  Christians  rushed  forward,  seized  upon  their  horses,  and 
stripped  them  of  their  armour  and  their  weapons.  They 
fought  desperately  and  successfully,  for  they  fought  for  their 
country  and  their  faith.  The  battle  raged  for  several  hours ; 
the  field  was  strewn  with  slain,  and  the  Moors,  overcome  by 
the  multitude  and  fury  of  their  foes,  began  to  falter. 

When  Taric  beheld  his  troops  retreating  before  the  enemy, 
he  threw  himself  before  them,  and,  rising  in  his  stirrups,  ' '  O 
Moslems!  conquerors  of  Africa!"  cried  he,  "whither  would 
you  fly?  The  sea  is  behind  you,  the  enemy  before;  you  have 
no  hope  but  in  your  valour  and  the  help  of  God.  Do  as  I  do 
£,nd  the  day  is  ours !" 

With  these  words  he  put  spurs  to  his  horse  and  sprung 


64  LEGENDS   OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

among  the  enemy,  striking  to  right  and  left,  cutting  down  and 
destroying,  while  his  steed,  fierce  as  himself,  trampled  upon 
the  foot-soldiers,  and  tore  them  with  his  teeth.  At  this  mo 
ment  a  mighty  shout  arose  in  various  parts  of  the  field ;  the 
noontide  hour  had  arrived.  The  Bishop  Oppas  with  the  two 
princes,*who  had  hitherto  kept  their  bands  out  of  the  fight, 
suddenly  went  over  to  the  enemy,  and  turned  their  weapons 
upon  their  astonished  countrymen.  From  that  moment  the 
fortune  of  the  day  was  changed,  and  the  field  of  battle  became 
a  scene  of  wild  confusion  and  bloody  massacre.  The  Christians 
knew  not  whom  to  contend  with,  or  whom  to  trust.  It  seemed 
as  if  madness  had  seized  upon  their  friends  and  kinsmen,  and 
that  their  worst  enemies  were  among  themselves. 

The  courage  of  Don  Roderick  rose  with  his  danger.  Throw 
ing  off  the  cumbrous  robes  of  royalty  and  descending  from  his 
car,  he  sprang  upon  his  steed  Orelia,  grasped  his  lance  and 
buckler,  and  endeavoured  to  rally  his  retreating  troops.  He 
was  surrounded  and  assailed  by  a  multitude  of  his  own  trai 
torous  subjects,  but  defended  himself  with  wondrous  prowess. 
The  enemy  thickened  around  him ;  his  loyal  band  of  cavaliers 
were  slain,  bravely  fighting  in  his  defence ;  the  last  that  was 
seen  of  the  king  was  in  the  midst  of  the  enemy,  dealing  death 
at  every  blow. 

A  complete  panic  fell  upon  the  Christians;  they  threw  away 
their  arms  and  fled  in  all  directions.  They  were  pursued  with 
dreadful  slaughter,  until  the  darkness  of  the  night  rendered  it 
impossible  to  distinguish  friend  from  foe.  Taric  then  called  off 
his  troops  from  the  pursuit,  and  took  possession  of  the  royal 
camp ;  and  the  couch  which  had  been  pressed  so  uneasily  on 
the  preceding  night  by  Don  Roderick,  now  yielded  sound  repose 
to  his  conqueror.* 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE  FIELD  OF  BATTLE  AFTER  THE  DEFEAT— THE  FATE  OF 
RODERICK. 

ON  the  morning  after  the  battle,  the  Arab  leader,  Taric  ben 
Zeyad,  rode  over  the  bloody  field  of  the  Guadalete,  strewed 
with  the  ruins  of  those  splendid  armies  which  had  so  lately 

*  This  battle  is  called  indiscriminately  by  historians  the  battle  of  Guadalete,  or 
of  Xeres,  from  the  neighbourhood  of  that  city. 


TEE  LliGKM)   OF  DON  RODERICK.  61 

passed  like  glorious  pageants  along  the  river  banks.  There  MOOT 
and  Christian,  horseman  and  horse,  lay  gashed  with  hideous 
wounds ;  and  the  river,  still  red  with  blood,  was  filled  with  the 
Jbodies  of  the  slain.  The  gaunt  Arab  was  as  a  wolf  roaming 
through  the  fold  he  had  laid  waste.  On  every  side  his  eye 
revelled  on  the  ruin  of  the  country,  on  the  wrecks  of  haughty 
Spain.  There  lay  the  flower  of  her  youthful  chivalry,  mangled 
and  destroyed,  and  the  strength  of  her  yeomanry  prostrated 
in  the  dust.  The  Gothic  noble  lay  confounded  with  his  vassals ; 
the  peasant  with  the  prince;  all  ranks  and  dignities  were 
mingled  in  one  bloody  massacre. 

When  Taric  had  surveyed  the  field,  he  caused  the  spoils  of 
the  dead  and  the  plunder  of  the  camp  to  be  brought  before  him. 
The  booty  was  immense.  There  were  massy  chains,  and  rare 
jewels  of  gold ;  pearls  and  precious  stones ;  rich  silks  and  bro 
cades,  and  all  other  luxurious  decorations  in  which  the  Gothic 
nobles  had  indulged  in  the  latter  times  of  their  degeneracy. 
A  vast  amount  of  treasure  was  likewise  found,  which  had  been 
brought  by  Roderick  for  the  expenses  of  the  war. 

Taric  then  ordered  that  the  bodies  of  the  Moslem  warriors 
should  be  interred ;  as  for  those  of  the  Christians,  they  were 
gathered  in  heaps,  and  vast  pyres  of  wood  were  formed,  on 
which  they  were  consumed.  The  flames  of  these  pyres  rose 
high  in  the  air,  and  were  seen  afar  off  in  the  night ;  and  when 
the  Christians  beheld  them  from  the  neighbouring  hills,  they 
beat  their  breasts  and  tore  their  hair,  and  lamented  over  them 
as  over  the  funeral  fires  of  their  country.  The  carnage  of  that 
battle  infected  the  air  for  two  whole  months,  and  bones  were 
seen  lying  in  heaps  upon  the  field  for  more  than  forty  years ; 
nay,  when  ages  had  passed  and  gone,  the  husbandman,  turn 
ing  up  the  soil,  would  still  find  fragments  of  Gothic  cuirasses 
and  helms,  and  Moorish  scimitars,  the  relics  of  that  dreadful 
fight. 

For  three  days  the  Arabian  horsemen  pursued  the  flying 
Christians ;  hunting  them  over  the  face  of  the  country ;  so  that 
but  a  scanty  number  of  that  mighty  host  escaped  to  teh1  the 
tale  of  their  disaster. 

Taric  ben  Zeyad  considered  his  victory  incomplete  so  long  as 
the  Gothic  monarch  survived;  he  proclaimed  great  rewards, 
therefore,  to  whomsoever  should  bring  Roderick  to  him,  dead 
or  alive.  A  diligent  search  was  accordingly  made  in  every 
direction,  but  for  a  long  time  in  vain;  at  length  a  soldier 
brought  to  Taric  the  head  of  a  Christian  warrior,  on  which  was 


66  LEGENDS  OF  THE   COXQUK8T  OF  SPAIN. 

a  cap  decorated  with  feathers  and  precious  stones.  The  Arab 
leader  received  it  as  the  head  of  the  unfortunate  Roderick, 
and  sent  it,  as  a  trophy  of  his  victory,  to  Mtiza  ben  Nosier, 
who,  in  like  manner,  transmitted  it  to  the  caliph  at  Damas 
cus.  The  Spanish  historians,  however,  have  always  denied  its' 
identity. 

A  mystery  has  ever  hung,  and  ever  must  continue  to  hang, 
over  the  fate  of  King  Roderick,  in  that  dark  and  doleful  day 
of  Spain.  Whether  he  went  down  amidst  the  storm  of  battle, 
and  atoned  for  his  sins  and  errors  by  a  patriot  grave,  or  whether 
he  survived  to  repent  of  them  in  hermit  exile,  must  remain 
matter  of  conjecture  and  dispute.  The  learned  Archbishop 
Rodrigo,  who  has  recorded  the  events  of  this  disastrous  field, 
affirms  that  Roderick  fell  beneath  the  vengeful  blade  of  the 
traitor  Julian,  and  thus  expiated  with  his  blood  his  crime 
against  the  hapless  Florinda ;  but  the  archbishop  stands  alone 
in  his  record  of  the  fact.  It  seems  generally  admitted  that 
Orelia,  the  favourite  war-horse,  was  found  entangled  in  a  marsh 
on  the  borders  of  the  Guadalete,  with  the  sandals  and  mantle 
and  royal  insignia  of  the  king  lying  close  by  him.  The  river  at 
this  place  ran  broad  and  deep,  and  was  encumbered  with  the 
dead  bodies  of  warriors  and  steeds ;  it  has  been  supposed,  there 
fore,  that  he  perished  in  the  stream ;  but  his  body  was  not 
found  within  its  waters. 

When  several  years  had  passed  away,  and  men's  minds,  being 
restored  to  some  degree  of  tranquillity,  began  to  occupy  them 
selves  about  the  events  of  this  dismal  day,  a  rumour  arose  that 
Roderick  had  escaped  from  the  carnage  on  the  banks  of  the 
Guadalete,  and  was  still  alive.  It  was  said,  that  having  from 
a  rising  ground  caught  a  view  of  the  whole  field  of  battle,  and 
seen  that  the  day  was  lost,  and  his  army  flying  in  all  directions, 
he  likewise  sought  his  safety  in  flight.  It  is  added,  that  the 
Arab  horsemen,  while  scouring  the  mountains  in  quest  of 
fugitives,  found  a  shepherd  arrayed  in  the  royal  robes,  and 
brought  him  before  the  conqueror,  believing  him  to  be  the  king 
himself.  Count  Julian  soon  dispelled  the  error.  On  being 
questioned,  the  trembling  rustic  declared  that  while  tending 
his  sheep  in  the  folds  of  the  mountains,  there  came  a  cavalier 
on  a  horse  wearied  and  spent  and  ready  to  sink  beneath  the 
spur.  That  the  cavalier  with  an  authoritative  voice  and  mena 
cing  air  commanded  him  to  exchange  garments  with  him,  and 
clad  himself  in  his  rude  garb  of  sheep-skin,  and  took  his  crook 
and  his  scrip  of  provisions,  and  continued  up  the  rugged  de- 


THE  LEGEND   OF  DON  RODERICK.  67 

files  of  the  mountains  leading  towards  Castile,  until  he  was 
lost  to  view.* 

This  tradition  was  fondly  cherished  by  many,  who  clung  to 
the  belief  in  the  existence  of  their  monarch  as  their  main  hope 
for  the  redemption  of  Spain.  It  was  even  affirmed  that  he  had 
taken  refuge,  with  many  of  his  host,  in  an  island  of  the  "Ocean 
sea,"  from  whence  he  might  yet  return  once  more  to  elevate 
his  standard,  and  battle  for  the  recovery  of  his  throne. 

Year  after  year,  however,  elapsed,  and  nothing  was  heard  of 
Don  Roderick ;  yet,  like  Sebastian  of  Portugal,  and  Arthur  of 
England,  his  name  continued  to  be  a  rallying  point  for  popular 
faith,  and  the  mystery  of  his  end  to  give  rise  to  romantic 
fables.  At  length,  when  generation  after  generation  had  sunk 
into  the  grave,  and  near  two  centuries  had  passed  and  gone, 
traces  were  said  to  be  discovered  that  threw  a  light  on  the  final 
fortunes  of  the  unfortunate  Roderick.  At  that  time,  Don 
Alphonso  the  Great,  King  of  Leon,  had  wrested  the  city  of 
Viseo  in  Lusitania  from  the  hands  of  the  Moslems.  As  his 
soldiers  were  ranging  about  the  city  and  its  environs,  one  of 
them  discovered  in  a  field,  outside  of  the  walls,  a  small  chapel 
or  hermitage,  with  a  sepulchre  in  front,  on  which  was  inscribed 
this  epitaph  in  Gothic  characters : 

HIC     REQUIESCIT    RUDERICUS, 
ULTIMUS   RKX   GOTHORUM. 

(Here  lies  Roderick, 
The  last  king  of  the  Goths.) 

It  has  been  believed  by  many  that  this  was  the  veritable 
tomb  of  the  monarch,  and  that  in  this  hermitage  he  had  finished 
his  clays  in  solitary  penance.  The  warrior,  as  he  contemplated 
the  supposed  tomb  of  the  once  haughty  Roderick,  forgot  all  his 
faults  and  errors,  and  shed  a  soldier's  tear  over  his  memory ; 
but  when  his  thoughts  turned  to  Count  Julian,  his  patriotic 
indignation  broke  forth,  and  with  his  dagger  he  inscribed  a 
rude  malediction  on  the  stone. 

"Accursed,"  said  he,  "be  the  impious  and  headlong  ven 
geance  of  the  traitor  Julian.  He  was  a  murderer  of  his  king ; 
a  destroyer  of  his  kindred;  a  betrayer  of  his  country.  May 
his  name  be  bitter  in  every  mouth,  and  his  memory  infamous 
to  all  generations!" 

Here  ends  the  legend  of  Don  Roderick. 

*  Bleda,  Cron.  L.  2,  c.  9.    Abulcasim  Tarif  Abentarique,  L.  1,  c.  10. 


68  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

ILLUSTRATIONS  OF  THE  FOREGOING  LEGEND. 

THE  TOMB  OF  RODERICK. 

THE  venerable  Sebastiano,  Bishop  of  Salamanca,  declares 
that  the  inscription  on  the  tomb  at  Viseo  in  Portugal  existed  in 
his  time,  and  that  he  had  seen  it.  A  particular  account  of  the 
exile  and  hermit  life  of  Roderick  is  furnished  by  Bergaiiza,  on 
the  authority  of  Portuguese  chronicles. 

Algunos  histcriadores  Portugueses  asseguran,  que  el  Rey 
Rodrigo,  perdida  la  battalia,  huyo  a  tierra  de  Merida,  y  se 
recogio  en  el  monasterio  de  Cauliniano,  en  donde,  arrepentido 
de  sus  culpas,  procure  confessarlas  con  muchas  lagrimas. 
Deseando  mas  retiro,  y  escogiendo  por  companero  a  un  monge 
llamado  Roman,  y  elevando  la  Imagen  de  Nazareth,  que  Cy- 
riaco  monge  de  nacion  griego  avra  traido  de  Jerusalem  al  mo 
nasterio  de  Cauliniano,  se  subio  a  un  monte  muy  aspero,  que 
estaba  sobre  el  mar,  junto  al  lugar  de  Pederneyra.  Vivio 
Rodrigo  en  compania  de  el  monge  en  el  hueco  de  una  gruta  por 
espacio  de  un  ailo ;  despues  se  passo  a  la  ermita  de  sail  Miguel, 
que  estaba  cerca  de  Viseo,  en  donde  murio  y  fue  sepultado. 

Puedese  ver  esta  relacion  en  las  notas  de  Don  Thomas  Tamayo 
sobre  Paulo  deacaiio.  El  chrom'con  de  san  Millan,  que  llega 
hasta  el  ano  883,  deze  que,  hasta  su  tiempo,  si  ignora  el  fin  del 
Rey  Rodrigo.  Pocos  afios  despues  el  Rey  Don  Alonzo  el  Magno, 
aviendo  ganado  la  ciudad  de  Viseo,  encontro  en  una  iglesia  el 
epitafio  que  en  romance  dize — aqui  yaze  Rodrigo,  ultimo  Rey 
de  los  Godos. — Berganza,  L.  1,  c.  13. 


THE  CAVE   OF  HERCULES. 

As  the  story  of  the  necromantic  tower  is  one  of  the  most 
famous  as  well  as  least  credible  points  in  the  history  of  Don 
Roderick,  it  may  be  well  to  fortify  or  buttress  it  by  some  ac 
count  of  another  marvel  of  the  city  of  Toledo.  This  ancient 
city,  which  dates  its  existence  almost  from  the  time  of  the 
flood,  claiming  as  its  founder  Tubal,  the  son  of  Japhet,  and 
grandson  of  Noah,*  has  been  the  warrior  hold  of  many  genera 
tions,  and  a  strange  diversity  of  races.  It  bears  traces  of  the 

*  Salazar,  Hist.  Gran.  Cardinal,  Prologo,  vol.  i.  plan  1. 


THE  LEGEND   OF  DON  RODERICK  69 

artifices  and  devices  of  its  various  occupants,  and  is  full  of 
mysteries  and  subjects  for  antiquarian  conjecture  and  perplex 
ity.  It  is  built  upon  a  high  rocky  promontory,  with  the  Tagus 
brawling  round  its  base,  and  is  overlooked  by  cragged  and  pre 
cipitous  hills.  These  hills  abound  with  clefts  and  caverns ;  and 
the  promontory  itself,  on  which  the  city  is  built,  bears  traces 
of  vaults  and  subterraneous  habitations,  which  are  occasionally 
discovered  under  the  ruins  of  ancient  houses,  or  beneath  the 
churches  and  convents. 

These  are  supposed  by  some  to  have  been  the  habitations  or 
retreats  of  the  primitive  inhabitants ;  for  it  was  the  custom  of 
the  ancients,  according  to  Pliny,  to  make  caves  in  high  and 
rocky  places,  and  live  in  them  through  fear  of  floods ;  and  such 
a  precaution,  says  the  worthy  Don  Pedro  de  Roxas,  in  his  his 
tory  of  Toledo,  was  natural  enough  among  the  first  Toledans, 
seeing  that  they  founded  their  city  shortly  after  the  deluge 
while  the  memory  of  it  was  still  fresh  in  their  minds. 

Some  have  supposed  these  secret  caves  and  vaults  to  have 
been  places  of  concealment  of  the  inhabitants  and  their  treas 
ure,  during  times  of  war  and  violence ;  or  rude  temples  for  the 
performance  of  religious  ceremonies  in  times  of  persecution. 
There  are  not  wanting  other,  and  grave  writers,  who  give  them 
a  still  darker  purpose.  In  these  caves,  say  they,  were  taught 
.the  diabolical  mysteries  of  magic;  and  here  were  performed 
those  infernal  ceremonies  and  incantations  horrible  in  the  eyes 
of  God  and  man.  "  History,"  says  the  worthy  Don  Pedro  de 
Roxas,  ' '  is  full  of  accounts  that  the  magi  taught  and  performed 
their  magic  and  their  superstitious  rites  in  profound  caves  and 
secret  places ;  because  as  this  art  of  the  devil  was  prohibited 
from  the  very  origin  of  Christianity,  they  always  sought  for 
hidden  places  in  which  to  practise  it. "  In  the  time  of  the  Moors 
this  art,  we  are  told,  was  publicly  taught  at  their  universities, 
the  same  as  astronomy,  philosophy,  and  mathematics,  and  at 
no  place  was  it  cultivated  with  more  success  than  at  Toledo. 
Hence  this  city  has  ever  been  darkly  renowned  for  mystic 
science ;  insomuch  that  the  magic  art  was  called  by  the  French, 
and  by  other  nations,  the  Arte  Toledana. 

Of  all  the  marvels,  however,  of  this  ancient,  picturesque, 
romantic,  and  necromantic  city,  none  in  modern  times  surpass 
the  cave  of  Hercules,  if  we  may  take  the  account  of  Don  Pedro 
de  Roxas  for  authentic.  The  entrance  to  this  cave  is  within 
the  church  of  San  Gines,  situated  in  nearly  the  highest  part  of 
the  city.  The  portal  is  secured  by  massy  doors,  opening  within 


70  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

the  walls  of  the  church,  but  which  are  kept  rigorously  closed. 
The  cavern  extends  under  the  city  and  beneath  the  bed  of  the 
Tagus  to  the  distance  of  three  leagues  beyond.  It  is,  in  some 
places,  of  rare  architecture,  built  of  small  stones  curiously 
wrought,  and  supported  by  columns  and  arches. 

In  the  year  1546  an  account  of  this  cavern  was  given  to  the 
archbishop  and  cardinal  Don  Juan  Martinez  Siliceo,  who, 
desirous  of  examining  it,  ordered  the  entrance  to  be  cleaned. 
A  number  of  persons,  furnished  with  provisions,  lanterns,  and 
cords,  then  went  in,  and  having  proceeded  about  half  a  league, 
came  to  a  place  where  there  was  a  kind  of  chapel  or  temple, 
having  a  table  or  altar,  with  several  statues  of  bronze  in  niches 
or  on  pedestals. 

While  they  were  regarding  this  mysterious  scene  of  ancient 
worship  or  incantation,  one  of  the  statues  fell,  with  a  noise 
that  echoed  through  the  cavern,  and  smote  the  hearts  of  the 
adventurers  with  terror.  Recovering  from  their  alarm  they 
proceeded  onward,  but  were  soon  again  dismayed  by  a  roaring 
and  rushing  sound  that  increased  as  they  advanced.  It  was 
made  by  a  furious  and  turbulent  stream,  the  dark  waters  of 
which  were  too  deep  and  broad  and  rapid  to  be  crossed.  By 
this  time  their  hearts  were  so  chilled  with  awe,  and  their 
thoughts  so  bewildered,  that  they  could  not  seek  any  other 
passage  by  which  they  might  advance ;  so  they  turned  back 
and  hastened  out  of  the  cave.  It  was  nightfall  when  they 
sallied  forth,  and  they  were  so  much  affected  by  the  terror 
they  had  undergone,  and  by  the  cold  and  damp  air  of  the 
cavern,  to  which  they  were  the  more  sensible  from  its  being  in 
the  summer,  that  all  of  them  fell  sick  and  several  of  them  died. 
Whether  the  archbishop  was  encouraged  to  pursue  his  re 
search  and  gratify  his  curiosity,  the  history  does  not  mention. 

Alonzo  Telles  de  Meneses,  in  his  history  of  the  world,  re 
cords,  that  not  long  before  his  time  a  boy  of  Toledo,  being 
threatened  with  punishment  by  his  master,  fled  and  took 
refuge  in  this  cave.  Fancying  his  pursuer  at  his  heels,  he 
took  no  heed  of  the  obscurity  or  coldness  of  the  cave,  but  kept 
groping  and  blundering  forward,  until  he  came  forth  at  three 
leagues'  distance  from  the  city. 

Another  and  very  popular  story  of  this  cave,  current  among 
the  common  people,  was,  that  in  its  remote  recesses  lay  con 
cealed  a  great  treasure  of  gold,  left  there  by  the  Romans. 
Whoever  would  reach  this  precious  hoard  must  pass  through 
several  caves  or  grottoes;  each  having  its  particular  terror, 


THE  LEGEND  OF  DON  RODERICK.     *  71 

and  all  under  the  guardianship  of  a  ferocious  dog,  who  has  the 
key  of  all  the  gates,  and  watches  day  and  night.  At  the  ap 
proach  of  any  one  he  shows  his  teeth,  and  makes  a  hideous 
growling;  but  no  adventurer  after  wealth  has  had  courage  to 
brave  a  contest  with  this  terrific  Cerberus. 

The  most  intrepid  candidate  on  record  was  a  poor  man  who 
had  lost  his  all,  and  had  those  grand  incentives  to  desperate 
enterprise,  a  wife  and  a  large  family  of  children.  Hearing  the 
story  of  this  cave,  he  determined  to  venture  alone  in  search  of 
the  treasure.  He  accordingly  entered,  and  wandered  many 
hours,  bewildered,  about  the  cave.  Of ten^ would  he  have  re 
turned,  but  the  thoughts  of  his  wife  and  children  urged  him 
on.  At  length  he  arrived  near  to  the  place  where  he  supposed 
the  treasure  lay  hidden ;  but  here,  to  his  dismay,  he  beheld 
the  floor  of  the  cavern  strewn  with  human  bones ;  doubtless 
the  remains  of  adventurers  like  himself,  who  had  been  torn  to 
pieces. 

Losing  all  courage,  he  now  turned  and  sought  his  way  out 
of  the  cave.  Horrors  thickened  upon  him  as  he  fled.  He 
beheld  direful  phantoms  glaring  and  gibbering  around  him, 
and  heard  the  sound  of  pursuit  in  the  echoes  of  his  footsteps 
He  reached  his  home  overcome  with  affright;  several  hours 
elapsed  before  he  could  recover  speech  to  tell  his  story,  and 
he  died  on  the  following  day. 

The  judicious  Don  Pedro  de  Eoxas  holds  the  account  of  the 
buried  treasure  for  fabulous,  but  the  adventure  of  this  un 
lucky  man  for  very  possible;  being  led  on  by  avarice,  or 
rather  the  hope  of  retrieving  a  desperate  fortune.  He,  more 
over,  pronounces  his  dying  shortly  after  coming  forth  as  very 
probable ;  because  the  darkness  of  the  cave ;  its  coldness ;  the 
fright  at  finding  the  bones ;  the  dread  of  meeting  the  imagi 
nary  dog,  all  joining  to  operate  upon  a  man  who  was  past  the 
prime  of  his  days,  and  enfeebled  by  poverty  and  scanty  food, 
might  easily  cause  his  death. 

Many  have  considered  this  cave  as  intended  originally  for  a 
sally  or  retreat  from  the  city  in  case  it  should  be  taken ;  an 
opinion  rendered  probable,  it  is  thought,  by  its  grandeur  and 
great  extent. 

The  learned  Salazar  de  Mendoza,  however,  in  his  history  of 
the  grand  cardinal  of  Spain,  affirms  it  as  an  established  fact, 
that  it  was  first  wrought  out  of  the  rock  by  Tubal,  the  son  of 
Japhet,  and  grandson  of  Noah,  and  afterwards  repaired  and 
greatly  augmented  by  Hercules  the  Egyptian,  who  made  it  his 


72          ^LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

habitation  after  he  had  erected  his  pillars  at  the  straits  of 
Gibraltar.  Here,  too,  it  is  said,  he  read  magic  to  his  follow 
ers,  and  taught  them  those  supernatural  arts  by  which  he 
accomplished  his  vast  achievements.  Others  think  that  it  was 
a  temple  dedicated  to  Hercules ;  as  was  the  case,  according  to 
Pomponius  Mela,  with  the  great  cave  in  the  rock  of  Gibraltar ; 
certain  it  is,  that  it  has  always  borne  the  name  of  ' '  The  Cave 
of  Hercules." 

There  are  not  wanting  some  who  have  insinuated  that  it  was 
a  work  dating  from  the  time  of  the  Romans,  and  intended  as 
a  cloaca  or  sewer  of  the  city ;  but  such  a  grovelling  insinuation 
will  be  treated  with  proper  scorn  by  the  reader,  after  the 
nobler  purposes  to  which  he  has  heard  this  marvellous  cavern 
consecrated. 

From  all  the  circumstances  here  adduced  from  learned  and 
reverend  authors,  it  will  be  perceived  that  Toledo  is  a  city 
fruitful  of  marvels,  and  that  the  necromantic  tower  of  Her 
cules  has  more  solid  foundation  than  most  edifices  of  similar 
import  in  ancient  history. 

The  writer  of  these  pages  will  venture  to  add  the  result  of 
his  personal  researches  respecting  the  far-famed  cavern  in 
question.  Rambling  about  Toledo  in  the  year  1826,  in  com 
pany  with  a  small  knot  of  antiquity-  hunters,  among  whom 
was  an  eminent  British  painter,*  and  an  English  nobleman, f 
wfao  has  since  distinguished  himself  in  Spanish  historical  re- 
seareh,  we  directed  our  steps  to  the  church  of  San  Gines,  and 
inquired  for  the  portal  of  the  secret  cavern.  The  sacristan  was 
a  voluble  and  communicative  man,  and  one  not  likely  to  be 
niggard  of  his  tongue  about  any  thing  he  knew,  or  slow  to 
boast  of  any  marvel  pertaining  to  his  church ;  but  he  professed 
u+ter  ignorance  of  the  existence  of  any  such  portal.  He  re 
membered  to  have  heard,  however,  that  immediately  under 
the  entrance  to  the  church  there  was  an  arch  of  mason-work, 
apparently  the  upper  part  of  some  subterranean  portal ;  but 
that  all  had  been  covered  up  and  a  pavement  laid  down  there 
on;  so  that  whether  it  led  to  the  magic  cave  or  the  necro 
mantic  tower  remains  a  mystery,  and  so  must  remain  until 
some  monarch  or  archbishop  shall  again  have  courage  and 
authority  to  break  the  spell. 

*  Mr.  D.  W-kie.  t  Lord  Mah— n. 


LEO END   OF  THE  SUBJUGATION  OF  SPAIN.         73 


LEGEND  OF  THE  SUBJUGATION  OF  SPAIN.' 


CHAPTER  I. 

CONSTERNATION    OF     SPAIN — CONDUCT     OF      THE      CONQUERORS— 
MISSIVES  BETWEEN  TARIC   AND  MUZA. 

THE  overthrow  of  King  Roderick  and  his  army  on  the  banks 
of  the  Guadalete,  threw  open  all  southern  Spain  to  the  inroads 
of  the  Moslems.  The  whole  country  fled  before  them ;  villages 
and  hamlets  were  hastily  abandoned ;  the  inhabitants  placed 
their  aged  and  infirm,  their  wives  and  children,  and  their  most 
precious  effects,  on  mules  and  other  beasts  of  burden,  and, 
driving  before  them  their  flocks  and  herds,  made  for  distant 
parts  of  the  land ;  for  the  fastnesses  of  the  mountains,  and  for 
such  of  the  cities  as  yet  possessed  walls  and  bulwarks.  Many 
gave  out,  faint  and  weary,  by  the  way,  and  fell  into  the  hands 
of  the  enemy ;  others,  at  the  distant  sight  of  a  turban  or  a 
Moslem  standard,  or  on  hearing  the  clangour  of  a  trumpet, 
abandoned  their  flocks  and  herds  and  hastened  their  flight 
with  their  families.  If  their  pursuers  gained  upon  them,  they 
threw  by  their  household  goods  and  whatever  was  of  burthen, 
and  thought  themselves  fortunate  to  escape,  naked  and  desti 
tute,  to  a  place  of  refuge.  Thus  the  roads  were  covered  with 
scattered  flocks  and  herds,  and  with  spoil  of  all  kind. 

The  Arabs,  however,  were  not  guilty  of  wanton  cruelty  or 
ravage;  on  the  contrary,  they  conducted  themselves  with  a 
moderation  but  seldom  witnessed  in  more  civilized  conquerors. 
Taric  el  Tuerto,  though  a  thorough  man  of  the  sword,  and  one 

*  In  this  legend  most  of  the  facts  respecting  the  Arab  inroads  into  Spain  are  on 
the  authority  of  Arabian  writers ;  who  had  the  most  accurate  means  of  informa 
tion.  Those  relative  to  the  Spaniards  are  chiefly  from  old  Spanish  chronicles.  It 
is  to  be  remarked  that  the  Arab  accounts  have  most  the  air  of  verity,  and  the 
events  as  they  relate  them  are  in  the  ordinary  course  of  common  life.  The  Span* 
ish  accounts,  on  the  contrary,  are  full  of  the  marvellous;  for  there  were  no  greater 
romancers  than  the  monkish  chroniclers. 


74     LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN.' 

whose  whole  thoughts  were  warlike,  yet  evinced  wonderful 
judgment  and  discretion.  He  checked  the  predatory  habits  of 
his  troops  with  a  rigorous  hand.  They  were  forbidden,  under 
pain  of  severe  punishment,  to  molest  any  peaceable  and  unfor 
tified  towns,  or  any  unarmed  and  unresisting  people,  who  re 
mained  quiet  in  their  homes.  No  spoil  was  permitted  to  be 
made  excepting  in  fields  of  battle,  in  camps  of  routed  foes,  or 
in  cities  taken  by  the  sword. 

Taric  had  little  need  to  exercise  his  severity ;  his  orders  were 
obeyed  through  love,  rather  than  fear,  for  he  was  the  idol  of 
his  soldiery.  They  admired  his  restlfiss  and  daring  spirit, 
which  nothing  could  dismay.  His  gaunt  and  sinewy  form, 
his  fiery  eye,  his  visage  seamed  with  scars,  were  suited  to  the 
hardihood  of  his  deeds;  and  when  mounted  on  his  foaming 
steed,  careering  the  field  of  battle  with  quivering  lance  or 
flashing  scimitar,  his  Arabs  would  greet  him  with  shouts  of 
enthusiasm.  But  what  endeared  him  to  them  more  than  all 
was  his  soldier-like  contempt  of  gain.  Conquest  was  his  only 
passion ;  glory  the  only  reward  he  coveted.  As  to  the  spoil  of 
the  conquered,  he  shared  it  freely  among  his  followers,  and 
squandered  his  own  portion  with  open-handed  generosity. 

While  Taric  was  pushing  his  triumphant  course  through 
Andalusia,  tidings  of  his  stupendous  victory  on  the  banks  of 
the  Guadalete  were  carried  to  Muza  ben  Nosier.  Messengers 
after  messengers  arrived,  vying  who  should  most  extol  the 
achievements  of  the  conqueror  and  the  grandeur  of  the  con 
quest.  "Taric, "said  they,  "has  overthrown  the  whole  force 
of  the  unbelievers  in  one  mighty  battle.  Their  king  is  slain ; 
thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  of  their  warriors  are  de 
stroyed  ;  the  whole  land  lies  at  our  mercy ;  and  city  after  city 
is  surrendering  to  the  victorious  arms  of  Taric. " 

The  heart  of  Muza  ben  Nosier  sickened  at  these  tidings,  and, 
instead  of  rejoicing  at  the  success  of  the  cause  of  Islam,  he 
trembled  with  jealous  fear  lest  the  triumphs  of  Taric  in  Spain 
should  eclipse  his  own  victories  in  Africa.  He  despatched  mis 
sives  to  the  Caliph  Waled  Almanzor,  informing  him  of  these 
new  conquests,  but  taking  the  whole  glory  to  himself,  and 
making  no  mention  of  the  services  of  Taric ;  or  at  least,  only 
mentioning  him  incidentally  as  a  subordinate  commander. 
"  The  battles,"  said  he,  "have  been  terrible  as  the  day  of  judg 
ment  ;  but  by  the  aid  of  Allah  we  have  gained  the  victory. " 

He  then  prepared  in  all  haste  to  cross  over  into  Spain  and 
assume  the  command  of  the  conquering  army ;  and  he  wrote 


LEGEND   OF  THE  SUBJUGATION  OF  SPAIN.         75 

a  letter  in  advance  to  interrupt  Taric  in  the  midst  of  his  career. 
"  Wherever  this  letter  may  find  thee,"  said  he,  "I  charge  thee 
halt  with  thy  army  and  await  my  coming.  Thy  force  is  inade 
quate  to  the  subjugation  of  the  land,  and  by  rashly  venturing, 
thou  mayst  lose  every  thing.  I  will  be  with  thee  speedily, 
with  a  reinforcement  of  troops  competent  to  so  great  an  enter 
prise." 

The  letter  overtook  the  veteran  Taric  while  in  the  full  glow 
of  triumphant  success;  having  overrun  some  of  the  richest- 
parts  of  Andalusia,  and  just  received  the  surrender  of  the  city 
of  Ecija.  As  he  read  the  letter  the  blood  mantled  in  his  sun 
burnt  cheek  and  fire  kindled  in  his  eye,  for  he  penetrated  the 
motives  of  Muza.  He  suppressed  his  wrath,  however,  and 
turning  with  a  bitter  expression  of  forced  composure  to  his 
captains,  " Unsaddle  your  steeds,"  said  he,  "and  plant  your 
lances  in  the  earth ;  set  up  your  tents  and  take  your  repose : 
for  we  must  await  the  coming  of  the  Wali  with  a  mighty  force 
to  assist  us  in  our  conquest." 

The  Arab  warriors  broke  forth  with  loud  murmurs  at  these 
words:  "What  need  have  we  of  aid,"  cried  they,  "when  the 
whole  country  is  flying  before  us ;  and  what  better  commander 
can  we  have  than  Taric  to  lead  us  on  to  victory?" 

Count  Julian,  also,  who  was  present,  now  hastened  to  give 
his  traitorous  counsel. 

"Why  pause,"  cried  he,  "at  this  precious  moment?  The 
great  army  of  the  Goths  is  vanquished,  and  their  nobles  are 
slaughtered  or  dispersed.  Follow  up  your  blow  before  the 
land^can  recover  from  its  panic.  Overrun  the  provinces,  seize 
upon  the  cities,  make  yourself  master  of  the  capital,  and  your 
conquest  is  complete. "  * 

The  advice  of  Julian  was  applauded  by  all  the  Arab  chief 
tains,  who  were  impatient  of  any  interruption  in  their  career  of 
conquest.  Taric  was  easily  persuaded  to  what  was  the  wish  of 
his  heart.  Disregarding  the  letter  of  Muza,  therefore,  he  pre 
pared  to  pursue  his  victories.  For  this  purpose  he  ordered  a 
review  of  his  troops  on  the  plain  of  Ecija.  Some  were  mounted 
on  steeds  which  they  had  brought  from  Africa ;  the  rest  he  sup 
plied  with  horses  taken  from  the  Christians.  He  repeated  his 
general  orders,  that  they  should  inflict  no  wanton  injury,  nor 
plunder  any  place  that  offered  no  resistance.  They  were  for 
bidden,  also,  to  encumber  themselves  with  booty,  or  even  with 

*iConde,  p.  1,  c.  10 


76  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

provisions ;  but  were  to  scour  the  country  with  all  speed,  and 
seize  upon  all  its  fortresses  and  strong-holds. 

He  then  divided  his  host  into  three  several  armies.  One  he 
placed  under  the  command  of  the  Greek  renegado,  Magued  el 
Rumi,  a  man  of  desperate  courage ;  and  sent  it  against  the  an 
cient  city  of  Cordova.  Another  was  sent  against  the  city  of 
Malaga,  and  was  led  by  Zayd  ben  Kesadi,  aided  by  the  Bishop 
Oppas.  The  third  was  led  by  Taric  himself,  and  with  this  he 
determined  to  make  a  wide  sweep  through  the  kingdom.* 


CHAPTER  II. 

CAPTURE    OF    GRANADA— SUBJUGATION    OF     THE    ALPUXARRA 
MOUNTAINS. 

THE  terror  of  the  arms  of  Taric  ben  Zeyad  went  before  him ; 
and,  at  the  same  time,  the  report  of  his  lenity  to  those  who 
submitted  without  resistance.  Wherever  he  appeared,  <fhe 
towns,  for  the  most  part,  sent  forth  some  of  their  principal 
inhabitants  to  proffer  a  surrender ;  for  they  were  destitute  of 
fortifications,  and  their  fighting  men  had  perished  in  battle. 
They  were  all  received  into  allegiance  to  the  caliph,  and  were 
protected  from  pillage  or  molestation. 

After  marching  some  distance  through  the  country,  he 
entered  one  day  a  vast  and  beautiful  plain,  interspersed  with 
villages,  adorned  with  groves  and  gardens,  watered  by  wind 
ing  rivers,  and  surrounded  by  lofty  mountains.  It  was  the 
famous  vega,  or  plain  of  Granada,  destined  to  be  for  ages  the 
favourite  abode  of  the  Moslems.  When  the  Arab  conquerors 
beheld  this  delicious  vega,  they  were  lost  in  admiration;  for  it 
seemed  as  if  the  Prophet  had  given  them  a  paradise  on  earth, 
as  a  reward  for  their  services  in  his  cause. 

Taric  approached  the  city  of  Granada,  which  had  a  formida 
ble  aspect,  seated  on  lofty  hills  and  fortified  with  Gothic  walls 
and  towers,  and  with  the  red  castle  or  citadel,  built  in  times  of 
old  by  the  Phoenicians  or  the  Romans.  As  the  Arab  chieftain 
eyed  the  place,  he  was  pleased  with  its  stern  warrior  look,  con 
trasting  with  the  smiling  beauty  of  its  vega,  and  the  freshness 
and  voluptuous  abundance  of  its  hills  and  valleys.  He  pitched 

*  Cronica  de  Espafia,  de  Alonzo  el  Sabio.    P.  3,  c.  1. 


LEGEND   OF  THE  SUBJUGATION  OF  SPAIN.         77 

his  tents  before  its  walls,  and  made  preparations  to  attack  it 
with  all  his  force. 

The  city,  however,  bore  but  the  semblance  of  power.  The 
flower  of  its  youth  had  perished  in  the  battle  of  the  Gaudalete ; 
many  of  the  principal  inhabitants  had  fled  to  the  mountains, 
and  few  remained  in  the  city  excepting  old  men,  women,  and 
children,  and  a  number  of  Jews,  which  last  were  well  disposed 
to  take  part  with  the  conquerors.  The  city,  therefore,  readily 
capitulated,  and  was  received  into  vassalage  on  favourable 
terms.  The  inhabitants  were  to  retain  their  property,  their 
laws,  and  their  religion ;  their  churches  and  priests  were  to  be 
respected;  and  no  other  tribute  was  required  of  them  than 
*uch  as  they  had  been  accustomed  to  pay  to  their  Gothic 
kings. 

On  taking  possession  of  Granada,  Taric  garrisoned  the  tow 
ers  and  castles,  and  left  as  alcayde  or  governor  a  chosen  war 
rior  named  Betiz  Aben  Habuz,  a  native  of  Arabia  Felix,  who 
had  distinguished  himself  by  his  valour  and  abilities.  This 
alcayde  subsequently  made  himself  king  of  Granada,  and  built 
a  palace  on  one  of  its  hills ;  the  remains  of  which  may  be  seen 
at  the  present  day.f 

Even  the  delights  of  Granada  had  no  power  to  detain  the 
active  and  ardent  Taric.  To  the  east  of  the  city  he  beheld  a 
lofty  chain  of  mountains,  towering  to  the  sky,  and  crowned 
with  shining  snow.  These  were  the  "  Mountains  of  the  Sun 
and  Air ;"  and  the  perpetual  snows  on  their  summits  gave  birth 
to  streams  that  fertilized  the  plains.  In  their  bosoms,  shut  up 
among  cliffs  and  precipices,  were  many  small  valleys  of  great 
beauty  and  abundance.  The  inhabitants  were  a  bold  and 
hardy  race,  who  looked  upon  their  mountains  as  everlasting 

tThe  house  shown  as  the  ancient  residence  of  Aben  Habuz  is  called  la  Casa  del 
Gallo,  or  the  house  of  the  weathercock;  so  named,  says  Pedraza,  in  his  history  of 
Granada,  from  a  bronze  figure  of  an  Arab  horseman,  armed  with  lance  and  buck 
ler,  which  once  surmounted  it,  and  which  varied  with  every  wind.  On  this  warlike 
•weathercock  was  inscribed,  in  Arabic  characters, 

Dice  el  sabio  Aben  Habuz 
Que  asi  se  defiende  el  Andaluz. 

(In  this  way,  says  Aben  Habuz  the  wise, 
The  Andalusian  his  foe  defies.) 

The  Casa  del  Gallo,  even  until  within  twenty  years,  possessed  two  great  halls 
beautifully  decorated  with  morisco  reliefs.  It  then  caught  fire  and  was  so  dam 
aged  as  to  require  to  be  nearly  rebuilt.  It  is  now  a  manufactory  of  coarse  canvas, 
and  has  nothing  of  the  Moorish  character  remaining.  It  commands  a  beautiful 
view  of  the  city  and  the  vega. 


78  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

fortresses  that  could  never  be  taken.  The  inhabitants  of  the 
surrounding  country  had  fled  to  these  natural  fastnesses  for 
refuge,  and  driven  thither  their  flocks  and  herds. 

Taric  felt  that  the  dominion  he  had  acquired  of  the  plains 
would  be  insecure  until  he  had  penetrated  and  subdued  these 
haughty  mountains.  Leaving  Aben  Habuz,  therefore,  in  com 
mand  of  Granada,  he  marched  with  his  army  across  the  vega, 
and  entered  the  folds  of  the  Sierra,  which  stretch  towards  the 
south.  The  inhabitants  fled  with  affright  on  hearing  the 
Moorish  trumpets,  or  beholding  the  approach  of  the  turbaned 
horsemen,  and  plunged  deeper  into  the  recesses  of  their  moun 
tains.  As  the  army  advanced,  the  roads  became  more  and  more 
rugged  and  difficult ;  sometimes  climbing  great  rocky  heights, 
and  at  other  times  descending  abruptly  into  deep  ravines, 
the  beds  of  winter  torrents.  The  mountains  were  strangely 
wild  and  sterile ;  broken  into  cliffs  and  precipices  of  variegated 
marble.  At  their  feet  were  little  valleys  enamelled  with 
groves  and  gardens,  interlaced  with  silver  streams,  and  stud 
ded  with  villages  and  hamlets ;  but  all  deserted  by  their  in 
habitants.  No  one  appeared  to  dispute  the  inroad  of  the 
Moslems,  who  continued  their  march  with  increasing  confi 
dence,  their  pennons  fluttering  from  rock  and  cliff,  and  the 
valleys  echoing  to  the  din  of  trumpet,  drum,  and  cymbal.  At 
length  they  came  to  a  defile  where  the  mountains  seemed  to 
have  been  rent  asunder  to  make  way  for  a  foaming  torrent. 
The  narrow  and  broken  road  wound  along  the  dizzy  edge  of 
precipices,  until  it  came  to  where  a  bridge  was  thrown  across 
the  chasm.  It  was  a  fearful  and  gloomy  pass;  great  beetling 
cliffs  overhung  the  road,  and  the  torrent  roared  below.  This 
awful  defile  has  ever  been  famous  in  the  warlike  history  of 
those  mountains,  by  the  name,  in  former  times,  of  the  Bar- 
ranco  de  Tocos,  and  at  present  of  the  bridge  of  Tablete.  The 
Saracen  army  entered  fearlessly  into  the  pass;  a  part  had 
already  crossed  the  bridge,  and  was  slowly  toiling  up  the  rug 
ged  road  on  the  opposite  side,  when  great  shouts  arose,  and 
every  cliff  appeared  suddenly  peopled  with  furious  foes.  In 
an  instant  a  deluge  of  missiles  of  every  sort  was  rained  upon 
the  astonished  Moslems.  Darts,  arrows,  javelins,  and  stones, 
came  whistling  down,  singling  out  the  most  conspicuous  cava 
liers  ;  and  at  times  great  masses  of  rock,  bounding  and  thun 
dering  along  the  mountain  side,  crushed  whole  ranks  at  once, 
or  hurled  horses  and  riders  over  the  edge  of  the  precipices. 

It  was  in  vain  to  attempt  to  brave  this  mountain  warfare. 


LEGEND   OF  THE  SUBJUGATION  OF  SPAIN.         79 

The  enemy  were  beyond  the  reach  of  missiles,  and  safe  from 
pursuit ;  and  the  horses  of  the  Arabs  were  here  an  incumbrance 
rather  than  an  aid.  The  trumpets  sounded  a  retreat,  and  the 
army  retired  in  tumult  and  confusion,  harassed  by  the  enemy 
until  extricated  from  the  defile.  Taric,  who  had  beheld  cities 
and  castles  surrendering  without  a  blow,  was  enraged  at  being 
braved  by  a  mere  horde  of  mountain  boors,  and  made  another 
attempt  to  penetrate  the  mountains,  but  was  again  waylaid 
and  opposed  with  horrible  slaughter. 

The  fiery  son  of  Ishmael  foamed  with  rage  at  being  thus 
checked  in  his  career  and  foiled  in  his  revenge.  He  was  on 
the  point  of  abandoning  the  attempt,  and  returning  to  the 
vega,  when  a  Christian  boor  sought  his  camp,  and  was  ad 
mitted  to  his  presence.  The  miserable  wretch  possessed  a 
cabin  and  a  little  patch  of  ground  among  the  mountains,  and 
offered,  if  these  should  be  protected  from  ravage,  to  inform  the 
Arab  commander  of  a  way  by  which  troops  of  horse  might 
oe  safely  introduced  into  the  bosom  of  the  sierra,  and  the 
whole  subdued.  The  name  of  this  caitiff  was  Fandino,  and  it 
deserves  to  be  perpetually  recorded  with  ignominy.  His  case 
is  an  instance  how  much  it  is  in  the  power,  at  times,  of  the 
most  insignificant  being  to  do  mischief,  and  how  all  the  valour 
of  the  magnanimous  and  the  brave  may  be  defeated  by  the 
treason  of  the  selfish  and  the  despicable. 

Instructed  by  this  traitor,  the  Arab  commander  caused  ten 
thousand  foot-soldiers  and  four  thousand  horsemen,  com 
manded  by  a  valiant  captain,  named  Ibrahim  Albuxarra,  to 
be  conveyed  by  sea  to  the  little  port  of  Adra,  at  the  Mediter 
ranean  foot  of  the  mountains.  Here  they  landed,  and,  guided 
by  the  traitor,  penetrated  to  the  heart  of  the  sierra,  laying 
every  thing  waste.  The  brave  mountaineers,  thus  hemmed  in 
between  two  armies,  destitute  of  fortresses  and  without  hope 
of  succour,  were  obliged  to  capitulate ;  but  their  valour  was  not 
without  avail,  for  never,  even  in  Spain,  did  vanquished  people 
surrender  on  prouder  or  more  honourable  terms.  We  have 
named  the  wretch  who  betrayed  his  native  mountains ;  let  us, 
equally,  record  the  name  of  him  whose  pious  patriotism  saved 
them  from  desolation.  It  was  the  reverend  Bishop  Centerio. 
While  the  warriors  rested  on  their  arms  in  grim  and  menacing 
tranquillity  among  the  cliffs,  this  venerable  prelate  descended 
to  the  Arab  tents  in  the  valley,  to  conduct  the  capitulation.  In 
stipulating  for  the  safety  of  his  people,  he  did  not  forget  that 
they  were  brave  men,  and  that  they  still  had  weapons  in  theip 


80  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

hands.  He  obtained  conditions  accordingly.  It  was  agreed 
that  they  should  be  permitted  to  retain  their  houses,  lands, 
and  personal  effects ;  that  they  should  be  unmolested  in  their 
religion,  and  their  temples  and  priests  respected;  and  that 
they  should  pay  no  other  tribute  than  such  as  they  had  been 
accustomed  to  render  to  their  kings.  Should  they  prefer  to 
leave  the  country  and  to  remove  to  any  part  of  Christendom, 
they  were  to  be  allowed  to  sell  their  possessions ;  and  to  take 
with  them- the  money,  and  all  their  other  effects.* 

Ibrahim  Albuxarra  remained  in  command  of  the  territory, 
and  the  whole  sierra,  or  chain  of  mountains,  took  his  name, 
which  has  since  been  slightly  corrupted  into  that  of  the 
Alpuxarras.  The  subjugation  of  this  rugged  region,  however, 
was  for  a  long  time  incomplete ;  many  of  the  Christians  main 
tained  a  wild  and  hostile  independence,  living  in  green  glens 
and  scanty  valleys  among  the  heights ;  and  the  sierra  of  the 
Alpuxarras  has,  in  all  ages,  been  one  of  the  most  difficult  parts 
of  Andalusia  to  be  subdued. 


CHAPTER  III. 

EXPEDITION    OF    MAGUED    AGAINST    CORDOVA — DEFENCE    OF    THE 
PATRIOT    PELISTES. 

WHILE  the  veteran  Taric  was  making  this  wide  circuit 
through  the  land,  the  expedition  under  Magued  the  renegado 
proceeded  against  the  city  of  Cordova.  The  inhabitants  of 
that  ancient  place  had  beheld  the  great  army  of  Don  Roderick 
spreading  like  an  inundation  over  the  plain  of  the  Guadal 
quivir,  and  had  felt  confident  that  it  must  sweep  the  infidel 
invaders  from  the  land.  What  then  was  their  dismay,  when 
scattered  fugitives,  wild  with  horror  and  affright,  brought 
them  tidings  of  the  entire  overthrow  of  that  mighty  host,  and 
the  disappearance  of  the  king !  In  the  midst  of  their  conster 
nation,  the  Gothic  noble,  Pelistes,  arrived  at  their  gates,  hag 
gard  with  fatigue  of  body  and  anguish  of  mind,  and  leading 
a  remnant  of  his  devoted  cavaliers,  who  had  survived  the 
dreadful  battle  of  the  Guadalete.  The  people  of  Cordova  knew 
the  valiant  and  steadfast  spirit  of  Pelistc .,,  and  rallied  round 

*  Pedraza,  Hist.  Granad.  p.  3,  c.  2.    Bleda,  Cronica,  L.  2,  c.  10. 


LEGEND   OF  THE  SUBJUGATION  OF  SPAIN.         81 

him  as  a  last  hope.  "Roderick  is  fallen,"  cried  they,  "and 
we  have  neither  king  nor  captain ;  be  unto  us  as  a  sovereign ; 
take  command  of  our  city,  and  protect  us  in  this  hour  of 
peril!" 

The  heart  of  Pelistes  was  free  from  ambition,  and  was  too 
much  broken  by  grief  to  be  nattered  by  the  offer  of  command ; 
but  he  felt  above  every  thing  for  the  woes  of  his  country,  and 
was  ready  to  assume  any  desperate  service  in  her  cause. 
"Your  city,"  said  he,  "  is  surrounded  by  walls  and  towers, 
and  may  yet  check  the  progress  of  the  foe.  Promise  to  stand 
by  me  till  the  last,  and  I  will  undertake  your  defence."  The 
inhabitants  all  promised  implicit  obedience  and  devoted  zeal ; 
for  what  will  not  the  inhabitants  of  a  wealthy  city  promise 
and  profess  in  a  moment  of  alarm.  The  instant,  however, 
that  they  heard  of  the  approach  of  the  Moslem  troops,  the 
wealthier  citizens  packed  up  their  effects  and  fled  to  the 
mountains,  or  to  the  distant  city  of  Toledo.  Even  the  monks 
collected  the  riches  of  their  convents  and  churches,  and  fled. 
Pelistes,  though  he  saw  himself  thus  deserted  by  those  who 
had  the  greatest  interest  in  the  safety  of  the  city,  yet  deter 
mined  not  to  abandon  its  defence.  He  had  still  his  faithful 
though  scanty  band  of  cavaliers,  and  a  number  of  fugitives  of 
the  army ;  in  all  amounting  to  about  four  hundred  men.  He 
stationed  guards,  therefore,  at  the  gates  and  in  the  towers, 
and  made  every  preparation  for  a  desperate  resistance. 

In  the  meantime,  the  army  of  Moslems  and  apostate  Chris 
tians  advanced,  under  the  command  of  the  Greek  renegado, 
Magued,  and  guided  by  the  traitor  Julian.     While  they  were  yet 
at  some  distance  from  the  city,  their  scouts  brought  to  them  a 
shepherd,  whom  they  had  surprised  on  the  banks  of  the  Gua- 
lalquivir.     The  trembling  hind  was  an  inhabitant  of  Cordova, 
nd  revealed  to  them  the  state  of  the  place,  and  the  weakness 
.1  its  garrison. 

"And  the  walls  and  gates,"  said  Magued,  "are  they  strong 
.nd  well  guarded?" 

"  The  walls  are  high,  and  of  wondrous  strength,"  replied  the 
shepherd,  "and  soldiers  hold  watch  at  the  gates  by  day  and 
night.  But  there  is  one  place  where  the  city  may  be  secretly 
entered.  In  a  part  of  the  wall,  not  far  from  the  bridge,  the 
battlements  are  broken,  and  there  is  a  breach  at  some  height 
from  the  ground.  Hard  by  stands  a  fig-tree,  by  the  aid  of 
which  the  wall  may  easily  be  scaled." 
Having  received  this  information,  Magued  halted  with  his 


82  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

army,  and  sent  forward  several  renegade  Christians,  partisans 
of  Count  Julian,  who  entered  Cordova  as  if  flying  before  the 
enemy.  On  a  dark  and  tempestuous  night,  the  Moslems  ap 
proached  to  the  end  of  the  bridge  which ,  crosses  the  Guadal 
quivir,  and  remained  in  ambush.  Magued  took  a  small  party 
of  chosen  men,  and,  guided  by  the  shepherd,  forded  the  stream 
and  groped  silently  along  the  wall  to  the  place  where  stood  the 
fig-tree.  The  traitors,  who  had  fraudulently  entered  the  city, 
were  ready  on  the  wall  to  render  assistance.  Magued  ordered 
his  followers  to  make  use  of  the  long  folds  of  their  turbans 
instead  of  cords,  and  succeeded  without  difficulty  in  clamber 
ing  into  the  breach. 

Drawing  their  scimitars,  they  now  hastened  to  the  gate 
which  opened  towards  the  bridge;  the  guards,  suspecting  no 
assault  from  within,  were  taken  by  surprise,  and  easily  over 
powered  ;  the  gate  was  thrown  open,  and  the  army  that  had 
remained  in  ambush,  rushed  over  the  bridge,  and  entered  with 
out  opposition. 

The  alarm  had  by  this  time  spread  throughout  the  city ;  but 
already  a  torrent  of  armed  men  was  pouring  through  the 
streets.  Pelistes  sallied  forth  with  his  cavaliers  and  such  of 
the  soldiery  as  he  could  collect,  and  endeavoured  to  repel  the 
foe ;  but  every  effort  was  in  vain.  The  Christians  were  slowly 
driven  from  street  to  street,  and  square  to  square,  disputing 
every  inch  of  ground ;  until,  finding  another  body  of  the  enemy 
approaching  to  attack  them  in  rear,  they  took  refuge  in  a 
convent,  and  succeeded  in  throwing  to  and  barring  the  pon 
derous  doors.  The  Moors  attempted  to  force  the  gates,  but 
were  assailed  with  such  showers  of  missiles  from  the  windows 
and  battlements  that  they  were  obliged  to  retire.  Pelistes 
examined  the  convent,  and  found  it  admirably  calculated  for 
defence.  It  was  of  great  extent,  with  spacious  courts  and 
cloisters.  The  gates  were  massive,  and  secured  with  bolts 
and  bars;  the  walls  were  of  great  thickness;  the  windows 
high  and  grated ;  there  was  a  great  tank  or  cistern  of  water, 
and  the  friars,  who  had  fled  from  the  city,  had  left  behind  a 
good  supply  of  provisions.  Here,  then,  Pelistes  proposed  to 
make  a  stand,  and  to  endeavour  to  hold  out  until  succour  should 
arrive  from  some  other  city.  His  proposition  was  received 
with  shouts  by  his  loyal  cavaliers ;  not  one  of  whom  but  was 
ready  to  lay  down  his  life  in  the  service  of  his  commander. 


LEGEND   OF  THE  SUBJUGATION  OF  SPAIN.         83 
CHAPTER  IV. 

DEFENCE  OF  THE  CONVENT  OF  ST.  GEORGE  BY  PELISTES. 

FOR  three  long  and  anxious  months  did  the  good  knight 
Pelistes  and  his  cavaliers  defend  their  sacred  asylum  against 
the  repeated  assaults  of  the  infidels.  The  standard  of  the  true 
faith  was  constantly  displayed  from  the  loftiest  tower,  and  a 
fire  blazed  there  throughout  the  night,  as  signals  of  distress  to 
the  surrounding  country.  The  watchman  from  his  turret  kept 
a  wary  lookout  over  the  land,  hoping  in  every  cloud  of  dust 
to  descry  the  glittering  helms  of  Christian  warriors.  The 
country,  however,  was  forlorn  and  abandoned,  or  if  per 
chance  a  human  being  was  perceived,  it  was  some  Arab  horse 
man,  careering  the  plain  of  the  Guadalquivir  as  fearlessly  as 
if  it  were  his  native  desert. 

By  degrees  the  provisions  of  the  convent  were  consumed, 
and  the  cavaliers  had  to  slay  their  horses,  one  by  one,  for  food. 
They  suffered  the  wasting  miseries  of  famine  without  a  mur 
mur,  and  always  met  their  commander  with  a  smile.  Pelistes, 
however,  read  their  sufferings  in  their  wan  and  emaciated 
countenances,  and  felt  more  for  them  than  for  himself.  He 
was  grieved  at  heart  that  such  loyalty  and  valour  should  only 
lead  to  slavery  or  death,  and  resolved  to  make  one  desperate 
attempt  for  their  deliverance.  Assembling  them  one  day  in 
the  court  of  the  convent,  he  disclosed  to  them  his  purpose. 

"  Comrades  and  brothers  in  arms,"  said  he,  "  it  is  needless  to 
conceal  danger  from  brave  men.  Our  case  is  desperate ;  our 
countrymen  either  know  not  or  heed  not  our  situation,  or 
have  not  the  means  to  help  us.  There  is  but  one  chance  of 
escape;  it  is  full  of  peril,  and,  as  your  leader,  I  claim  the  right 
to  brave  it.  To-morrow  at  break  of  day  I  will  sally  forth 
and  make  for  the  city  gates  at  the  moment  of  their  being 
opened;  no  one  will  suspect  a  solitary  horseman;  I  shall  be 
taken  for  one  of  those  recreant  Christians  who  have  basely 
mingled  with  the  enemy.  If  I  succeed  in  getting  out  of  the 
city  I  will  hasten  to  Toledo  for  assistance.  In  all  events  I  shall 
be  back  in  less  than  twenty  days.  Keep  a  vigilant  lookout 
toward  the  nearest  mountain.  If  you  behold  five  lights  blaz 
ing  upon  its  summit,  be  assured  I  am  at  hand  with  succour, 
and  prepare  yourselves  to  sally  forth  upon  the  city  as  I  attack 


84  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

the  gates.  Should  I  fail  in  obtaining  aid,  I  will  return  to  die 
with  you. " 

When  he  had  finished,  his  warriors  would  fain  have  severally 
undertaken  the  enterprise,  and  they  remonstrated  against  his 
exposing  himself  to  such  peril ;  but  he  was  not  to  be  shaken 
from  his  purpose.  On  the  following  morning,  ere  the  break 
of  day,  his  horse  was  led  forth,  caparisoned,  into  the  court  of 
the  convent,  and  Pelistes  appeared  in  complete  armour.  As 
sembling  his  cavaliers  in  the  chapel,  he  prayed  with  them  for 
some  time  before  the  altar  of  the  holy  Virgin.  Then  rising 
and  standing  in  the  midst  of  them,  "God  knows,  my  com 
panions,  "  said  he,  ' '  whether  we  have  any  longer  a  country ;  if 
not,  better  were  we  in  our  graves.  Loyal  and  true  have  ye  been 
to  me,  and  loyal  have  ye  been  to  my  son,  even  to  the  hour  of 
his  death ;  and  grieved  am  I  that  I  have  no  other  means  of 
proving  my  love  for  you,  than  by  adventuring  my  worthless 
life  for  your  deliverance.  All  I  ask  of  you  before  I  go,  is  a 
solemn  promise  to  defend  yourselves  to  the  last  like  brave  men 
and  Christian  cavaliers,  and  never  to  renounce  your  faith,  or 
throw  yourselves  on  the  mercy  of  the  renegado  Magued,  or  the 
traitor  Julian."  They  aU  pledged  their  words,  and  took  a 
solemn  oath  to  the  same  effect  before  the  altar. 

Pelistes  then  embraced  them  one  by  one,  and  gave  them  his 
benediction,  and  as  he  did  so  his  heart  yearned  over  them,  for 
he  felt  towards  them,  not  merely  as  a  companion  in  arms  and  as 
a  commander,  but  as  a  father;  and  he  took  lea\e  of  them  as  if 
he  had  been  going  to  his  death.  The  warriors,  on  their  part, 
crowded  round  him  in  silence,  kissing  his  hands  and  the  hem 
of  his  surcoat,  and  many  of  the  sternest  shed  tears. 

The  gray  of  the  dawning  had  just  streaked  the  east,  when 
Pelistes  took  lance  in  hand,  hung  his  shield  about  his  neck, 
and  mounting  his  steed,  issued  quietly  forth  from  a  postern  of 
the  convent.  He  paced  slowly  through  the  vacant  streets,  and 
the  tramp  of  his  steed  echoed  afar  in  that  silent  hour ;  but  no 
one  suspected  a  warrior,  moving  thus  singly  and  tranquilly  in 
an  armed  city,  to  be  an  enemy.  He  arrived  at  the  gate  just  at 
the  hour  of  opening ;  a  foraging  party  was  entering  with  cattle 
and  with  beasts  of  burden,  and  he  passed  unheeded  through 
the  throng.  As  soon  as  he  was  out  of  sight  of  the  soldiers  who 
guarded  the  gate,  he  quickened  his  pace,  and  at  length,  gallop 
ing  at  full  speed,  succeeded  in  gaining  the  mountains.  Here 
he  paused,  and  alighted  at  a  solitary  farm-house  to  breathe  his 
panting  steed;  but  had  scarce  put  foot  to  ground  when  he 


5  '.'BJCGATIOy  OF  SPAiy.         S5 

I  the  distant  sound  of  pursuit,  and  beheld  a  horseman 
purring  up  the  mountain. 

Throwing  himself  again  upon  his  steed,  he  abandoned  the 
xid  and  galloped  across  the  rugged  heights.     The  deep  dry 
:el  of  a  torrent  checked  his  career,  and  his  horse  stum- 
g  upon  the  margin,  rolled  with  his  rider  to  the  bottom. 
:es  was  sorely  bruised  by  the  fall,  and  his  whole  visage 
athed  in  blood.     His  horse,  too.  was  maimed  and  unable 
-    nd.  so  that  there  was  no  hope  of  escape.    The  enemy  drew 
near,  and  proved  to  be  no  other  than  Magued.  the  renegado 
general,  who  had  perceived  him  as  he  issued  forth  from  the 
city,  and  had  followed  singly  in  pursuit.     '  •  Well  met,  s 
alcayde!"  exclaimed  he.  "and  overtaken  in  good  time.     Sur 
render  yourself  my  prisoner. " 

Pelistes  made  no  other  reply  than  by  drawing  his  sword, 
bracing  his  shield,  and  preparing  for  defence.  Magued.  though 
an  apostate,  and  a  fierce  warrior,  possessed  some  sparks  ^>f 
knightly  magnanimity.  Seeing  his  adversary  dismounted,  he 
disdained  to  take  him  at  a  disadvantage,  but,  alighting,  tied 
his  horse  to  a  tree. 

The  conflict  that  ensued  was  desperate  and  doubtful,   for 
:n  had  two  warriors  met  so  well  matched  or  of  equal 
-ss.     Their  shields  were  hacked  to  pieces,  the  ground  was 
strewed  with  fragments  of  their  armour,   and  stained  with 
their  blood.    They  paused  repeatedly  to  take  breath :  regard- 
ich  other  with  wonder  and  admiration.     Pelistes,  how 
ever,  had  been  previously  injured  by  his  fall,  and  fought  to 
disadvantage.   The  renegado  perceived  it,  and  sought  not 
y  him,  but  to  take  him  alive.     Shifting  his  ground  con- 
-ly.  he  wearied  his  antagonist,  who  was  growing  weaker 
-eaker  from  the  loss  of  blood.     At  length  Pelistes  seemed 
-iimon  up  all  his  remaining  strength  to  make  a  signal 
blow .  it  was  skilfully  parried,  and  he  f ell  prostrate  upon  the 
ground.     The  renegado  ran  up.  and  putting  his  foot  upon  his 
1.  and  the  point  of  his  scimitar  to  his  throat,  called  upon 
liim  to  ask  his  life :  but  Pelistes  lay  without  sense,  and  as  one 
dead.     Magued   then  unlaced  the"  helmet   of  his  vanquished 
enemy,  and  seated  himself  on  a  rock  beside  him    to  recover 
breath.      In  this  situation  the  warriors  were  found  by  cer 
tain  Moorish  cavaliers,  who  marvelled  much  at  the  traces  of 
that  stern  and  bloody  combat. 

Finding  there  was  yet  life  in  the  Christian  knight,  they  laid 
him  upon  one  of  their  horses,  and  aiding  Magued  to  remount 


86  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

his  steed,  proceeded  slowly  to  the  city.  As  the  convoy  passed 
by  the  convent,  the  cavaliers  looked  forth  and  beheld  their 
commander  borne  along  bleeding  and  a  captive.  Furious  at 
the  sight,  they  sallied  forth  to  the  rescue,  but  were  repulsed  by 
a  superior  force  and  driven  back  to  the  great  portal  of  the 
church.  The  enemy  entered  pell-mell  with  them,  fighting 
from  aisle  to  aisle,  from  altar  to  altar,  and  in  the  courts  and 
cloisters  of  the  convent.  The  greater  part  of  the  cavaliers 
died  bravely,  sword  in  hand;  the  rest  were  disabled  with 
wounds  and  made  prisoners.  The  convent,  which  was  lately 
their  castle,  was  now  made  their  prison,  and  in  after-times,  in 
commemoration  of  this  event,  was  consecrated  by  the  name  of 
St.  George  of  the  Captives. 


CHAPTER  V. 

MEETING    BETWEEN    THE    PATRIOT     PELISTES    AND    THE    TRAITOR 

JULIAN. 

THE  loyalty  and  prowess  of  the  good  knight  Pelistes  had 
gained  him  the  reverence  even  of  his  enemies.  He  was  for  a 
long  time  disabled  by  his  wounds,  during  which  he  was  kindly 
treated  by  the  Arab  chieftains,  who  strove  by  every  courteous 
means  to  cheer  his  sadness  and  make  him  forget  that  he  was 
a  captive.  When  he  was  recovered  from  his  wounds  they 
gave  him  a  magnificent  banquet,  to  testify  their  admiration  of 
his  virtues. 

Pelistes  appeared  at  the  banquet  clad  in  sable  armour,  and 
with  a  countenance  pale  and  dejected,  for  the  ills  of  his 
country  evermore  preyed  upon  his  heart.  Among  the  assem 
bled  guests  was  Count  Julian,  who  held  a  high  command  in 
the  Moslem  army,  and  was  arrayed  in  garments  of  mingled 
Christian  and  morisco  fashion.  Pelistes  had  been  a  close 
and  bosom  friend  of  Julian  in  former  times,  and  had  served 
with  him  in  the  wars  in  Africa,  but  when  the  count  advanced 
to  accost  him  with  his  wonted  amity,  he  turned  away  in 
silence  and  deigned  not  to  notice  him;  neither,  during  the 
whole  of  the  repast,  did  he  address  to  him  ever  a  word,  but 
created  him  as  one  unknown. 

When  the  banquet  was  nearly  at  a  close,  the  discourse 
turned  upon  the  events  of  the  war,  and  the  Moslem  chieftains, 


LEGEND   OF  THE  SUBJUGATION  OF  SPAIN.         87 

in  great  courtesy,  dwelt  upon  the  merits  of  many  of  the  Chris 
tian  cavaliers  who  had  fallen  in  battle,  and  all  extolled  the 
valour  of  those  who  had  recently  perished  in  the  defence  of  the 
convent.  Pelistes  remained  silent  for  a  time,  and  checked  the 
grief  which  swelled  within  his  bosom  as  he  thought  of  his  de 
voted  cavaliers.  At  length,  lifting  up  his  voice,  ' '  Happy  are 
the  dead,"  said  he,  "for  they  rest  in  peace,  and  are  gone  to 
receive  the  reward  of  their  piety  and  valour !  I  could  mourn 
over  the  loss  of  my  companions  in  arms,  but  they  have  fallen 
with  honour,  and  are  spared  the  wretchedness  I  feel  in 
witnessing  the  thraldom  of  my  country.  I  have  seen  my  only 
son,  the  pride  and  hope  of  my  age,  cut  down  at  my  side;  \. 
have  beheld  kindred,  friends,  and  followers  falling  one  by  one 
around  me,  and  have  become  so  seasoned  to  those  losses  that  I 
have  ceased  to  weep.  Yet  there  is  one  man  over  whose  loss  I 
will  never  cease  to  grieve.  He  was  the  loved  companion  of 
my  youth,  and  the  steadfast  associate  of  my  graver  years.  He 
was  one  of  the  most  loyal  of  Christian  knights.  As  a  friend 
he  was  loving  and  sincere ;  as  a  warrior  his  achievements  were 
above  all  praise.  What  has  become  of  him,  alas !  I  know  not. 
If  fallen  in  battle,  and  I  knew  where  his  bones  were  laid, 
whether  bleaching  on  the  plains  of  Xeres,  or  buried  in  the 
waters  of  the  Guadalete,  I  would  seek  them  out  and  enshrine 
them  as  the  relics  of  a  sainted  patriot.  Or  if,  like  many  of  his 
companions  in  arms,  he  should  be  driven  to  wander  in  foreign 
lands,  I  would  join  him  in  his  hapless  exile,  and  we  would 
mourn  together  over  the  desolation  of  our  country. " 

Even  the  hearts  of  the  Arab  warriors  were  touched  by  the 
lament  of  the  good  Pelistes,  and  they  said — "Who  was  this 
peerless  friend  in  whose  praise  thou  art  so  fervent?" 

"  His  name,"  replied  Pelistes.  "  was  Count  Julian." 

The  Moslem  warriors  stared  with  surprise.  "Noble  cava 
lier,"  exclaimed  they,  "has  grief  disordered  thy  senses?  Be 
hold  thy  friend  living  and  standing  before  thee,  and  yet  thou 
dost  not  know  him !  This,  this  is  Count  Julian !" 

Upon  this,  Pelistes  turned  his  eyes  upon  the  count,  and 
regarded  him  for  a  time  with  a  lofty  and  stern  demeanour ; 
and  the  countenance  of  Julian  darkened,  and  was  troubled, 
and  his  eye  sank  beneath  the  regard  of  that  loyal  and  honour 
able  cavalier.  And  Pelistes  said,  ' '  In  the  name  of  God,  I 
charge  thee,  man  unknown!  to  answer.  Dost  thou  presume 
to  call  thyself  Count  Julian?" 

The  count  reddened  with  anger  at  these  words.     "  Pelistes," 


88  LEGENDS  OF,  THE  CONQ  UEST  OF  SPAIN. 

said  he,  "what  means  this  mockery?  thou  knowest  me  well; 
thou  knowest  me  for  Count  Julian. " 

' '  I  know  thee  for  a  base  impostor !"  cried  Pelistes.  ' '  Count 
Julian  was  a  noble  Gothic  knight ;  but  thou  appearest  in  mon 
grel  Moorish  garb.  Count  Julian  was  a  Christian,  faithful  and 
devout ;  but  I  behold  in  thee  a  renegado  and  an  infidel.  Count 
Julian  was  ever  loyal  to  his  king,  and  foremost  in  his  coun 
try's  cause;  were  he  living  he  would  be  the  first  to  put  shield 
on  neck  and  lance  in  rest,  to  clear  the  land  of  her  invaders ; 
but  thou  art  a  hoary  traitor !  thy  hands  are  stained  with  the 
royal  blood  of  the  Goths,  and  thou  hast  betrayed  thy  country 
and  thy  God!  Therefore,  I  again  repeat,  man  unknown!  if 
thou  sayest  thou  art  Count  Julian,  thou  liest!  My  friend, 
alas!  is  dead;  and  thou  art  some  fiend  from  hell,  which  hast 
taken  possession  of  his  body  to  dishonour  his  memory  and 
render  him  an  abhorrence  among  men!"  So  saying,  Pelistes 
turned  his  back  upon  the  traitor,  and  went  forth  from  the 
banquet;  leaving  Count  Julian  overwhelmed  with  confusion, 
and  an  object  of  scorn  to  all  the  Moslem  cavaliers. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

HOW  TARIC  EL  TUERTO  CAPTURED  THE  CITY  OF  TOLEDO  THROUGH 
THE  AID  OF  THE  JEWS,  AND  HOW  HE  FOUND  THE  FAMOUS 
TALISMANIC  TABLE  OF  SOLOMON. 

WHILE  these  events  were  passing  in  Cordova,  the  one-eyed 
Arab  general,  Taric  el  Tuerto,  having  subdued  the  city  and 
vega  of  Granada,  and  the  Mountains  of  the  Sun  and  Air, 
directed  his  march  into  the  interior  of  the  kingdom,  to  attack 
the  ancient  city  of  Toledo,  the  capital  of  the  Gothic  kings.  So 
great  was  the  terror  caused  by  the  rapid  conquests  of  the 
invaders,  that  at  the  very  rumour  of  their  approach,  many 
of  the  inhabitants,  though  thus  in  the  very  citadel  of  the 
kingdom,  abandoned  it  and  fled  to  the  mountains  with  their 
families.  Enough  remained,  however,  to  have  made  a  formi 
dable  defence ;  and.  as  the  city  was  seated  on  a  lofty  rock, 
surrounded  by  massive  walls  and  towers,  and  almost  girdled 
by  the  Tagus,  it  threatened  a  long  resistance.  The  Arab 
warriors  pitched  their  tents  in  the  vega,  on  the  borders  of 
the  river,  and  prepared  for  a  tedious  siege. 


LEGEND   OF  THE  SUBJUGATION  OF  SPAIN.         89 

One  evening,  as  Taric  was  seated  in  his  tent  meditating  on 
the  mode  in  which  he  should  assail  this  rock-built  city,  certain 
of  the  patrols  of  the  camp  brought  a  stranger  before  him. 
''As  Ave  were  going  our  rounds,"  said  they,  "we  beheld  this 
man  lowered  down  with  cords  from  a  tower,  and  he  delivered 
himself  into  our  hands,  praying  to  be  conducted  to  thy 
presence,  that  he  might  reveal  to  thee  certain  things  im 
portant  for  thee  to  know. " 

Taric  fixed  his  eyes  upon  the  stranger:  he  was  a  Jewish 
rabbi,  with  a  long  beard  which  spread  upon  his  gabardine,  and 
descended  even  to  his  girdle.  "What  hast  thou  to  reveal?" 
said  he  to  the  Israelite.  "What  I  have  to  reveal,"  replied  the 
other,  "is  for  thee  alone  to  hear;  command  then,  I  entreat 
thee,  that  these  men  withdraw."  When  they  were  alone  he 
addressed  Taric  in  Arabic:  "Know,  O  leader  of  the  host  of 
Islam,"  said  he,  "that  I  am  sent  to  thee  on  the  part  of  the 
children  of  Israel  resident  in  Toledo.  We  have  been  oppressed 
and  insulted  by  the  Christians  in  the  time  of  their  prosperity, 
and  now  that  they  are  threatened  with  siege,  they  have  taken 
from  us  all  our  provisions  and  our  money;  they  have  com 
pelled  us  to  work  like  slaves,  repairing  their  walls ;  and  they 
oblige  us  to  bear  arms  and  guard  a  part  of  the  towers.  We 
abhor  their  yoke,  and  are  ready,  if  thou  wilt  receive  us  as 
subjects  and  permit  us  the  free  enjoyment  of  our  religion  and 
our  property,  to  deliver  the  towers  we  guard  into  thy  hands, 
and  to  give  thee  safe  entrance  into  the  city." 

The  Arab  chief  was  overjoyed  at  this  proposition,  and  he 
rendered  much  honour  to  the  rabbi,  and  gave  orders  to  clothe 
him  in  a  costly  robe,  and  to  perfume  his  beard  with  essences 
of  a  pleasant  odour,  so  that  he  was  the  most  sweet  smelling  of 
his  tribe ;  and  he  said,  ' '  Make  thy  words  good,  and  put  me  in 
possession  of  the  city,  and  I  will  do  all  and  more  than  thou 
hast  required,  and  will  bestow  countless  wealth  upon  thee  and 
thy  brethren." 

Then  a  plan  was  devised  between  them  by  which  the  city 
was  to  be  betrayed  and  given  up.  "But  how  shall  I  be 
secured,"  said  he,  "that  all  thy  tribe  will  fulfil  what  thou 
hast  engaged,  and  that  this  is  not  a  stratagem  to  get  me 
and  my  people  into  your  power  ?" 

"This  shall  be  thy  assurance,"  replied  the  rabbi:  "Ten  of 
the  principal  Israelites  will  come  to  this  tent  and  remain 
as  hostages." 

"It  is  enough,"  said  Taric;  and  he  made  oath  to  accomplish 


90  LEGENDS   OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

all  that  he  had  promised ;  and  the  Jewish  hostages  came  and 
delivered  themselves  into  his  hands. 

On  a  dark  night,  a  chosen  band  of  Moslem  warriors  ap 
proached  the  part  of  the  walls  guarded  by  the  Jews,  and  were 
secretly  admitted  into  a  postern  gate  and  concealed  within  a 
tower.  Three  thousand  Arabs  were  at  the  same  time  placed 
in  ambush  among  rocks  and  thickets,  in  a  place  on  the  op 
posite  side  of  the  river,  commanding  a  view  of  the  city.  On 
the  following  morning  Taric  ravaged  the  gardens  of  the  valley, 
and  set  fire  to  the  farm-houses,  and  then  breaking  up  his  camp 
marched  off  as  if  abandoning  the  siege. 

The  people  of  Toledo  gazed  with  astonishment  from  their 
walls  at  the  retiring  squadrons  of  the  enemy,  and  scarcely 
could  credit  their  unexpected  deliverance;  before  night  there 
was  not  a  turban  nor  a  hostile  lance  to  be  seen  in  the  vega. 
They  attributed  it  all  to  the  special  intervention  of  their 
patron  saint,  Leocadia;  and  the  following  day  being  palm 
Sunday,  they  sallied  forth  in  procession,  man,  woman,  and 
child,  to  the  church  of  that  blessed  saint,  which  is  situated 
without  the  walls,  that  they  might  return  thanks  for  her 
marvellous  protection. 

When  all  Toledo  had  thus  poured  itself  forth,  and  was 
marching  with  cross  and  relic  and  solemn  chaunt  towards 
the  chapel,  the  Arabs,  who  had  been  concealed  in  the  tower, 
rushed  forth  and  barred  the  gates  of  the  city.  Yfhile  some 
guarded  the  gates,  others  dispersed  themselves  about  the 
streets,  slaying  all  who  made  resistance;  and  others  kindled 
a  fire  and  made  a  column  of  smoke  on  the  top  of  the  citadel. 
At  sight  of  this  signal,  the  Arabs,  in  ambush,  beyond  the 
river,  rose  with  a  great  shout,  and  attacked  the  multitude 
who  were  thronging  to  the  church  of  St.  Leocadia.  There 
was  a  great  massacre,  although  the  people  were  without 
arms,  and  made  no  resistance;  and  it  is  said,  in  ancient 
chronicles,  that  it  wras  the  apostate  Bishop  Oppas  who  guided 
the  Moslems  to  their  prey,  and  incited  them  to  this  slaughter. 
The  pious  reader,  says  Fray  Antonio  Agapida,  will  be  slow  to 
believe  such  turpitude;  but  there  is  nothing  more  venomous 
than  the  rancour  of  an  apostate  priest;  for  the  best  things 
in  this  world,  when  corrupted,  become  the  worst  and  most 
baneful. 

Many  of  the  Christians  had  taken  refuge  within  the  church, 
and  had  barred  the  doors,  but  Oppas  commanded  that  fire 
should  be  set  to  the  portals,  threatening  to  put  every  one 


LEGEND   OF  THE  SUBJUGATION   OF  SPAIN.         91 

within  to  the  sword.  Happily  the  veteran  Taric  arrived 
just  in  time  to  stay  the  fury  of  this  reverend  renegado.  He 
ordered  the  trumpets  to  call  off  the  troops  from  the  carnage, 
and  extended  grace  to  all  the  surviving  inhabitants.  They 
were  permitted  to  remain  in  quiet  possession  of  their  homes 
and  effects,  paying  only  a  moderate  tribute ;  and  they  were 
allowed  to  exercise  the  rites  of  their  religion  in  the  existing 
churches,  to  the  number  of  seven,  but  were  prohibited  from 
erecting  any  others.  Those  who  preferred  to  leave  the  city, 
were  suffered  to  depart  in  safety,  but  not  to  take  with  them 
any  of  their  wealth. 

Immense  spoil  was  found  by  Taric  in  the  alcazar,  or  royal 
castle,  situated  on  a  rocky  eminence,  in  the  highest  part  of  the 
city.  Among  the  regalia  treasured  up  in  a  secret  chamber, 
were  twenty-five  regal  crowns  of  fine  gold,  garnished  with 
jacynths,  amethysts,  diamonds,  and  other  precious  stones. 
These  were  the  crowns  of  the  different  Gothic  kings  who  had 
reigned  in  Spain ;  it  having  been  the  usage,  on  the  death  of 
each  king,  to  deposit  his  crown  in  this  treasury,  inscribing  on 
it  his  name  and  age.  * 

When  Taric  was  thus  in  possession  of  the  city,  the  Jews 
came  to  him  in  procession,  with  songs  and  dances  and  the 
sound  of  timbrel  and  psaltery,  hailing  him  as  their  lord,  and 
reminding  him  of  his  promises. 

The  son  of  Ishmael  kept  his  word  with  the  children  of  Israel ; 
they  were  protected  in  the  possession  of  all  their  wealth  and 
the  exercise  of  their  religion,  and  were,  moreover,  rewarded 
with  jewels  of  gold  and  jewels  of  silver,  and  much  moneys,  t 

A  subsequent  expedition  was  led  by  Taric  against  Guadalax. 
ara,  which  surrendered  without  resistance ;  he  moreover  cap  • 
tured  the  city  of  Medina  Celi,  where  he  found  an  inestimable 
table  which  had  formed  a  part  of  the  spoil  taken  at  Rome  by 
Alaric,  at  the  time  that  the  sacred  city  was  conquered  by  the 
Goths.  It  was  composed  of  one  single  and  entire  emerald,  and 
possessed  talismanic  powers ;  for  traditions  affirm  that  it  was 
the  work  of  genii,  and  had  been  wrought  by  them  for  King 
Solomon  the  wise,  the  son  of  David.  This  marvellous  relic 
was  carefully  preserved  by  Taric,  as  the  most  precious  of  all 
his  spoils,  being  intended  by  him  as  a  present  to  the  caliph ; 


*Conde,  Hist,  de  las  Arahes  en  Espana,  c.  12. 

t  The  stratagem  of  the  Jews  of  Toledo  is  recorded  briefly  by  Bishop  Lucas  de 
Tuy,  in  his  chronicle,  but  is  related  at  large  in  the  chronicle  of  the  Moor  Rasis. 


92  LEGENDS  OP  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

and  in  commemoration  of  it  the  city  was  called  by  the  Arabs, 
Medina  Almeyda;  that  is  to  say,  "The  City  of  the  Table."* 

Having  made  these  and  other  conquests  of  less  importance, 
and  having  collected  great  quantities  of  gold  and  silver,  and 
rich  stuffs  and  precious  stones,  Taric  returned  with  his  booty 
to  the  royal  city  of  Toledo. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

MUZ  A.  BEN  NOSIER;  HIS  ENTRANCE  INTO  SPAIN,   AND  CAPTURE 

CARMONA. 

LET  us  leave  for  a  season  the  bold  Taric  in  his  triumphant 
progress  from  city  to  city,  while  we  turn  our  eyes  to  Muza  ben 
Nosier,  the  renowned  Emir  of  Almagreb,  and  the  commander- 
in-chief  of  the  Moslem  forces  of  the  west.  When  that  jealous 
chieftain  had  despatched  his  letter  commanding  Taric  to  pause 
and  await  his  coming,  he  immediately  made  every  preparation 
to  enter  Spain  with  a  powerful  reinforcement,  and  to  take 
command  of  the  conquering  army.  He  left  his  eldest  son, 
Abdalasis,  in  Caervan,  with  authority  over  Almagreb,  or 
Western  Africa.  This  Abdalasis  was  in  the  flower  of  his 
youth,  and  beloved  by  the  soldiery  for  the  magnanimity  and 
the  engaging  affability  w^hich  graced  his  courage. 

Muza  ben  Nosier  crossed  the  strait  of  Hercules  with  a  chosen 
force  of  ten  thousand  horse  and  eight  thousand  foot,  Arabs 
and  Africans.  He  was  accompanied  by  his  two  sons,  Meruan 
and  Abdelola,  and  by  numerous  illustrious  Arabian  cavaliers 
of  the  tribe  of  the  Koreish.  He  landed  his  shining  legions  on 
the  coast  of  Andalusia,  and  pitched  his  tents  near  to  the  Gua- 
diana.  There  first  he  received  intelligence  of  the  disobedience 
of  Taric  to  his  orders,  and  that,  without  waiting  his  arrival, 
the  impetuous  chieftain  had  continued  his  career,  and  with  his 
light  Arab  squadrons  had  overrun  and  subdued  the  noblest 
provinces  and  cities  of  the  kingdom. 

*  According  to  Arabian  legends,  this  table  was  a  mirror  revealing  all  great  events; 
insomuch  that  by  looking  on  it  the  possessor  might  behold  battles  and  sieges  and 
feats  of  chivalry,  and  all  actions  worthy  of  renown;  and  might  thus  ascertain  the 
truth  of  all  historic  transactions.  It  was  a  mirror  of  history,  therefore :  and  had 
very  probably  aided  King  Solomon  in  acquiring  that  prodigious  knowledge  and 
wisdom  for  which  he  was  renowned. 


LEGEND   OF  THE  SUBJUGATION  OF  SPAIN.         1KJ 

The  jealous  spirit  of  Muza  was  still  more  exasperated  by 
these  tidings ;  he  looked  upon  Taric  no  longer  as  a  friend  and 
coadjutor,  but  as  an  invidious  rival,  the  decided  enemy  of  his 
glory ;  and  he  determined  on  his  ruin.  His  first  consideration, 
however,  was  to  secure  to  himself  a  share  in  the  actual  con 
quest  of  the  land  before  it  should  be  entirely  subjugated. 

Taking  guides,  therefore,  from  among  his  Christian  captives, 
he  set  out  to  subdue  such  parts  of  the  country  as  had  not  been 
visited  by  Taric.  The  first  place  which  he  assailed  was  the 
ancient  city  of  Carmona ;  it  was  not  of  great  magnitude,  but 
was  fortified  with  high  walls  and  massive  towers,  and  many  of 
the  fugitives  of  the  late  army  had  thrown  themselves  into  it. 

The  Goths  had  by  this  time  recovered  from  their  first  panic ; 
they  had  become  accustomed  to  the  sight  of  Moslem  troops, 
and  their  native  courage  had  been  roused  by  danger.  Short 
ly  after  the  Arabs  had  encamped  before  their  walls,  a  band 
of  cavaliers  made  a  sudden  sally  one  morning  before  the 
break  of  day,  fell  upon  the  enemy  by  surprise,  killed  above 
three  hundred  of  them  in  their  tents,  and  effected  their  retreat 
into  the  city ;  leaving  twenty  of  their  number  dead,  covered 
with  honourable  wounds,  and  in  the  very  centre  of  the  camp. 

On  the  following  day  they  made  another  sally,  and  fell  on  a 
different  quarter  of  the  encampment ;  but  the  Arabs  were  on 
their  guard,  and  met  them  with  superior  numbers.  After 
fighting  fiercely  for  a  time,  they  were  routed,  and  fled  full 
speed  for  the  city,  with  the  Arabs  hard  upon  their  traces. 
The  guards  within  feared  to  open  the  gate,  lest  with  their 
friends  they  should  admit  a  torrent  of  enemies.  Seeing  them 
selves  thus  shut  out,  the  fugitives  determined  to  die  like  brave 
soldiers  rather  than  surrender.  Wheeling  suddenly  round, 
they  opened  a  path  through  the  host  of  their  pursuers,  fought 
their  way  back  to  the  camp,  and  raged  about  it  with  desperate 
fury  until  they  were  all  slain,  after  having  killed  above  eight 
hundred  of  the  enemy.* 

Muza  now  ordered  that  the  place  should  be  taken  by  storm. 
The  Moslems  assailed  it  on  all  sides,  but  were  vigorously  re 
sisted;  many  were  slain  by  showers  of  stones,  arrows,  and 
boiling  pitch,  and  many  who  had  mounted  with  scaling  lad 
ders  were  thrown  headlong  from  the  battlements.  The  al- 
cayde,  Galo,  aided  solely  by  two  men,  defended  a  tower  and  a 
portion  of  the  wall ;  killing  and  wounding  with  a  cross-bow 

*  Abulcasim,  Perdida  de  £spafia,  L.  1,  c.  13. 


94  LEGENDS  01?  TUB  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

more  than  eighty  of  the  enemy.  The  attack  lasted  above  half 
a  day,  when  the  Moslems  were  repulsed  with  the  loss  of  fifteen 
hundred  men. 

Muza  was  astonished  and  exasperated  at  meeting  with  such 
a  formidable  resistance  from  so  small  a  city ;  for  it  was  one  of 
the  few  places,  during  that  memorable  conquest,  where  the 
Gothic  valour  shone  forth  with  its  proper  lustre.  While  the 
Moslem  army  lay  encamped  before  the  place,  it  was  joined  by 
Magued  the  renegado,  and  Count  Julian  the  traitor,  with  one 
thousand  horsemen ;  most  of  them  recreant  Christians,  base 
betrayers  of  their  country,  and  more  savage  in  their  warfare 
than  the  Arabs  of  the  desert.  To  find  favour  in  the  eyes 
of  Muza,  and  to  evince  his  devotion  to  the  cause,  the  count 
undertook,  by  wily  stratagem,  to  put  this  gallant  city  in  his 
power. 

One  evening,  just  at  twilight,  a  number  of  Christians, 
habited  as  travelling  merchants,  arrived  at  one  of  the  gates, 
conducting  a  train  of  mules  laden  with  arms  and  warlike 
munitions.  "Open  the  gate  quickly,"  cried  they;  "we  bring 
supplies  for  the  garrison,  but  the  Arabs  have  discovered,  and 
are  in  pursuit  of  us."  The  gate  was  thrown  open,  the  mer 
chants  entered  with  their  beasts  of  burden,  and  were  joyfully 
received.  Meat  and  drink  were  placed  before  them,  and  after 
they  had  refreshed  themselves  they  retired  to  the  quarters 
allotted  to  them. 

These  pretended  merchants  were  Count  Julian  and  a  number 
of  his  partisans.  At  the  hour  of  midnight  they  stole  forth 
silently,  and  assembling  together,  proceeded  to  what  was 
called  the  Gate  of  Cordova.  Here  setting  suddenly  upon  the 
unsuspecting  guards,  they  put  them  to  the  edge  of  the  sword, 
and  throwing  open  the  gates,  admitted  a  great  body  of  the 
Arabs.  The  inhabitants  were  roused  from  their  sleep  by  sound 
of  drum  and  trumpet,  and  the  clattering  of  horses.  The  Arabs 
scoured  the  streets;  a  horrible  massacre  was  commenced,  in 
which  none  were  spared  but  such  of  the  females  as  were  young 
and  beautiful,  and  fitted  to  grace  the  harems  of  the  conquerors. 
The  arrival  of  Muza,  put  an  end  to  the  pilla,ge  and  the  slaugh 
ter,  and  he  granted  favourable  terms  to  the  survivors.  Thus 
the  valiant  little  city  of  Carmona,  after  nobly  resisting  the 
open  assaults  of  the  infidels,  fell  a  victim  to  the  treachery  of 
apostate  Christians.  * 

*  Cron.  gen.  de  Espafia,  por  Alonzo  el  Sabio.     P.  3,  c.  1. 


LEGEND  OF  THE  SUBJUGATION  OF  SPAIN.         95 
CHAPTER  VIII. 

MUZA  MARCHES  AGAINST  THE  CITY  OF  SEVILLE. 

AFTER  the  capture  of  Carmona,  Muza  descended  into  a  noble 
plain,  covered  with  fields  of  grain,  with  orchards  and  gardens, 
through  which  glided  the  soft-flowing  Guadalquivir.  On  the 
borders  of  the  river  stood  the  .ancient  city  of  Seville,  sur 
rounded  by  Roman  walls,  and  defended  by  its  golden  tower. 
Understanding  from  his  spies  that  the  city  had  lost  the  flower  of 
its  youth  in  the  battle  of  the  Guadalete,  Muza  anticipated  but  a 
faint  resistance.  A  considerable  force,  however,  still  remained 
within  the  place,  and  what  they  wanted  in  numbers  they  made 
up  in  resolution.  For  some  days  they  withstood  the  assaults 
of  the  enemy,  and  defended  their  walls  with  great  courage. 
Their  want  of  warlike  munitions,  however,  and  the  superior 
force  and  skill  of  the  besieging  army,  left  them  no  hope  of 
being  able  to  hold  out  long.  There  were  two  youthful  cava 
liers  of  uncommon  valour  in  the  city.  They  assembled  the 
warriors  and  addressed  them.  "We  cannot  save  the  city," 
said  they ;  ' '  but  at  least  we  may  save  ourselves,  and  preserve 
so  many  strong  arms  for  the  service  of  our  country.  Let  us 
cut  our  way  through  the  infidel  force  and  gain  some  secure 
fortress,  from  whence  we  may  return  with  augmented  num 
bers  for  the  rescue  of  the  city. " 

The  advice  of  the  young  cavaliers  was  adopted.  In  the 
dead  of  the  night  the  garrison  assembled  to  the  number  of 
about  three  thousand;  the  most  part  mounted  on  horse oack. 
Suddenly  sallying  from  one  of  the  gates,  they  rushed  in  a  com 
pact  body  upon  the  camp  of  the  Saracens,  which  was  negli 
gently  guarded,  for  the  Moslems  expected  no  such  act  of 
desperation.  The  camp  was  a  scene  of  great  carnage  and 
confusion;  many  were  slain  on  both  sides;  the  two  valiant 
leaders  of  the  Christians  fell  covered  with  wounds,  but  the 
main  body  succeeded  in  forcing  their  way  through  the  centre 
of  the  army,  and  in  making  their  retreat  to  Beja  in  Lusitania. 

Muza  was  at  a  loss  to  know  the  meaning  of  this  desperate 
sally.  In  the  morning  he  perceived  the  gates  of  the  city  wide 
open.  A  number  of  ancient  and  venerable  men  presented 
themselves  at  his  tent,  offering  submission  and  imploring 
mercy,  for  none  were  left  in  the  place  but  the  old,  the  infirm, 
and  the  miserable.  Muza  listened  to  them  with  compassion, 


96  LEGENDS   OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN'. 

and  granted  their  prayer,  and  the  only  tribute  he  exacted  was 
three  measures  of  wheat  and  three  of  barley  from  each  house 
or  family.  He  placed  a  garrison  of  Arabs  in  the  city,  and  left 
there  a  number  of  Jews  to  form  a  body  of  population.  Having 
thus  secured  two  important  places  in  Andalusia,  he  passed  the 
boundaries  of  the  province,  and  advanced  with  great  martial 
pomp  into  Lusitania. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

MUZA  BESIEGES  THE  OITY  OF  MERIDA. 

THE  army  of  Muza  was  now  augmented  to  about  eighteen 
thousand  horsemen,  but  he  took  with  him  but  few  foot-sol 
diers,  leaving  them  to  garrison  the  conquered  towns.  He  met 
with  no  resistance  on  his  entrance  into  Lusitania.  City  after 
city  laid  its  keys  at  his  feet,  and  implored  to  be  received  into 
peaceful  vassalage.  One  city  alone  prepared  for  vigorous  de 
fence,  the  ancient  Merida,  a  place  of  great  extent,  uncounted 
riches,  and  prodigious  strength.  A  noble  Goth  named  Sacarus 
was  the  governor ;  a  man  of  consummate  wisdom,  patriotism, 
and  valour.  Hearing  of  the  approach  of  the  invaders,  he 
gathered  within  the  walls  all  the  people  of  the  surrounding 
country,  with  their  horses  and  mules,  their  flocks  and  herds 
and  most  precious  effects.  To  insure  for  a  long  time  a  supply 
of  bread,  he  filled  the  magazines  with  grain,  and  erected  wind 
mills  on  the  churches.  This  done,  he  laid  waste  the  surround 
ing  country  to  a  great  extent,  so  that  a  besieging  army  would 
have  to  encamp  in  a  desert. 

When  Muza  came  in  sight  of  this  magnificent  city,  he  was 
struck  with  admiration.  He  remained  for  some  time  gazing 
in  silence  upon  its  mighty  walls  and  lordly  towers,  its  vast  ex 
tent,  and  the  stately  palaces  and  temples  with  which  it  was 
adorned.  "Surely,"  cried  he,  at  length,  "all  the  people  of  the 
earth  have  combined  their  power  and  skill  to  embellish  and 
aggrandize  this  city.  Allah  Achbar !  Happy  will  he  be  who 
shall  have  the  glory  of  making  such  a  conquest !" 

Seeing  that  a  place  so  populous  and  so  strongly  fortified 
would  be  likely  to  maintain  a  long  and  formidable  resistance, 
he  sent  messengers  to  Africa  to  his  son  Abdalasis,  to  collect  all 


LEGEND   OF  THE  SUBJUGATION  OF  SPAIN.         97 

the  forces  that  could  be  spared  from  the  garrisons  of  Mauri 
tania,  and  to  hasten  and  reinforce  him. 

While  Muza  was  forming  his  encampment,  deserters  from 
the  city  brought  him  word  that  a  chosen  band  intended  to 
sally  forth  at  midnight  and  surprise  his  camp.  The  Arab  com 
mander  immediately  took  measures  to  receive  them  with  a 
counter  surprise.  Having  formed  his  plan,  and  communicated 
it  to  his  principal  officers,  he  ordered  that,  throughout  the  day, 
there  should  be  kept  up  an  appearance  of  negligent  confusion 
in  his  encampment.  The  outposts  were  feebly  guarded ;  fires 
were  lighted  in  various  places,  as  if  preparing  for  feasting; 
bursts  of  music  and  shouts  of  revelry  resounded  from  different 
quarters,  and  the  whole  camp  seemed  to  be  rioting  in  careless 
security  on  the  plunder  of  the  land.  As  the  night  advanced, 
the  fires  were  gradually  extinguished,  and  silence  ensued,  as  if 
the  soldiery  had  sunk  into  deep  sleep  after  the  carousal. 

In  the  meantime,  bodies  of  troops  had  been  secretly  and 
silently  marched  to  reinforce  the  outposts;  and  the  renegado 
Magued,  with  a  numerous  force,  had  formed  an  ambuscade  in 
a  deep  stone  quarry  by  which  the  Christians  would  have  to 
pass.  These  preparations  being  made,  they  awaited  the  ap 
proach  of  the  enemy  in-  breathless  silence. 

About  midnight,  the  chosen  force  intended  for  the  sally 
assembled,  and  the  command  was  confided  to  Count  Tendero, 
a  Gothic  cavalier  of  tried  prowess.  After  having  heard  a 
solemn  mass  and  received  the  benediction  of  the  priest,  they 
marched  out  of  the  gate  with  all  possible  silence.  They  were 
suffered  to  pass  the  ambuscade  in  the  quarry  without  molesta 
tion;  as  they  approached  the  Moslem  camp,  every  thing  ap 
peared  quiet,  for  the  foot-soldiers  were  concealed  in  slopes  and 
hollows,  and  every  Arab  horseman  lay  in  his  armour  beside 
his  steed.  The  sentinels  on  the  outposts  waited  until  the 
Christians  were  close  at  hand,  and  then  fled  in  apparent  con 
sternation. 

Count  Tendero  gave  the  signal  for  assault,  and  the  Chris 
tians  rushed  confidently  forward.  In  an  instant  an  uproar  of 
drums,  trumpets,  and  shrill  war-cries  burst  forth  from  every 
side.  An  army  seemed  to  spring  up  from  the  earth ;  squadrons 
of  horse  came  thundering  on  them  in  front,  while  the  quarry 
poured  forth  legions  of  armed  warriors  in  their  rear. 

The  noise  of  the  terrific  conflict  that  took  place  was  heard  on 
the  city  walls,  and  answered  by  shouts  of  exultation,  for  the 
Christians  thought  it  rose  from  the  terror  and  confusion  of  the 


08  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

Arab  camp.  In  a  little  while,  however,  they  were  undeceived 
by  fugitives  from  the  fight,  aghast  with  terror,  and  covered 
with  wounds.  ' '  Hell  itself, "  cried  they,  "is  on  the  side  of 
these  infidels ;  the  earth  casts  forth  warriors  and  steeds  to  aid 
them.  We  have  fought,  not  with  men,  but  devils !" 

The  greater  part  of  the  chosen  troops  who  had  sallied,  were 
cut  to  pieces  in  that  scene  of  massacre,  for  they  had  been  con 
founded  by  the  tempest  of  battle  which  suddenly  broke  forth 
around  them.  Count  Tendero  fought  with  desperate  valour, 
and  fell  covered  with  wounds.  His  body  was  found  the  next 
morning,  lying  among  the  slain,  and  transpierced  with  half  a 
score  of  lances.  The  renegado  Magued  cut  off  his  head  and 
tied  it  to  the  tail  of  his  horse,  and  repaired  with  this  savage 
trophy  to  the  tent  of  Muza ;  but  the  hostility  of  the  Arab  gen 
eral  was  of  a  less  malignant  kind.  He  ordered  that  the  head 
and  body  should  be  placed  together  upon  a  bier  and  treated 
with  becoming  reverence. 

In  the  course  of  the  day  a  train  of  priests  and  friars  came 
forth  from  the  city  to  request  permission  to  seek  for  the  body 
of  the  count.  Muza  delivered  it  to  them,  with  many  soldier 
like  encomiums  on  the  valour  of  that  good  cavalier.  The 
priests  covered  it  with  a  pall  of  cloth  of-  gold,  and  bore  it  back 
in  melancholy  procession  to  the  city,  where  it  was  received 
with  loud  lamentations. 

The  siege  was  now  pressed  with  great  vigour,  and  repeated 
assaults  were  made,  but  in  vain.  Muza  saw,  at  length,  that  the 
walls  were  too  high  to  be  scaled,  and  the  gates  too  strong  to  be 
burst  open  without  the  aid  of  engines,  and  he  desisted  from 
the  attack  until  machines  for  the  purpose  could  be  constructed. 
The  governor  suspected  from  this  cessation  of  active  warfare, 
that  the  enemy  flattered  themselves  tc  reduce  the  place  by  fa 
mine;  he  caused,  therefore,  large  baskets  of  bread  to  be  thrown 
from  the  wall,  and  sent  a  messenger  to  Muza  to  inform  him  that 
if  his  army  should  be  in  want  of  bread,  he  would  supply  it,  hav 
ing  sufficient  corn  in  his  granaries  for  a  ten  years'  siege.* 

The  citizens,  however,  did  not  possess  the  undaunted  spirit 
of  their  governor.  When  they  found  that  the  Moslems  were 
constructing  tremendous  engines  for  the  destruction  of  their 
walls,  they  lost  all  courage,  and,  surrounding  the  governor  in 
a  clamorous  multitude,  compelled  him  to  send  forth  persons  to 
capitulate. 

*  jBJeda,  Crouica,  L.  3.  c,  11, 


LEGEND   OF  THE  SUBJUGATION  OF  SPAIN.         99 

The  ambassadors  came  into  the  presence  of  Muza  with  awe, 
for  they  expected  to  find  a  fierce  and  formidable  warrior  in 
one  who  had  filled  the  land  with  terror ;  but  to  their  astonish 
ment,  they  beheld  an  ancient  and  venerable  man,  with  white 
hair,  a  snowy  beard,  and  a  pale  emaciated  countenance.  He 
had  passed  the  previous  night  without  sleep,  and  had  been  all 
day  in  the  field ;  he  was  exhausted,  therefore,  by  watchfulness 
and  fatigue,  and  his  garments  were  covered  with  dust. 

"What  a  devil  of  a  man  is  this,"  murmured  the  ambassa 
dors,  one  to  another,  uto  undertake  such  a  siege  when  on  the 
verge  of  the  grave.  Let  us  defend  our  city  the  best  way  we 
can ;  surely  we  can  hold  out  longer  than  the  life  of  this  gray- 
beard." 

They  returned  to  the  city,  therefore,  scoifing  at  an  invader 
who  seemed  fitter  to  lean  on  a  crutch  than  wield  a  lance ;  and 
the  terms  offered  by  Muza,  which  would  otherwise  have  been 
thought  favourable,  were  scornfully  rejected  by  the  inhabitants. 
A  few  days  put  an  end  to  this  mistaken  confidence.  Abdalasis, 
the  son  of  Muza,  arrived  from  Africa  at  the  head  of  his  rein 
forcement  ;  he  brought  seven  thousand  horsemen  and  a  host  of 
Barbary  archers,  and  made  a  glorious  display  as  he  marched 
into  the  camp.  The  arrival  of  this  youthful  warrior  was 
hailed  with  great  acclamations,  so  much  had  he  won  the  hearts 
of  the  soldiery  by  the  frankness,  the  suavity,  and  generosity 
of  his  conduct.  Immediately  after  his  arrival  a  grand  assault 
was  made  upon  the  city,  and  several  of  the  huge  battering 
engines  being  finished,  they  were  wheeled  up  and  began  to 
thunder  against  the  walls. 

The  unsteady  populace  were  again  seized  with  terror,  and, 
surrounding  their  governor  with  fresh  clamours,  obliged  him 
to  send  forth  ambassadors  a  second  time  to  treat  of  a  surrender. 
When  admitted  to  the  presence  of  Muza,  the  ambassadors 
could  scarcely  believe  their  eyes,  or  that  this  was  the  same 
withered,  white-headed  old  man  of  whom  they  had  lately 
spoken  with  scoffing.  His  hair  and  beard  were  tinged  of  a 
ruddy  brown;  his  countenance  was  refreshed  by  repose  and 
flushed  with  indignation,  and  he  appeared  a  man  in  the 
matured  vigour  of  his  days.  The  ambassadors  were  struck 
with  awe.  "  Surely,"  whispered  they,  one  to  the  other,  "this 
must  be  either  a  devil  or  a  magician,  who  can  thus  make  him 
self  old  and  young  at  pleasure." 

Muza  received  them  haughtily.  * '  Hence, "  said  he,  ' '  and  tell 
your  people  I  grant  them  the  same  terms  I  have  alreadv  prof- 


100         LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

fered,  provided  the  city  be  instantly  surrendered ;  but,  by  the 
head  of  Mahomet,  if  there  be  any  further  delay,  not  one 
mother's  son  of  ye  shall  receive  mercy  at  my  hands !" 

The  deputies  returned  into  the  city  pale  and  dismayed. 
"Go  forth!  go  forth!"  cried  they,  "and  accept  whatever 
terms  are  offered ;  of  what  avail  is  it  to  fight  against  men  who 
can  renew  their  youth  at  pleasure?  Behold,  we  left  the  leader 
of  the  infidels  an  old  and  feeble  man,  and  to-day  we  find  him 
youthful  and  vigorous. "  * 

The  place  was,  therefore,  surrendered  forthwith,  and  Muza 
entered  it  in  triumph.  His  terms  were  merciful.  Those  who 
chose  to  remain  were  protected  in  persons,  possessions,  and 
religion ;  he  took  the  property  of  those  only  who  abandoned 
the  city  or  had  fallen  in  battle ;  together  with  all  arms  and 
horses,  and  the  treasures  and  ornaments  of  the  churches. 
Among  these  sacred  spoils  was  found  a  cup  made  of  a  single 
pearl,  which  a  king  of  Spain,  in  ancient  times,  had  brought 
from  the  temple  of  Jerusalem  when  it  was  destroyed  by 
Nabuchodonosor.  This  precious  relic  was  sent  by  Muza  to  the 
caliph,  and  was  placed  in  the  principal  mosque  of  the  city  of 
Damascus.! 

Muza  knew  how  to  esteem  merit  even  in  an  enemy.  When 
Sacarus,  the  governor  of  Merida,  appeared  before  him,  he 
lauded  him  greatly  for  the  skill  and  courage  he  had  displayed 
in  the  defence  of  his  city ;  and,  taking  off  his  own  scimitar, 
which  was  of  great  value,  girded  it  upon  him  with  his  own 
hands.  "Wear  this,"  said  he,  "as  a  poor  memorial  of  my 
admiration ;  a  soldier  of  such  virtue  and  valour  is  worthy  of 
far  higher  honours. " 

He  would  have  engaged  the  governor  in  his  service,  or  have 
persuaded  him  to  remain  in  the  city,  as  an  illustrious  vassal  of 
the  caliph,  but  the  noble-minded  Sacarus  refused  to  bend  to  the 
yoke  of  the  conquerors;  nor  could  he  bring  himself  to  reside 
contentedly  in  his  country,  when  subjected  to  the  domination 
of  the  infidels.  Gathering  together  all  those  who  chose  to 
accompany  him  into  exile,  he  embarked  to  seek  some  country 
where  he  might  live  in  peace  and  in  the  free  exercise  of  his 
religion.  What  shore  these  ocean  pilgrims  landed  upon  has 
never  been  revealed ;  but  tradition  vaguely  gives  us  to  believe 

*  Conde.  p.  1,  c.  13.  Ambrosio  de  Morales.  N.  B.— In  the  chronicle  of  Spain, 
composed  by  order  of  Alonzo  the  Wise,  this  anecdote  is  given  as  having  happened 
at  the  siege  of  Seville. 

t  Marmol.  Descrip.  de  Africa,  T.  1,  L.  2. 


LEGEND   Of  THE  SUBJUGATION  OF  SPAIN.       101 

that  it  was  some  unknown  island  far  in  the  bosom  of  the 
Atlantic.* 


CHAPTER  X. 

EXPEDITION    OP    ABDALASIS    AGAINST    SEVILLE    AND    THE    "LAND 
OF  TADMIR." 

AFTER  the  capture  of  Merida,  Muza  gave  a  grand  banquet 
to  his  captains  and  distinguished  warriors  in  that  magnificent 
city.  At  this  martial  feast  were  many  Arab  cavaliers  who  had 
been  present  in  various  battles,  and  they  vied  with  each  other 
in  recounting  the  daring  enterprises  in  which  they  had  been 
engaged,  and  the  splendid  triumphs  they  had  witnessed.  While 
they  talked  with  ardour  and  exultation,  Abdalasis,  the  son  of 
Muza,  alone  kept  silence,  and  sat  with  a  dejected  countenance. 
At  length,  when  there  was  a  pause,  he  turned  to  his  father 
and  addressed  him  with  modest  earnestness.  "  My  lord  and 
father,"  said  he,  "I  blush  to  hear  your  warriors  recount  the 
toils  and  dangers  they  have  passed,  while  I  have  done  nothing 
to  entitle  me  to  their  companionship.  When  I  return  to  Egypt 
and  present  myself  before  the  caliph,  he  will  ask  me  of  my 
services  in  Spain;  what  battle  I  have  gained;  what  town  or 
castle  I  have  taken.  How  shall  I  answer  him?  If  you  love 
me,  then,  as  your  son,  give  me  a  command,  entrust  to  me 
an  enterprise,  and  let  me  acquire  a  name  worthy  to  be  men 
tioned  among  men." 

The  eyes  of  Muza  kindled  with  joy  at  finding  Abdalasis  thus 
ambitious  of  renown  in  arms.  "  Allah  be  praised!"  exclaimed 
he,  "the  heart  of  my  son  is  in  the  right  place.  It  is  becoming 
in  youth  to  look  upwards  and  be  aspiring.  Thy  desire,  Ab 
dalasis,  shall  be  gratified." 

An  opportunity  at  that  very  tune  presented  itself  to  prove 
the  prowess  and  discretion  of  the  youth.  During  the  siege  of 
Merida,  the  Christian  troops  which  had  taken  refuge  at  Beja 
had  reinforced  themselves  from  Penaflor,  and  suddenly  return 
ing,  had  presented  themselves  before  the  gates  of  the  city  of 
Seville,  t  Certain  of  the  Christian  inhabitants  threw  open  the 


*  Abulcasim,  Perdida  de  Espafia,  L.  1,  c.  13. 
t  Espinosa,  Antq.  7  Grand,  de  Seville,  L.  2,  c.  3. 


302         LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

gates  and  admitted  them.  The  troops  rushed  to  the  alcazar, 
took  it  by  surprise,  and  put  many  of  the  Moslem  garrison  tc 
the  sword;  the  residue  made  their  escape,  and  fled  to  the 
Arab  camp  before  Merida,  leaving  Seville  in  the  hands  of  the 
Christians. 

The  veteran  Muza,  now  that  the  siege  of  Merida  was  at  an 
end,  was  meditating  the  recapture  and  punishment  of  Seville  at 
the  very  time  when  Abdalasis  addressed  him.  "  Behold,  my 
son, "  exclaimed  he,  ' '  an  enterprise  worthy  of  thy  ambition ! 
Take  with  thee  all  the  troops  thou  hast  brought  from  Africa ; 
reduce  the  city  of  Seville  again  to  subjection,  und  plant  thy 
standard  upon  its  alcazar.  But  stop  not  there :  carry  thy  con 
quering  sword  into  the  southern  parts  of  Spain ;  thou  will  find 
there  a  harvest  of  glory  yet  to  be  reaped." 

Abdalasis  lost  no  time  in  departing  upon  this  enterprise. 
He  took  with  him  Count  Julian,  Magued  el  Rumi,  and  the 
Bishop  Oppas,  that  he  might  benefit  by  their  knowledge  of  the 
country.  When  he  came  in  sight  of  the  fair  city  of  Seville, 
seated  like  a  queen  in  the  midst  of  its  golden  plain,  with  the 
Guadalquivir  flowing  beneath  its  walls,  he  gazed  upon  it  with 
the  admiration  of  a  lover,  and  lamented  in  his  soul  that  he 
had  to  visit  it  as  an  avenger.  His  troops,  however,  regarded 
it  with  wrathful  eyes,  thinking  only  of  its  rebellion,  and  of 
the  massacre  of  their  countrymen  in  the  alcazar. 

The  principal  people  in  the  city  had  taken  no  part  in  this 
gallant  but  fruitless  insurrection ;  and  now,  when  they  beheld 
the  army  of  Abdalasis  encamped  upon  the  banks  ot  the 
Guadalquivir,  would  fain  have  gone  forth  to  make  explana 
tions,  and  intercede  for  mercy.  The  populace,  however,  for 
bade  any  one  to  leave  the  city,  and  barring  the  gates,  prepared 
to  defend  themselves  to  the  last. 

The  place  was  attacked  with  resistless  fury.  The  gates  were 
soon  burst  open;  the  Moslems  rushed  in,  panting  for  revenge. 
They  confined  not  their  slaughter  to  the  soldiery  in  the  alca 
zar,  but  roamed  through  every  street,  confounding  the  inno 
cent  with  the  guilty  in  one  bloody  massacre,  and  it  was  with 
the  utmost  difficulty  that  Abdalasis  could  at  length  succeed  in 
staying  their  sanguinary  career.* 

The  son  of  Muza  proved  himself  as  mild  in  conquest  as  he 
had  been  intrepid  in  assault.  The  moderation  and  benignity 
of  his  conduct  soothed  the  terrors  of  the  vanquished,  and  his 

*  Conae,  P.  1,  c,  14. 


LEGEND   OF  THE  SUBJUGATION  OF  SPAIN.       103 

wise  precautions  restored  tranquillity.  Having  made  proper 
regulations  for  the  protection  of  the  inhabitants,  he  left  a 
strong  garrison  in  tne  place  to  prevent  any  future  insurrec 
tion,  and  then  departed  on  the  further  prosecution  of  his 
enterprise. 

Wherever  he  went  his  arms  were  victorious ;  and  his  vic 
tories  were  always  characterised  by  the  same  magnanimity. 
At  length  he  arrived  on  the  confines  of  that  beautiful  region 
comprising  lofty  and  precipitous  mountains  and  rich  and  deli 
cious  plains,  afterwards  known  by  the  name  of  the  kingdom 
of  Murcia.  All  this  part  of  the  country  was  defended  by  the 
veteran  Theodomir,  who,  by  skilful  management,  had  saved  a 
remnant  of  his  forces  after  the  defeat  on  the  banks  of  the 
Guadalete. 

Theodomir  was  a  stanch  warrior,  but  a  wary  and  prudent 
man.  He  had  experienced  the  folly  of  opposing  the  Arabs  in  open 
field,  where  their  cavalry  and  armour  gave  them  such  superior 
ity;  on  their  approach,  therefore,  he  assembled  all  his  people 
capable  of  bearing  arms,  and  took  possession  of  the  cliffs  and 
mountain  passes.  4 ' Here, "  said  he,  "a  simple  goatherd,  who 
can  hurl  down  rocks  and  stones,  is  as  good  as  a  warrior  armed 
in  proof."  In  this  way  he  checked  and  harassed  the  Moslem 
army  in  all  its  movements;  showering  down  missiles  upon  it 
from  overhanging  precipices,  and  waylaying  it  in  narrow  and 
rugged  defiles,  where  a  few  raw  troops  could  make  stand 
against  a  host. 

Theodomir  was  in  a  fair  way  to  baffle  his  foes  and  oblige 
them  to  withdraw  from  his  territories;  unfortunately,  how 
ever,  the  wary  veteran  had  two  sons  with  him,  young  men  of 
hot  and  heavy  valour,  who  considered  all  this  prudence  of  their 
father  as  savouring  of  cowardice,  and  who  were  anxious  to  try 
their  prowess  in  the  open  field.  "  What  glory,"  said  they,  "is 
to  be  gained  by  destroying  an  enemy  in  this  way,  from  the  co 
vert  of  rocks  and  thickets?" 

"  You  talk  like  young  men,"  replied  the  veteran.  "  Glory  is 
a  prize  one  may  fight  for  abroad,  but  safety  is  the  object  when 
the  enemy  is  at  the  door." 

One  day,  however,  the  young  men  succeeded  in  drawing 
down  their  father  into  the  plain.  Abdalasis  immediately  seized 
on  the  opportunity  and  threw  himself  between  the  Goths  and 
their  mountain  fastnesses.  Theodomir  saw  too  late  the  danger 
into  which  he  was  betrayed.  ' '  What  can  our  raw  troops  do, " 
said  he,  ' '  against  those  squadrons  of  horse  that  move  like  cas- 


104        LBQBNDS  OP  THE  CONQUEST  OP  SPAIfr 

ties?  Let  us  make  a  rapid  retreat  to  Orihuela  and  defend  our* 
selves  from  behind  its  walls." 

"Father,"  said  the  eldest  son,  "it  is  too  late  to  retreat; 
remain  here  with  the  reserve  while  my  brother  and  I  advance. 
Fear  nothing;  am  not  I  your  son,  and  would  I  not  die  to  de 
fend  you?" 

"  In  truth,"  replied  the  veteran,  "  I  have  my  doubts  whether 
you  are  my  son.  But  if  I  remain  here,  and  you  should  all  be 
killed,  where  then  would  be  my  protection?  Come,"  added 
he,  turning  to  the  second  son.  "  I  trust  that  thou  art  virtually 
my  son;  let  us  hasten  to  retreat  before  it  is  too  late." 

"Father,"  replied  the  youngest,  "I  have  not  a  doubt  that  I 
am  honestly  and  thoroughly  your  son,  and  as  such  I  honour 
you ;  but  I  owe  duty  likewise  to  my  mother,  and  when  I  sallied 
to  the  war  she  gave  me  her  blessing  as  long  as  I  should  act 
with  valour,  but  her  curse  should  I  prove  craven  and  fly  the 
field.  Fear  nothing,  father;  I  will  defend  you  while  living, 
and  even  after  you  are  dead.  You  shall  never  fail  of  an  hon 
ourable  sepulture  among  your  kindred." 

"A  pestilence  on  ye  both,"  cried  Theodomir,  "  for  a  brace  of 
misbegotten  madmen !  What  care  1,  think  ye,  where  ye  lay  my 
body  when  I  am  dead?  One  day's  existence  in  a  hovel  is  worth 
an  age  of  interment  in  a  marble  sepulchre.  Come,  my  friends," 
said  he,  turning  to  his  principal  cavaliers,  * '  let  us  leave  these 
hot-headed  striplings  and  make  our  retreat ;  if  we  tarry  any 
longer  the  enemy  will  be  upon  us." 

Upon  this  the  cavaliers  and  proud  hidalgoes  drew  up  scorn 
fully  and  tossed  their  heads:  "What  do  you  see  in  us,"  said 
they,  "  that  you  think  we  will  show  our  backs  to  the  enemy? 
Forward !  was  ever  the  good  old  Gothic  watchword,  and  with 
that  we  will  live  and  die !" 

While  time  was  lost  in  these  disputes,  the  Moslem  army  kept 
advancing,  until  retreat  was  no  longer  practicable.  The  battle 
was  tumultuous  and  bloody.  Theodomir  fought  like  a  lion, 
but  it  was  all  in  vain :  he  saw  his  two  sons  cut  down,  and  the 
greater  part  of  their  rash  companions,  while  his  raw  mountain 
troops  fled  in  all  directions. 

Seeing  there  was  no  longer  any  hope,  he  seized  the  bridle  of 
a  favourite  page  who  was  near  him,  and  who  was  about  spur 
ring  for  the  mountains.  "Part  not  from  me,"  said  he,  "but 
do  thou  at  least  attend  to  my  counsel,  my  son ;  and,  of  a  truth, 
I  believe  thou  art  my  son ;  for  thou  art  the  offspring  of  one  of 
my  handmaids  who  was  kind  unto  me."  And  indeed  the  youth 


LEGEND  OF  THE  SUBJUGATION  OF  SPAIN.      105 

marvellously  resembled  him.  Turning  then  the  reins  of  his 
own  steed,  and  giving  him  the  spur,  he  fled  amain  from  the 
field,  followed  by  the  page ;  nor  did  he  stop  until  he  arrived 
within  the  walls  of  Orihuela. 

Ordering  the  gates  to  be  barred  and  bolted,  he  prepared  to 
receive  the  enemy.  There  were  but  few  men  in  the  city  capa 
ble  of  bearing  arms,  most  of  the  youth  having  fallen  in  the  field. 
He  caused  the  women,  therefore,  to  clothe  themselves  in  male 
attire,  to  put  on  hats  and  helmets,  to  take  long  reeds  in  their 
hands  instead  of  lances,  and  to  cross  their  hair  upon  their  chins 
in  semblance  of  beards.  With  these  troops  he  lined  the  walls 
and  towers. 

It  was  about  the  hour  of  twilight  that  Abdalasis  approached 
with  his  army,  but  he  paused  when  he  saw  the  walls  so  numer 
ously  garrisoned.  Then  Theodomir  took  a  flag  of  truce  in  his 
hand,  and  put  a  herald's  tabard  on  the  page,  and  they  two 
sallied  forth  to  capitulate,  and  were  graciously  received  by 
Abdalasis. 

"I  come,"  said  Theodomir,  " on  the  behalf  of  the  commander 
of  this  city  to  treat  for  terms  worthy  of  your  magnanimity  and 
of  his  dignity.  You  perceive  that  the  city  is  capable  of  with 
standing  a  long  siege,  but  he  is  desirous  of  spa-ring  the  lives  of 
his  soldiers,  promise  that  the  inhabitants  sliall  be  at  liberty 
to  depart  unmolested  with  their  property,  and  the  city  will  be 
delivered  up  to  you  to-morrow  morning  without  a  blow ;  other 
wise  we  are  prepared  to  fight  until  not  a  man  be  left." 

Abdalasis  was  well  pleased  to  get  so  powerful  a  place  upon 
such  easy  terms,  but  stipulated  that  the  garrison  should  lay 
down  their  arms.  To  this  Theodomir  readily  assented,  with 
the  exception,  however,  of  the  governor  and  his  retinue,  which 
was  granted  out  of  consideration  for  his  dignity.  The  articles 
of  capitulation  were  then  drawn  out,  and  when  Abdalasis  had 
affixed  his  name  and  seal,  Theodomir  took  the  pen  and  wrote 
his  signature.  ' '  Behold  in  me, "  said  he,  ' '  the  governor  of  the 
city !" 

Abdalasis  was  pleased  with  the  hardihood  of  the  commander 
of  the  place  in  thus  venturing  personally  into  his  power,  and 
entertained  the  veteran  with  still  greater  honour.  When  Theo 
domir  returned  to  the  city,  he  made  known  the  capitulation, 
and  charged  the  inhabitants  to  pack  up  their  effects  during  the 
night  and  be  ready  to  sally  forth  in  the  morning. 

At  the  dawn  of  day  the  gates  were  thrown  open,  and  Abdala 
sis  looked  to  see  a  great  force  issuing  forth,  but,  to  his  surprise, 


106         LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

beheld  merely  Tkeodomir  and  his  page  in  battered  armour, 
followed  by  a  multitude  of  old  men,  women,  and  children. 

Abdalasis  waited  until  the  whole  had  come  forth,  then  turn 
ing  to  Theodomir,  "Where,"  cried  he,  "  are  the  soldiers  whom 
I  saw  last  evening  lining  the  walls  and  towers?" 

"  Soldiers  have  I  none,"  replied  the  veteran.  "  As  to  my  gar 
rison,  behold  it  before  you.  With  these  women  did  I  man  my 
walls,  and  this  my  page  is  my  herald,  guard,  and  retinue." 

Upon  this  the  Bishop  Oppas  and  Count  Julian  exclaimed 
that  the  capitulation  was  a  base  fraud  and  ought  not  to  be  com 
plied  with;  but  Abdalasis  relished  the  stratagem  of  the  old 
soldier,  and  ordered  that  the  stipulations  of  the  treaty  should 
be  faithfully  performed.  Nay,  so  high  an  opinion  did  he  con 
ceive  of  the  subtle  wisdom  of  this  commander,  that  he  permit 
ted  him  to  remain  in  authority  over  the  surrounding  country 
on  his  acknowledging  allegiance  and  engaging  to  pay  tribute 
to  the  caliph ;  and  all  that  part  of  Spain,  comprising  the  beau 
tiful  provinces  of  Murcia  and  Valencia,  was  long  after  known 
by  the  Arabic  name  of  its  defender,  and  is  still  recorded  in 
Arabian  chronicles  as  "  The  land  of  Tadmir."  * 

Having  succeeded  in  subduing  this  rich  and  fruitful  region, 
and  having  gained  great  renown  for  his  generosity  as  well  as 
valour,  Abdalasis  returned  with  the  chief  part  of  his  army  to 
the  city  of  Seville. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

MUZA  ARRIVES  AT    TOLEDO — INTERVIEW  BETWEEN    HIM  AND 

TARIC. 

WHEN  Muza  ben  Nosier  had  sent  his  son  Abdalasis  to  subdue 
Seville,  he  departed  for  Toledo  to  call  Taric  to  account  for  his 
disobedience  to  his  orders;  for,  amidst  all  his  own  successes, 
the  prosperous  career  of  that  commander  preyed  upon  his 
mind.  What  can  content  the  jealous  and  ambitious  heart? 
As  Muza  passed  through  the  land,  towns  and  cities  submit 
ted  to  him  without  resistance ;  he  was  lost  in  wonder  at  the 
richness  of  the  country  and  noble  monuments  of  art  with 
which  it  was  adorned ;  when  he  beheld  the  bridges,  construct- 

*  Conde,  p.  1.  Crouica  del  Moro  Rasis.  Cron.  gen.  Espaiia,  por  Alonzo  el  Sabio, 
p.  3,  c.  1. 


LEGEND  OF  THE  SUBJUGATION  OF  SPAIN.       107 

ed  in  ancient  times  by  the  Romans,  they  seemed  to  him  the 
work,  not  of  men,  bub  of  genii.  Yet  all  these  admirable  ob 
jects  only  made  htm  repine  the  more  that  he  had  not  had  the 
exclusive  glory  of  invading  and  subduing  the  land ;  and  exas 
perating  him  the  more  against  Taric,  for  having  apparently 
endeavoured  to  monopolize  the  conquest. 

Taric  heard  of  his  approach,  and  came  forth  to  meet  him  at 
Talavera,  accompanied  by  many  of  the  most  distinguished 
companions  of  his  victories,  and  with  a  train  of  horses  and 
mules  laden  with  spoils,  with  which  he  trusted  to  propitiate 
the  favour  of  his  commander.  Their  meeting  took  place  on 
the  banks  of  the  rapid  river  Tietar,  which  rises  in  the  moun 
tains  of  Placencia  and  throws  itself  into  the  Tagus.  Muza,  in 
former  days,  while  Taric  had  acted  as  his  subordinate  and 
indefatigable  officer,  had  cherished  and  considered  him  as  a  sec 
ond  self ;  but  now  that  he  had  started  up  to  be  a  rival,  he  could 
not  conceal  his  jealousy.  When  the  veteran  came  into  his 
presence,  he  regarded  him  for  a  moment  with  a  stern  and  in 
dignant  aspect.  "  Why  hast  thou  disobeyed  my  orders?"  said 
he.  "I  commanded  thee  to  await  my  arrival  with  reinforce 
ments,  but  thou  hast  rashly  overrun  the  country,  endangering 
the  loss  of  our  armies  and  the  ruin  of  our  cause." 

"  I  have  acted,"  replied  Taric,  "in  such  manner  as  I  thought 
would  best  serve  the  cause  of  Islam,  and  in  so  doing  I  thought 
to  fulfil  the  wishes  of  Muza.  Whatever  I  have  done  has  been 
as  your  servant ;  behold  your  share,  as  commander-in-chief ,  of 
the  spoils  which  I  have  collected."  So  saying,  he  produced  an 
immense  treasure  in  silver  and  gold  and  costly  stuffs,  and  pre 
cious  stones,  and  spread  it  before  Muza. 

The  anger  of  the  Arab  commander  was  still  more  kindled  at 
the  sight  of  this  booty,  for  it  proved  how  splendid  had  been 
the  victories  of  Taric ;  but  he  restrained  his  wrath  for  the  pres 
ent,  and  they  proceeded  together  in  moody  silence  to  Toledo. 
When  he  entered  this  royal  city,  however,  and  ascended  to  the 
ancient  palace  of  the  Gothic  kings,  and  reflected  that  all  this 
had  been  a  scene  of  triumph  to  his  rival,  he  could  no  longer 
repress  his  indignation.  He  demanded  of  Taric  a  strict  ac 
count  of  all  the  riches  he  had  gathered  in  Spain,  even  of  the 
presents  he  had  reserved  for  the  caliph,  and,  above  all,  he 
made  him  yield  up  his  favourite  trophy,  the  talismanic  table 
of  Solomon.  When  all  this  was  done,  he  again  upbraided  him 
bitterly  with  his  disobedience  of  orders,  and  with  the  rashness 
of  his  conduct,  "  What  blind  conscience  in.  fortune  hast  thou 


108         LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

shown,"  said  he,  "in  overrunning  such  a  country  and  assail 
ing  such  powerful  cities  with  thy  scanty  force !  What  mad 
ness,  to  venture  every  thing  upon  a  desperate  chance,  when 
thou  knewest  I  was  coming  with  a  force  to  make  the  victory 
secure.  All  thy  success  has  been  owing  to  mere  luck,  not  to 
judgment  nor  generalship." 

He  then  bestowed  high  praises  upon  the  other  chieftains  for 
their  services  in  the  cause  of  Islam,  but  they  answered  not  a 
word,  and  their  countenances  were  gloomy  and  discontented ; 
for  they  felt  the  injustice  done  to  their  favourite  leader.  As  to 
Taric,  though  his  eye  burned  like  fire,  he  kept  his  passion 
within  bounds.  ' '  I  have  done  the  best  I  could  to  serve  God 
and  the  caliph, "said  he,  emphaticalty ;  "  my  conscience  acquits 
me,  and  I  trust  my  sovereign  will  do  the  same." 

"Perhaps  he  may,"  replied  Muza,  bitterly;  "but,  in  the 
meantime,  I  cannot  confide  his  interests  to  a  desperado  who  is 
heedless  of  orders  and  throws  every  thing  at  hazard.  Such  a 
general  is  unworthy  to  be  intrusted  with  the  fate  of  armies." 

So  saying,  he  divested  Taric  of  his  command,  and  gave  it  to 
Magued  the  renegado.  The  gaunt  Taric  still  maintained  an  air 
of  stern  composure.  His  only  words  were,  ' '  The  caliph  will  do 
me  justice!"  Muza  was  so  transported  with  passion  at  this 
laconic  defiance  that  he  ordered  him  to  be  thrown  into  prison, 
and  even  threatened  his  life. 

Upon  this,  Magued  el  Rumi,  though  he  had  risen  by  the  dis 
grace  of  Taric,  had  the  generosity  to  speak  out  warmly  in  his 
favour.  "Consider,"  said  he  to  Muza,  "  what  may  be  the  con 
sequences  of  this  severity.  Taric  has  many  friends  in  the 
army;  his  actions,  too,  have  been  signal  and  illustrious,  and 
entitle  him  to  the  highest  honours  and  rewards,  instead  of  dis 
grace  and  imprisonment." 

The  anger  of  Muza,  however,  was  not  to  be  appeased ;  and  he 
trusted  to  justify  his  measures  by  despatching  missives  to  the 
caliph,  complaining  of  the  insubordination  of  Taric,  and  his 
rash  and  headlong  conduct.  The  result  proved  the  wisdom  of 
the  caution  given  by  Magued.  In  the  course  of  a  little  while 
Muza  received  a  humiliating  letter  from  the  caliph,  ordering 
him  to  restore  Taric  to  the  command  of  the  soldiers  "whom  he 
had  so  gloriously  conducted;"  and  not  to  render  useless  "one 
of  the  best  swords  in  Islam!"  * 

It  is  thus  the  envious  man  brings  humiliation  and  reproach 

*  Conde,  Part  1,  c.  J& 


LEGEND   OF  TUP:  SUBJUGATION  OF  SPAIN.       109 

Upon  himself,  in  endeavouring  to  degrade  a  meritorious  rival. 
When  the  tidings  came  of  the  justice  rendered  by  the  caliph  to 
the  merits  of  the  veteran,  there  was  general  joy  throughout 
the  army,  and  Muza  read  in  the  smiling  countenances  of  every 
one  around  him  a  severe  censure  upon  his  conduct.  He  con 
cealed,  however,  his  deep  humiliation,  and  affected  to  obey 
the  orders  of  his  sovereign  with  great  alacrity ;  he  released 
Taric  from  prison,  feasted  him  at  his  own  table,  and  then  pub 
licly  replaced  him  at  the  head  of  his  troops.  The  army  re 
ceived  its  favourite  veteran  with  shouts  of  joy,  and  celebrated 
with  rejoicings  the  reconciliation  of  the  commanders ;  but  the 
shouts  of  the  soldiery  were  abhorrent  to  the  ears  of  Muza. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

MUZA   PROSECUTES   THE   SCHEME    OF    CONQUEST— SIEGE    OF   SARA- 
GOSSA.— COMPLETE    SUBJUGATION    OF  SPAIN. 

THE  dissensions,  which  for  a  time  had  distracted  the  con 
quering  army,  being  appeased,  and  the  Arabian  generals  being 
apparently  once  more  reconciled,  Muza,  as  commander-in- 
chief,  proceeded  to  complete  the  enterprise  by  subjugating 
the  northern  parts  of  Spain.  The  same  expeditious  mode  of 
conquest  that  had  been  sagaciously  adopted  by  Taric,  was  still 
pursued.  The  troops  were  lightly  armed,  and  freed  from 
every  superfluous  incumbrance.  Each  horseman,  beside  his 
arms,  carried  a  small  sack  of  provisions,  a  copper  vessel  in 
which  to  cook  them,  and  a  skin  which  served  him  for  surcout 
and  for  bed.  The  infantry  carried  nothing  but  their  arms. 
To  each  regiment  or  squadron  was  allowed  a  limited  number  of 
simipter  mules  and  attendants ;  barely  enough  to  carry  their 
necessary  baggage  and  supplies:  nothing  was  permitted  that 
could  needlessly  diminish  the  number  of  fighting  men,  delay 
their  rapid  movements,  or  consume  their  provisions.  Strict 
orders  were  again  issued,  prohibiting,  on  pain  of  death,  all 
plunder  excepting  the  camp  of  an  enemy,  or  cities  given  up  to 
pillage.* 

The  armies  now  took  their  several  lines  of  march.     That 

*  Conde,  p.  1,  c.  15. 


110         LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

under  Taric  departed  towards  the  northeast;  beating  up  the 
country  towards  the  source  of  the  Tagus;  traversing  the  chain 
of  the  Iberian  or  Arragonian  mountains,  and  pouring  down 
into  the  plains  and  valleys  watered  by  the  Ebro.  It  was  won 
derful  to  see,  in  so  brief  a  space  of  time,  such  a  vast  and  diffi 
cult  country  penetrated  and  subdued,  and  the  invading  army, 
like  an  inundating  flood,  pouring  its  streams  into  the  most 
remote  recesses. 

While  Taric  was  thus  sweeping  the  country  to  the  northeast, 
Muza  departed  in  an  opposite  direction ;  yet  purposing  to  meet 
him,  and  join  their  forces  in  the  north.  Bending  his  course 
westwardly,  he  made  a  circuit  behind  the  mountains,  and 
then,  advancing  into  the  open  country,  displayed  his  banners 
before  Salamanca,  which  surrendered  without  resistance. 
From  hence  he  continued  on  towards  Astorga,  receiving  the 
terrified  submission  of  the  land ;  then  turning  up  the  valley  of 
the  Douro,  he  ascended  the  course  of  that  famous  river 
towards  the  east ;  crossed  the  Sierra  de  Moncayo,  and,  arriving 
on  the  banks  of  the  Ebro,  marched  down  along  its  stream, 
until  he  approached  the  strong  city  of  Saragossa,  the  citadel  of 
all  that  part  of  Spain.  In  this  place  had  taken  refuge  many  of 
the  most  valiant  of  the  Gothic  warriors;  the  remnants  of 
armies,  and  fugitives  from  conquered  cities.  It  was  one  of  the 
last  rallying  points  of  the  land.  When  Muza  arrived,  Taric 
had  already  been  for  some  time  before  the  place,  laying  close 
siege ;  the  inhabitants  were  pressed  by  famine,  and  had  suffered 
great  losses  in  repeated  combats,  but  there  was  a  spirit  and 
obstinacy  in  their  resistance  surpassing  any  thing  that  had 
yet  been  witnessed  by  the  invaders. 

Muza  now  took  command  of  the  siege,  and  ordered  a  general 
assault  upon  the  walls.  The  Moslems  planted  their  scaling 
ladders,  and  mounted  with  their  accustomed  intrepidity,  but 
were  vigorously  resisted;  nor  could  all  their  efforts  obtain 
them  a  footing  upon  the  battlements.  While  they  were  thus 
assailing  the  walls,  Count  Julian  ordered  a  heap  of  combusti 
bles  to  be  placed  against  one  of  the  gates,  and  set  on  fire.  The 
inhabitants  attempted  in  vain  from  the  barbican  to  extinguish 
the  flames.  They  burnt  so  fiercely,  that  in  a  little  while  the 
gate  fell  from  its  hinges.  Count  Julian  galloped  into  the  city, 
mounted  upon  a  powerful  charger,  himself  and  his  steed  all 
covered  with  mail.  He  was  followed  by  three  hundred  of  his 
partisans,  and  supported  by  Magued  the  renegado,  with  $ 
troop  of  horse. 


LEGEND  OP  TllH  SUBJUGATION  OF  SPATtf.       Hi 

The  inhabitants  disputed  every  street  and  public  square; 
they  made  barriers  of  dead  bodies,  fighting  behind  these  rani- 
parts  of  their  slaughtered  countrymen.  Every  window  and 
roof  was  filled  with  combatants ;  the  very  women  and  children 
joined  in  the  desperate  fight,  throwing  down  stones  and  mis 
siles  of  all  kinds,  and  scalding  water  upon  the  enemy. 

The  battle  raged  until  the  hour  of  vespers,  when  the  prin 
cipal  inhabitants  held  a  parley,  and  capitulated  for  a  surrender. 
Muza  had  been  incensed  at  their  obstinate  resistance,  which 
had  cost  the  lives  of  so  many  of  his  soldiers;  he  knew,  also, 
that  in  the  city  were  collected  the  riches  of  many  of  the  towns 
of  eastern  Spain.  He  demanded,  therefore,  beside  the  usual 
terms,  a  heavy  sum  to  be  paid  down  by  the  citizens,  called  the 
contribution  of  blood;  as  by  this  they  redeemed  themselves 
from  the  edge  of  the  sword.  The  people  were  obliged  to  com 
ply.  They  collected  all  the  jewels  of  their  richest  families, 
and  all  the  ornaments  of  their  temples,  and  laid  them  at  the 
feet  of  Muza ;  and  placed  in  his  power  many  of  their  noblest 
youths  as  hostages.  A  strong  garrison  was  then  appointed, 
and  thus  the  fierce  city  of  Saragossa  was  subdued  to  the  yoke 
of  the  conqueror. 

The  Arab  generals  pursued  their  conquests  even  to  the  foot 
of  the  Pyrenees ;  Taric  then  descended  along  the  course  of  the 
Ebro,  and  continued  along  the  Mediterranean  coast ;  subduing 
the  famous  city  of  Valencia,  with  its  rich  and  beautiful 
domains,  and  carrying  the  success  of  his  arms  even  to  Denia. 

Muza  undertook  with  his  host  a  wider  range  of  conquest. 
He  overcame  the  cities  of  Barcelona,  Gerona,  and  others  that 
lay  on  the  skirts  of  the  eastern  mountains ;  then  crossing  into 
the  land  of  the  Franks,  he  captured  the  city  of  Narbonne ;  in  a 
temple  of  which  he  found  seven  equestrian  images  of  silver, 
which  he  brought  off  as  trophies  of  his  victory.*  Returning 
into  Spain,  he  scoured  its  northern  regions  along  Gallicia  and 
the  Asturias;  passed  triumphantly  through  Lusitania,  and 
arrived  once  more  in  Andalusia,  covered  with  laurels  and 
enriched  with  immense  spoils. 

Thus  was  completed  the  subjugation  of  unhappy  Spain.  All 
its  cities  and  fortresses,  and  strong-holds,  were  in  the  hands  of 
the  Saracens,  excepting  some  of  the  wild  mountain  tracts  that 
bordered  the  Atlantic,  and  extended  towards  the  north.  Here, 
then,  the  story  of  the  conquest  might  conclude,  but  that  the 

*  Conde,  p.  1,  c.  16. 


LEGENDS  OF  Tim  COKQUKST  OF  SPAIN. 

indefatigable  chronicler,  Fray  Antonio  Agapida,  goes  on  to 
record  the  fate  of  those  persons  who  were  most  renowned  in 
the  enterprise.  We  shall  follow  his  steps,  and  avail  ourselves 
of  his  information,  laboriously  collected  from  various  sources ; 
and,  truly,  the  story  of  each  of  the  actors  in  this  great  his 
torical  drama,  bears  with  it  its  striking  moral,  and  is  full  of 
admonition  and  instruction 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

FEUD  BETWEEN  THE  ARAB  GENERALS— THEY  ARE  SUMMONED  TO 
APPEAR  BEFORE  THE  CALIPH  AT  DAMASCUS — RECEPTION  OF 
TARIC. 

THE  heart  of  Muza  ben  Nosier  was  now  lifted  up,  for  he  con 
sidered  his  glory  complete.  He  held  a  sway  that  might  have 
gratified  the  ambition  of  the  proudest  sovereign,  for  all  west 
ern  Africa  and  the  newly  acquired  peninsula  of  Spain  were 
obedient  to  his  rule ;  and  he  was  renowned  throughout  all  the 
lands  of  Islam  as  the  great  conqueror  of  the  west.  But  sudden 
humiliation  awaited  him  in  the  very  moment  of  his  highest 
triumph. 

Notwithstanding  the  outward  reconciliation  of  Muza  and 
Taric,  a  deep  and  implacable  hostility  continued  to  exist  be 
tween  them;  and  each  had  busy  partisans  who  distracted  the 
armies  by  their  feuds.  Letters  were  incessantly  despatched  to 
Damascus  by  either  party,  exalting  the  merits  of  their  own 
leader  and  decrying  his  rival.  Taric  was  represented  as  rash, 
arbitrary,  and  prodigal,  and  as  injuring  the  discipline  of  the 
army,  by  sometimes  treating  it  with  extreme  rigour,  and  at 
other  times  giving  way  to  licentiousness  and  profusion.  Muza 
was  lauded  as  prudent,  sagacious,  dignified,  and  systematic  in 
his  dealings.  The  friends  of  Taric,  on  the  other  hand,  repre 
sented  him  as  brave,  generous,  and  high-minded;  scrupulous 
in  reserving  to  his  sovereign  his  rightful  share  of  the  spoils, 
but  distributing  the  rest  bounteously  among  his  soldiers,  and 
thus  increasing  their  alacrity  in  the  service.  "Muza,  on  the 
contrary,"  said  they,  "is  grasping  and  insatiable;  he  levies 
intolerable  contributions  and  collects  immense  treasure,  but 
sweeps  it  all  into  his  own  coffers." 


LEGEND   OF  TllK  SUBJUGATION  0V  SPAIN.       113 

The  caliph  was  at  length  wearied  out  by  these  complaints, 
and  feared  that  the  safety  of  the  cause  might  be  endangered 
by  the  dissensions  of  the  rival  generals.  He  sent  letters,  there 
fore,  ordering  them  to  leave  suitable  persons  in  charge  of  their 
several  commands,  and  appear,  forthwith,  before  him  at  Da 
mascus. 

Such  was  the  greeting  from  his  sovereign  that  awaited  Muza 
on  his  return  from  the  conquest  of  northern  Spain.  It  was 
a  grievous  blow  to  a  man  of  his  pride  and  ambition ;  but  he 
prepared  instantly  to  obey.  He  returned  to  Cordova,  collect 
ing  by  the  way  all  the  treasures  he  had  deposited  in  various 
places.  At  that  city  he  called  a  meeting  of  his  principal 
officers,  and  of  the  leaders  of  the  faction  of  apostate  Christians, 
and  made  them  all  do  homage  to  his  son  Abdalasis,  as  emir  or 
governor  of  Spain.  He  gave  this  favourite-  son  much  sage 
advice  for  the  regulation  of  his  conduct,  and  left  with  him  his 
nephew,  Ayub,  a  man  greatly  honoured  by  the  Moslems  for  his 
wisdom  and  discretion ;  exhorting  Abdalasis  to  consult  him  on 
all  occasions  and  consider  him  as  his  bosom  counsellor.  He 
made  a  parting  address  to  his  adherents,  full  of  cheerful  con 
fidence  ;  assuring  them  that  he  would  soon  return,  loaded  with 
new  favours  and  honours  by  his  sovereign,  and  enabled  to  re 
ward  them  all  for  their  faithful  services. 

When  Muza  sallied  forth  from  Cordova,  to  repair  to  Damas 
cus,  his  cavalgada  appeared  like  the  sumptuous  pageant  of 
some  oriental  potentate;  for  he  had  numerous  guards  and 
attendants  splendidly  armed  and  arrayed,  together  with  four 
hundred  hostages,  who  were  youthful  cavaliers  of  the  noblest 
families  of  the  Goths,  and  a  great  number  of  captives  of  both 
sexes,  chosen  for  their  beauty,  and  intended  as  presents  for  the 
caliph.  Then  there  was  a  vast  train  of  beasts  of  burden,  laden 
with  the  plunder  of  Spain ;  for  he  took  with  him  all  the  wealth 
he  had  collected  in  his  conquests ;  and  all  the  share  that  had 
been  set  apart  for  his  sovereign.  With  this  display  of  trophies 
and  spoils,  showing  the  magnificence  of  the  land  he  had  con 
quered,  he  looked  with  confidence  to  silence  the  calumnies  of 
his  foes. 

As  he  traversed  the  valley  of  the  Guadalquivir  he  often 
turned  and  looked  back  wistfully  upon  Cordova ;  and,  at  the 
distance  of  a  league,  when  about  to  lose  sight  of  it,  lie  checked 
his  steed  upon  the  summit  of  a  hill,  and  gazed  for  a  long  time 
upon  its  palaces  and  towers.  ' '  O  Cordova  I"  exclaimed  he, 
"  great  and  glorious  art  thou  among  cities,  and  abundant  in  all 


114         EK&EtfDS  OF  THE  COXQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

delights.  With  grief  and  sorrow  do  I  part  from  thee,  for  sure 
I  am  it  would  give  me  length  of  days  to  abide  within  thy 
pleasant  walls !"  When  he  had  uttered  these  words,  say  the 
Arabian  chronicles,  he  resumed  his  wayfaring;  but  his  eyes 
were  bent  upon  the  ground,  and  frequent  sighs  bespoke  the 
heaviness  of  his  heart. 

Embarking  at  Cadiz  he  passed  over  to  Africa  with  all  his 
people  and  eft'ects,  to  regulate  his  government  in  that  country. 
He  divided  the  command  between  his  sons,  Abdelola  and  Me- 
ruan,  leaving  the  former  in  Tangier,  and  the  latter  in  Cairvan. 
Thus  having  secured,  as  he  thought,  the  power  and  prosperity 
of  his  family,  by  placing  all  his  sons  as  his  lieutenants  in- the 
country  he  had  conquered,  he  departed  for  Syria,  bearing  with 
him  the  sumptuous  spoils  of  the  west. 

While  Muza  was  thus  disposing  of  his  commands,  and  mov 
ing  cumbrously  under  the  weight  of  wealth,  the  veteran  Tarie 
was  more  speedy  and  alert  in  obeying  the  summons  of  the 
caliph.  He  knew  the  importance,  where  complaints  were  to 
be  heard,  of  being  first  in  presence  of  the  judge ;  beside,  he  was 
ever  ready  to  march  at  a  moment's  warning,  and  had  nothing 
to  impede  him  in  his  movements.  The  spoils  he  had  made  in 
his  conquests  had  either  been  shared  among  his  soldiers,  or 
yielded  up  to  Muza,  or  squandered  away  with  open-handed 
profusion.  He  appeared  in  Syria  with  a  small  train  of  war 
worn  followers,  and  had  no  other  trophies  to  show  than  his 
battered  armour,  and  a  body  seamed  with  scars.  He  was  re 
ceived,  however,  with  rapture  by  the  multitude,  who  crowded 
to  behold  one  of  those  conquerors  of  the  west,  whose  wonderful 
achievements  were  the  theme  of  every  tongue.  They  were 
charmed  with  his  gaunt  and  martial  air,  his  hard  sunburnt 
features,  and  his  scathed  eye.  "  All  hail,"  cried  they,  "  to  the 
sword  of  Islam,  the  terror  of  the  unbelievers-!  Behold  the  true 
model  of  a  warrior,  who  despises  gain  and  seeks  for  nought  but 
glory!" 

Taric  was  graciously  received  by  the  caliph,  who  asked 
tidings  of  his  victories.  He  gave  a  soldier-like  account  of  hig 
actions,  frank  and  full,  without  any  feigned  modesty,  yet  with 
out  vain-glory.  "Commander  of  the  faithful,"  said  he,  "I 
bring  thee  no  silver,  nor  gold,  nor  precious  stones,  nor  captives, 
for  what  spoils  I  did  not  share  with  my  soldiers  I  gave  up  to 
Muza  as  my  commander.  How  I  have  conducted  myself  the 
honourable  warriors  of  thy  host  will  tell  thee;  nay,  let  our 


LEGEND   OF  THE  SUBJUGATION  OF  SPAIN.       H5 

enemies,  the  Christians,  be  asked  if  I  have  ever  shown  myself 
cowardly  or  cruel  or  rapacious. " 

"  What  kind  of  people  are  these  Christians?"  demanded  the 
caliph. 

"The  Spaniards,"  replied  Taric,  "are  lions  in  their  castles, 
eagles  in  their  saddles,  but  mere  women  when  on  foot.  When 
vanquished  they  escape  like  goats  to  the  mountains,  for  they 
need  not  see  the  ground  they  tread  on." 

"  And  tell  me  of  the  Moors  of  Barbary." 

' '  They  are  like  Arabs  in  the  fierceness  and  dexterity  of  their 
attacks,  and  in  their  knowledge  of  the  stratagems  of  war ;  they 
resemble  them,  too,  in  feature,  in  fortitude,  and  hospitality; 
but  they  are  the  most  perfidious  people  upon  earth,  and  never 
regard  promise  or  plighted  faith. " 

"  And  the  people  of  Afranc;  what  sayest  thou  of  them?" 

' '  They  are  infinite  in  number,  rapid  in  the  onset,  fierce  in 
battle,  but  confused  and  headlong  in  flight. " 

"And  how  fared  it  with  thee  among  these  people?  Did  they 
sometimes  vanquish  thee  ?" 

"Never,  by  Allah!"  cried  Taric,  with  honest  warmth; 
"never  did  a  banner  of  mine  fly  the  field.  Though  the  enemy 
were  two  to  one,  my  Moslems  never  shunned  the  combat !" 

The  caliph  was  well  pleased  with  the  martial  bluntness  of 
the  veteran,  and  showed  him  great  honour;  and  wherever 
Taric  appeared  he  was  the  idol  of  the  populace. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

MUZA    ARRIVES    AT    DAMASCUS— HIS    INTERVIEW    WITH     THE    CA 
LIPH—THE  TABLE  OF  SOLOMON— A  RIGOROUS  SENTENCE. 

SHORTLY  after  the  arrival  of  Taric  el  Tuerto  at  Damascus,  the 
caliph  fell  dangerously  ill,  insomuch  that  his  life  was  despaired 
of.  During  his  illness,  tidings  were  brought  that  Muza  ben 
Nosier  had  entered  Syria  with  a  vast  cavalcade,  bearing  all 
the  riches  and  trophies  gained  in  the  western  conquests.  Now 
Suleiman  ben  Abdelmelec,  brother  to  the  caliph,  was  successor 
to  the  throne,  and  he  saw  that  his  brother  had  not  long  to 
live,  and  wished  to  grace  the  commencement  of  his  reign  by 
this  triumphant  display  of  the  spoils  of  Christendom ;  he  sent 
messengers,  therefore,  to  Muza,  saying,  "The  caliph  is  ill 


116         LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

cannot  receive  thee  at  present ;  I  pray  thee  tarry  on  the  road 
until  his  recovery."  Muza,  however,  paid  no  attention  to  the 
messages  of  Suleiman,  but  rather  hastened  his  march  to  arrive 
before  the  death  of  the  caliph.  And  Suleiman  treasured  up 
his  conduct  in  his  heart. 

Muza  entered  the  city  in  a  kind  of  triumph,  with  a  long 
train  of  horses  and  mules  and  camels  laden  with  treasure, 
and  with  the  four  hundred  sons  of  Gothic  nobles  as  hostages, 
each  decorated  with  a  diadem  and  a  girdle  of  gold ;  and  with 
one  hundred  Christian  damsels,  whose  beauty  dazzled  all  be 
holders.  As  lie  passed  through  the  streets  he  ordered  purses 
of  gold  to  be  thrown  among  the  populace,  who  rent  the  air 
with  acclamations.  "Behold,"  cried  they,  "the  veritable 
conqueror  of  the  unbelievers !  Behold  the  true  model  of  a 
conqueror,  who  brings  home  wealth  to  his  conntry!"  And 
they  heaped  benedictions  on  the  head  of  Muza. 

The  Caliph  Waled  Almanzor  rose  from  his  couch  of  illness  to 
receive  the  emir ;  who,  when  he  repaired  to  the  palace,  filled 
one  of  its  great  courts  with  treasures  of  all  kinds ;  the  halls, 
too,  were  thronged  with  the  youthful  hostages,  magnificentlr 
attired,  and  with  Christian  damsels,  lovely  as  the  houries  ot 
paradise.  When  the  caliph  demanded  an  account  of  the  con 
quest  of  Spain,  he  gave  it  with  great  eloquence;  but,  in 
describing  the  various  victories,  he  made  no  mention  of  the 
name  of  Taric,  but  spoke  as  if  everything  had  been  effected  by 
himself.  He  then  presented  the  spoils  of  the  Christians  as  if 
they  had  been  all  taken  by  his  own  hands ;  and  when  he  deli 
vered  to  the  caliph  the  miraculous  table  of  Solomon,  he  dwelt 
with  animation  on  the  virtues  of  that  inestimable  talisman. 

Upon  this,  Taric,  who  was  present,  could  no  longer  hold  his 
peace.  "  Commander  of  the  faithful, "  said  he,  "examine  this 
precious  table,  if  any  part  be  wanting."  The  caliph  examined 
the  table,  which  was  composed  of  a  single  emerald,  and  he 
found  that  one  foot  was  supplied  with  a  foot  of  gold.  The 
caliph  turned  to  Muza  and  said,  ' '  Where  is  the  other  foot  of 
the  table?"  Muza  answered,  "I  know  not;  one  foot  was 
wanting  when  it  came  into  my  hands."  Upon  this,  Taric  drew 
from  beneath  his  robe  a  foot  of  emerald  of  like  workmanship 
to  the  others,  and  fitting  exactly  to  the  table.  ' '  Behold,  O  com 
mander  of  the  faithful!"  cried  he,  "a  proof  of  the  real  finder 
of  the  table;  and  so  is  it  with  the  greater  part  of  the  spoils 
exhibited  by  Muza  as  trophies  of  his  achievements.  It  was  I 
who  gained  them,  and  who  captured  the  cities  in  which  they 


LEGEND  OF  THE  SUBJUGATION  OF  SPAIN.       H7 

were  found.  If  you  want  proof,  demand  of  these  Christian 
cavaliers  here  present,  most  of  whom  I  captured ;  demand  of 
those  Moslem  warriors  who  aided  me  in  my  battles." 

Muza  was  confounded  for  a  moment,  but  attempted  to  vindi 
cate  himself.  "I  spake,"  said  he,  "as  the  chief  of  your 
armies,  under  whose  orders  and  banners  this  conquest  was 
achieved.  The  actions  of  the  soldier  are  the  actions  of  the 
commander.  In  a  great  victory  it  is  not  supposed  that  the 
chief  of  the  army  takes  all  the  captives,  or  kills  all  the  slain, 
or  gathers  all  the  booty,  though  all  are  enumerated  in  the 
records  of  his  triumph."  The  caliph,  however,  was  wroth,  and 
heeded  not  his  words.  ' '  You  have  vaunted  your  own  de 
serts,"  said  he,  "and  have  forgotten  the  deserts  of  others;  nay, 
you  have  sought  to  debase  another  who  has  loyally  served  his 
sovereign ;  the  reward  of  your  envy  and  covetousness  be  upon 
your  own  head !"  So  saying,  he  bestowed  a  great  part  of  the 
spoils  upon  Taric  and  the  other  chiefs,  but  gave  nothing  to 
Muza ;  and  the  veteran  retired  amidst  the  sneers  and  murmurs 
of  those  present. 

In  a  few  days  the  Caliph  Waled  died,  and  was  succeeded  by 
his  brother  Suleiman.  The  new  sovereign  cherished  deep  re 
sentment  against  Muza  for  having  presented  himself  at  court 
contrary  to  his  command,  and  he  listened  readily  to  the  calum 
nies  of  his  enemies;  for  Muza  had  been  too  illustrious  in  his 
deeds  not  to  have  many  enemies.  All  now  took  courage  when 
they  found  he  was  out  of  favour,  and  they  heaped  slanders  on 
his  head ;  charging  him  with  embezzling  much  of  the  share  of 
the  booty  belonging  to  the  sovereign.  The  new  caliph  lent  a 
willing  ear  to  the  accusation,  and  commanded  him  to  render 
up  all  that  he  had  pillaged  from  Spain.  The  loss  of  his  riches 
might  have  been  borne  with  fortitude  by  Muza,  but  the  stigma 
upon  his  fame  filled  his  heart  with  bitterness.  "  I  have  been  a 
faithful  servant  to  the  throne  from  my  youth  upwards,"  said 
he,  ' '  and  now  I  am  degraded  in  my  old  age.  I  care  not  for 
wealth,  I  care  not  for  life,  but  let  me  not  be  deprived  of  that 
honour  which  God  has  bestowed  upon  me !" 

The  caliph  was  still  more  exasperated  at  his  repining,  and 
stripped  him  of  his  commands;  confiscated  his  effects;  fined 
him  two  hundred  thousand  pesants  of  gold,  and  ordered  that 
he  should  be  scourged  and  exposed  to  the  noontide  sun,  and 
afterwards  thrown  into  prison.*  The  populace  also  reviled 

*  Conde,  p.  1,  c.  17. 


118          LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

and  scoffed  at  him  in  hie  misery,  and  as  they  beheld  him  led 
forth  to  the  public  gaze,  and  fainting  in  the  sun,  they  pointed 
at  him  with  derision  and  exclaimed— "  Behold  the  envious 
man  and  the  impostor ;  this  is  he  who  pretended  to  have  con< 
quered  the  land  of  the  unbelievers !" 


CHAPTER  XV. 

CONDUCT  OF  ABDALASIS  AS  EMIR  OF  SPAIN. 

WHILE  these  events  were  happening  in  Syria,  the  youthful 
Abdalasis,  the  son  of  Muza,  remained  as  emir  or  governor 
of  Spain.  He  was  of  a  generous  and  benignant  disposition, 
but  he  was  open  and  confiding,  and  easily  led  away  by  the 
opinions  of  those  he  loved.  Fortunately  his  father  had  left 
with  him,  as  a  bosom  counsellor,  the  discreet  Ayub,  the 
nephew  of  Muza ;  aided  by  his  advice,  he  for  some  time  ad 
ministered  the  public  affairs  prudently  and  prosperously. 

Not  long  after  the  departure  of  his  father,  he  received  a  let 
ter  from  him,  written  while  on  his  journey  to  Syria;  it  was  to 
the  following  purport : 

' '  Beloved  son ;  honour  of  thy  lineage ;  Allah  guard  thee 
from  all  harm  and  peril !  Listen  to  the  words  of  thy  father. 
Avoid  all  treachery  though  it  should  promise  great  advantage, 
and  trust  not  in  him  who  counsels  it,  even  though  he  should 
be  a  brother.  The  company  of  traitors  put  far  from  thee ;  for 
how  canst  thou  be  certain  that  he  who  has  proved  false  to 
others  will  prove  true  to  thee?  Beware,  O  my  son,  of  the 
seductions  of  love.  It  is  an  idle  passion  which  enfeebles  the 
heart  and  blinds  the  judgment ;  it  renders  the  mighty  weak, 
and  makes  slaves  of  princes.  If  thou  shouldst  discover  any 
foible  of  a  vicious  kind  springing  up  in  thy  nature,  pluck  it 
forth,  whatever  pang  it  cost  thee.  Every  error,  while  new, 
may  easily  be  weeded  out,  but  if  suffered  to  take  root,  it 
nourishes  and  bears  seed,  and  produces  fruit  an  hundred-fold. 
Follow  these  counsels,  O  son  of  my  affections,  and  thou  shalt 
live  secure." 

Abdalasis  meditated  upon  this  letter,  for  some  part  of  it 
seemed  to  contain  a  mystery  which  he  could  not  comprehend. 
He  called  to  him  his  cousin  and  counsellor,  the  discreet  Ayub. 


LEGEND  OF  THE  SUBJUGATION  OF  SPAIN.       119 

**  What  means  my  father,"  said  he,  "  in  cautioning  me  against 
treachery  and  treason?  Does  he  think  my  nature  so  base  that 
it  could  descend  to  such  means?" 

Ayub  read  the  letter  attentively,  "Thy  father,"  said  he, 
"would  put  thee  on  thy  guard  against  the  traitors  Julian  and 
Oppas,  and  those  of  their  party  who  surround  thee.  What 
love  canst  thou  expect  from  men  who  have  been  unnatural  to 
their  kindred,  and  what  loyalty  from  wretches  who  have  be 
trayed  their  country?" 

Abdalasis  was  satisfied  with  the  interpretation,  and  he  acted 
accordingly.  He  had  long  loathed  all  communion  with  these 
men,  for  there  is  nothing  which  the  open  ingenuous  nature  so 
much  abhors  as  duplicity  and  treason.  Policy,  too,  no  longer 
required  their  agency ;  they  had  rendered  their  infamous  ser 
vice,  and  had  no  longer  r  country  to  betray ;  but  they  might 
turn  and  betray  their  employers.  Abdalasis,  therefore,  re 
moved  them  to  a  distance  from  his  court,  and  placed  them  in 
situations  where  they  could  do  no  harm,  and  he  warned  his 
commanders  from  being  in  any  wise  influenced  by  their 
counsels,  or  aided  by  their  arms. 

He  now  confided  entirely  in  his  Arabian  troops,  and  in  the 
Moorish  squadrons  from  Africa,  and  with  their  aid  he  com 
pleted  the  conquest  of  Lusitania  to  the  ultimate  parts  of  the 
Algarbe,  or  west,  even  to  the  shores  of  the  great  Ocean  sea.* 
From  hence  he  sent  his  generals  to  overrun  all  those  vast viii'l 
rugged  sierras,  which  rise  like  ramparts  along  the  ocean  bor 
ders  of  the  peninsula ;  and  they  carried  the  standard  of  Islam 
in  triumph  even  to  the  mountains  of  Biscay,  collecting  all 
manner  of  precious  spoil. 

"  It  is  not  enough,  O  Abdalasis,"  said  Ayub,  "  that  we  con 
quer  and  rule  this-  country  with  the  sword ;  if  we  wish  our 
dominion  to  be  secure,  we  must  cultivate  the  arts  of  peace, 
and  study  to  secure  the  confidence-  and  promote  the  welfare 
of  the  people  we  have  conquered."  Abdalasis  relished  counsel 
which  accorded  so  well  with  his  own  beneficent  nature.  He 
endeavoured,  therefore,  to  allay  the  ferment  and  confusion  of 
the  conquest ;  forbade,  under  rigorous  punishment,  all  wanton 
spoil  or  oppression,  and  protected  the  native  inhabitants  in 
the  enjoyment  and  cultivation  of  their  lands,  and  the  pursuit 


*  Algarbe,  or  Algarbia,  in  Arabic  signifies  the  west,  as  Axarkia  is  the  east, 
Algufia  the  north,  and  Aquibla  the  south.  This  will  serve  to  explain  some  of  the 
geographical  names  on  the  peninsula,  which  are  of  Arabian  origin. 


120          LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

of  all  useful  occupations.  By  the  advice  of  Ayub,  also,  he 
encouraged  great  numbers  of  industrious  Moors  and  Arabs 
to  emigrate  from  Africa,  and  gave  them  houses  and  lands; 
thus  introducing  a  peaceful  Mahometan  population  into  the 
conquered  provinces. 

The  good  effect  of  the  counsels  of  Ayub  were  soon  apparent. 
Instead  of  a  sudden  but  transient  influx  of  wealth,  made  by 
the  ruin  of  the  land,  which  left  the  country  desolate,  a  regular 
and  permanent  revenue  sprang  up,  produced  by  reviving 
prosperity,  and  gathered  without  violence.  Abdalasis  ordered 
it  to  be  faithfully  collected,  and  deposited  in  coffers  by  public 
officers  appointed  in  each  province  for  the  purpose ;  and  the 
whole  was  sent  by  ten  deputies  to  Damuscus  to  be  laid  at  the 
feet  of  the  caliph ;  not  as  the  spoils  of  a  vanquished  country, 
but  as  the  peaceful  trophies  of  a  wisely  administered  govern 
ment. 

The  common  herd  of  warlike  adventurers,  the  mere  men  of 
the  sword,  who  had  thronged  to  Spain  for  the  purpose  of 
ravage  and  rapine,  were  disappointed  at  being  thus  checked  in 
their  career,  and  at  seeing  the  reign  of  terror  and  violence 
drawing  to  a  close.  What  manner  of  leader  is  this,  said  they, 
who  forbids  us  to  make  spoil  of  the  enemies  of  Islam,  and  to 
enjoy  the  land  we  have  wrested  from  the  unbelievers?  The 
partisans  of  Julian,  also,  whispered  their  calumnies.  "Be 
hold,"  said  they,  "with  what  kindness  he  treats  the  enemies 
of  your  faith ;  all  the  Christians  who  have  borne  arms  against 
you,  and  withstood  your  entrance  into  the  land,  are  favoured 
and  protected;  but  it  is  enough  for  a  Christian  to  have  be 
friended  the  cause  of  the  Moslems  to  be  singled  out  by 
Abdalasis  for  persecution,  and  to  be  driven  with  scorn  from 
his  presence. " 

These  insinuations  fermented  the  discontent  of  the  turbulent 
and  rapacious  among  the  Moslems,  but  all  the  friends  of  peace 
and  order  and  good  government  applauded  the  moderation  of 
the  youthful  emir. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

LOVES  OF  ABDALASIS  AND  EXILONA. 

ABDALASIS  had  fixed  his  seat  of  government  at  Seville,  as 
permitting  easy  and  frequent  communications  with  the  coast 


LEGEND   OF  THE  SUBJUGATION  OF  SPAIN. 

• 

of  Africa.  His  palace  was  of  noble  architecture,  with  delight 
ful  gardens  extending  to  the  banks  of  the  Guadalquivir.  In  a 
part  of  this  palace  resided  many  of  the  most  beautiful  Christian 
females,  who  were  detained  as  captives,  or  rather  hostages,  to 
insure  the  tranquillity  of  the  country.  Those  who  were  of 
noble  rank  were  entertained  in  luxury  and  magnificence; 
slaves  were  appointed  to  attend  upon  them,  and  they  were 
arrayed  in  the  richest  apparel  and  decorated  with  the  most 
precious  jewels.  Those  of  tender  age  were  taught  all  graceful 
accomplishments;  and  even  where  tasks  were  imposed,  they 
were  of  the  most  elegant  and  agreeable  kind.  They  em 
broidered,  they  sang,  they  danced,  and  passed  their  times  in 
pleasing  revelry.  Many  were  lulled  by  this  easy  and  volup 
tuous  existence ;  the  scenes  of  horror  through  which  they  had 
passed  were  gradually  effaced  from  their  minds,  and  a  desire 
was  often  awakened  of  rendering  themselves  pleasing  in  the 
eyes  of  their  conquerors. 

After  his  return  from  his  campaign  in  Lusitania,  and  during 
the  intervals  of  public  duty,  Abdalasis  solaced  himself  in  the 
repose  of  this  palace,  and  in  the  society  of  these  Christian  cap 
tives.  He  remarked  one  among  them  who  ever  sat  apart,  and 
neither  joined  in  the  labours  nor  sports  of  her  companions. 
She  was  lofty  in  her  demeanour,  and  the  others  always  paid 
her  reverence ;  yet  sorrow  had  given  a  softness  to  her  charms, 
and  rendered  her  beauty  touching  to  the  heart.  Abdalasis 
found  her  one  day  in  the  garden  with  her  companions;  they 
had  adorned  their  heads  with  flowers,  and  were  singing  the 
songs  of  their  country,  but  she  sat  by  herself  and  wept.  The 
youthful  emir  was  moved  by  her  tears,  and  accosted  her  in 
gentle  accents.  "O  fairest  of  women!"  said  he,  "why  dost 
thou  weep,  and  why  is  thy  heart  troubled?"  "Alas!"  replied 
she,  "have  I  not  cause  to  weep,  seeing  how  sad  is  my  condi 
tion,  and  how  great  the  height  from  which  I  have  fallen  ?  In 
me  you  behold  the  wretched  Exilona,  but  lately  the  wife  of 
Roderick,  and  the  queen  of  Spain,  now  a  captive  and  a  slave !" 
and,  having  said  these  words,  cast  her  eyes  upon  the  earth,  and 
her  tears  began  to  flow  afresh. 

The  generous  feelings  of  Abdalasis  were  aroused  at  the  sight 
of  beauty  and  royalty  in  tears.  He  gave  orders  that  Exilona 
should  be  entertained  in  a  style  befitting  her  former  rank;  he 
appointed  a  train  of  female  attendants  to  wait  upon  her,  and  a 
guard  of  honour  to  protect  her  from  all  intrusion.  All  the  time 
that  he  could  spare  from  public  concerns  was  passed  in  her 


122  LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

t 

society;  and  he  even  neglected  his  divan,  and  suffered  his 
counsellors  to  attend  in  vain,  while  he  lingered  in  the  apart 
ments  and  gardens  of  the  palace,  listening  to  the  voice  of 
Exilona. 

The  discreet  Ayub  saw  the  danger  into  which  he  was  falling. 
"O  Abdalasis,"  said  he,  "remember  the  words  of  thy  father. 
'Beware,  my  son,'  said  he,  'of  the  seductions  of  love.  It  ren 
ders  the  mighty  weak,  and  makes  slaves  of  princes ! '"  A  blush 
kindled  on  the  cheek  of  Abdalasis,  and  he  was  silent  for  a  mo 
ment.  "Why,"  said  he,  at  length,  "do  you  seek  to  charge  me 
with  such  weakness  ?  It  is  one  thing  to  be  infatuated  by  the 
charms  of  a  woman,  and  another  to  be  touched  by  her  misfor 
tunes.  It  is  the  duty  of  my  station  to  console  a  princess  who 
has  been  reduced  to  the  lowest  humiliation  by  the  triumphs  of 
our  arms.  In  doing  so  I  do  but  listen  to  the  dictates  of  true 
magnanimity. ' ' 

Ayub  was  silent,  but  his  brow  was  clouded,  and  for  once 
Abdalasis  parted  in  discontent  from  his  counsellor.  In  propor 
tion  as  he  was  dissatisfied  with  others  or  with  himself,  he  sought 
the  society  of  Exilona,  for  there  was  a  charm  in  her  conversa 
tion  that  banished  every  care.  He  daily  became  more  and 
more  enamoured,  and  Exilona  gradually  ceased  to  weep,  and 
began  to  listen  with  secret  pleasure  to  the  words  of  her  Arab 
lover.  When,  however,  he  sought  to  urge  his  passion,  she 
recollected  the  light  estimation  in  which  her  sex  was  held  by  the 
followers  of  Mahomet,  and  assumed  a  countenance  grave  and 
severe. 

"Fortune,"  said  she,  "has  cast  me  at  thy  feet;  behold  I  am 
thy  captive  and  thy  spoil.  But  though  my  person  is  in  thy 
power,  my  soul  is  unsubdued ;  and  know  that,  should  I  lack 
force  to  defend  my  honour,  I  have  resolution  to  wash  out  all 
stain  upon  it  with  my  blood.  I  trust,  however,  in  thy  courtesy 
as  a  cavalier  to  respect  me  in  my  reverses,  remembering  what 
I  have  been,  and  that  though  the  crown  has  been  wrested  from 
my  brow,  the  royal  blood  still  warms  within  my  veins."  * 

The  lofty  spirit  of  Exilona,  and  her  proud  repulse,  served  but 
to  increase  the  passion  of  Abdalasis.  He  besought  her  to  unite 
her  destiny  with  his,  and  share  his  state  and  power,  promising 
that  she  should  have  no  rival  nor  copartner  in  his  heart.  What 
ever  scruples  the  captive  queen  might  originally  have  felt  to  a 
union  with  one  of  the  conquerors  of  her  lord,  and  an  enemy 

*  Faxardo.  corona,  Gothica,  T.  1,  p.  492.    Joan.  Mar.  de  reb.  Hisp.  L.  6,  c,  27. 


LEGEND   OF  THE  SUBJUGATION  OF  SPAIN.       123 

of  her  adopted  faith,  they  were  easily  vanquished,  and  she  be 
came  the  bride  of  Abdalasis.  He  would  fain  have  persuaded  her 
to  return  to  the  faith  of  her  fathers ;  but  though  of  Moorish 
origin,  and  brought  up  in  the  doctrines  of  Islam,  she  was  too 
thorough  a  convert  to  Christianity  to  consent,  and  looked  back 
with  disgust  upon  a  religion  that  admitted  a  plurality  of  wives. 

When  the  sage  Ayub  heard  of  the  resolution  of  Abdalasis  to 
espouse  Exilona  he  was  in  despair.  "Alas,  my  cousin!"  said 
he,  "what  infatuation  possesses  thee  ?  Hast  thou  then  entirely 
forgotten  the  letter  of  thy  father  ?  '  Beware,  my  son,'  said  he, 
'  of  love ;  it  is  an  idle  passion,  which  enfeebles  the  heart  and 
blinds  the  judgment.'"  But  Abdalasis  interrupted  him  with 
impatience.  ' '  My  father, "  said  he,  ' '  spake  but  of  the  blandish 
ments  of  wanton  love;  against  these  I  am  secured  by  my 
virtuous  passion  for  Exilona." 

Ayub  would  fain  have  impressed  upon  him  the  dangers  he 
ran  of  awakening  suspicion  in  the  caliph,  and  discontent  among 
the  Moslems,  by  wedding  the  queen  of  the  conquered  Roderick, 
and  one  who  was  an  enemy  to  the  religion  of  Mahomet ;  but 
the  youthful  lover  only  listened  to  his  passion.  Their  nuptials 
were  celebrated  at  Seville  with  great  pomp  and  rejoicings,  and 
he  gave  his  bride  the  name  of  Omalisam ;  that  is  to  say,  she  of 
the  precious  jewels :  *  but  she  continued  to  be  known  among 
the  Christians  by  the  name  of  Exilona. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

FATE  OF  ABDALASIS  AND  EXILONA — DEATH  OF  MUZA. 

POSSESSION,  instead  of  cooling  the  passion  of  Abdalasis,  only 
added  to  its  force ;  he  became  blindly  enamoured  of  his  beau 
tiful  bride,  and  consulted  her  will  in  all  things ;  nay,  having 
lost  all  relish  for  the  advice  of  the  discreet  Ayub,  he  was  even 
guided  by  the  counsels  of  his  wife  in  the  affairs  of  government. 
Exilona,  unfortunately,  had  once  been  a  queen,  and  she  could 
not  remember  her  regal  glories  without  regret.  She  saw  that 
Abdalasis  had  great  power  in  the  land ;  greater  even  than  had 
been  possessed  by  the  Gothic  kings ;  but  she  considered  it  as 
wanting  in  true  splendour  until  his  brows  should  be  encircled 

t  Conde,  p.  1,  c.  17. 


124          LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

with  the  outward  badge  of  royalty.  One  day,  when  they  were 
alone  in  the  palace  of  Seville,  and  the  heart  of  Abdalasis  was 
given  up  to  tenderness,  she  addressed  him  in  fond  yet  timid 
accents.  "Will  not  my  lord  be  offended,"  said  she,  "  if  I  make 
an  unwelcome  request  ?"  Abdalasis  regarded  her  with  a  smile. 
"  What  canst  thou  ask  of  me,  Exilona,"  said  he,  "that  it  would 
not  be  a  happiness  for  me  to  grant  ?"  Then  Exilona  produced 
a  crown  of  gold,  sparkling  with  jewels,  which  had  belonged  to 
the  king,  Don  Eoderick,  and  said,  "Behold,  thou  art  king  in 
authority,  be  so  in  thy  outward  state.  There  is  majesty  and 
glory  in  a  crown;  it  gives  a  sanctity  to  power."  Then  putting 
the  crown  upon  his  head,  she  held  a  mirror  before  him  that  he 
might  behold  the  majesty  of  his  appearance.  Abdalasis  chid 
her  fondly,  and  put  the  crown  away  from  him,  but  Exilona 
persisted  in  her  prayer.  "  Never,"  said  she,  "  has  there  been  a 
king  in  Spain  that  did  not  wear  a  crown."  So  Abdalasis  suf 
fered  himself  to  be  beguiled  by  the  blandishments  of  his  wife, 
and  to  be  invested  with  the  crown  and  sceptre  and  other  signs 
of  royalty.* 

It  is  affirmed  by  ancient  and  discreet  chroniclers,  that  Abda 
lasis  only  assumed  this  royal  state  in  the  privacy  of  his  palace, 
and  to  gratify  the  eye  of  his  youthful  bride ;  but  where  was  a 
secret  ever  confined  within  the  walls  of  a  palace?  The  assump 
tion  of  the  insignia  of  the  ancient  Gothic  kings  was  soon  ru 
moured  about,  and  caused  the  most  violent  suspicions.  The 
Moslems  had  already  felt  jealous  of  the  ascendancy  of  this 
beautiful  woman,  and  it  was  now  confidently  asserted  that 
Abdalasis,  won  by  her  persuasions,  had  secretly  turned  Chris 
tian. 

The  enemies  of  Abdalasis,  those  whose  rapacious  spirits  had 
been  kept  in  check  by  the  beneficence  of  his  rule,  seized  upon 
this  occasion  to  ruin  him.  They  sent  letters  to  Damascus  ac 
cusing  him  of  apostasy,  and  of  an  intention  to  seize  upon  the 
throne  in  right  of  his  wife,  Exilona,  as  widow  of  the  late  King 
Roderick.  It  was  added,  that  the  Christians  were  prepared  to 
flock  to  his  standard  as  the  only  means  of  regaining  ascen 
dancy  in  their  country. 

These  accusations  arrived  at  Damascus  just  after  the  acces 
sion  of  the  sanguinary  Suleiman  to  the  throne,  and  in  the 
height  of  his  persecution  of  the  unfortunate  Muza.  The  caliph 

*  Cron.  Ren.  de  Alonzo  el  Sabio,  p.  3.  Joan.  Mar.  de  reb.  Hisp.  lib.  6,  c.  27.  Conde, 
p.  1,  c.  19. 


LEGEND   OF  T^**,  CUBJUOATION  OP  SPAIN.       125 

waited  for  no  proofs  in  confirmation;  he  immediately  sent 
private  orders  that  Abdalasis  should  be  put  to  death,  and  that 
the  same  fate  should  be  dealt  to  his  two  brothers  who  governed 
in  Africa,  as  a  sure  means  of  crushing  the  conspiracy  of  this 
ambitious  family. 

The  mandate  for  the  death  of  Abdalasis  was  sent  to  Abhilbar 
ben  Obeidah  and  Zeyd  ben  Nabegat,  both  of  whom  had  been 
cherishc  1  friends  of  Muza,  and  had  lived  in  intimate  favour 
and  companionship  with  his  son.  When  they  read  the  fatal 
parchment,  the  scroll  fell  from  their  trembling  hands.  ' '  Can 
such  hostility  exist  against  the  family  of  Muza?"  exclaimed 
they.  ' '  Is  this  the  reward  for  such  great  and  glorious  ser 
vices?"  The  cavaliers  remained  for  some  time  plunged  in 
horror  and  consternation.  The  order,  however,  was  absolute, 
and  left  them  no  discretion.  "Allah  is  great,"  said  they,  u  and 
commands  us  to  obey  our  sovereign."  So  they  prepared  to 
execute  the  bloody  mandate  with  the  blind  fidelity  of  Moslems. 

It  was  necessary  to  proceed  with  caution.  The  open  and 
magnanimous  character  of  Abdalasis  had  won  the  hearts  of  a 
great  part  of  the  soldiery,  and  his  magnificence  pleased  the 
cavaliers  who  formed  his  guard ;  it  was  feared,  therefore,  that 
a  sanguinary  opposition  would  be  made  to  any  attempt  upon 
his  person.  The  rabble,  however,  had  been  imbittered  against 
him  from  his  having  restrained  their  depredations,  and  because 
they  thought  him  an  apostate  in  his  heart,  secretly  bent  upon 
betraying  them  to  the  Christians.  While,  therefore,  the  two 
officers  made  vigilant  dispositions  to  check  any  movement  on 
the  part  of  the  soldiery,  they  let  loose  the  blind  fury  of  the 
populace  by  publishing  the  fatal  mandate.  In  a  moment  the 
city  was  in  a  ferment,  and  there  was  a  ferocious  emulation  who 
should  be  first  to  execute  the  orders  of  the  caliph. 

Abdalasis  was  at  this  time  at  a  palace  in  the  country  not  far 
from  Seville,  commanding  a  delightful  view  of  the  fertile  plain 
of  the  Guadalquivir.  Hither  he  was  accustomed  to  retire 
from  the  tumult  of  the  court,  and  to  pass  his  time  among 
groves  and  fountains  and  the  sweet  repose  of  gardens,  in  the 
society  of  Exilona.  It  was  the  dawn  of  day,  the  hour  of  early 
prayer,  when  the  furious  populace  arrived  at  this  retreat. 
Abdalasis  was  offering  up  his  orisons  in  a  small  mosque  which 
he  had  erected  for  the  use  of  the  neighbouring  peasantry. 
Exilona  was  in  a  chapel  in  the  interior  of  the  palace,  where  her 
confessor,  a  holy  friar,  was  performing  mass.  They  were  both 
surprised  at  their  devotions,  and  dragged  forth  by  the  hands 


126          LEGENDS   OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

of  the  rabble.  A  few  guards,  who  attended  at  the  palace, 
would  have  made  defence,  but  they  were  overawed  by  the 
sight  of  the  written  mandate  of  the  caliph. 

The  captives  were  borne  in  triumph  to  Seville.  All  the  be 
neficent  virtues  of  Abdalasis  were  forgotten;  nor  had  the 
charms  of  Exilona  any  effect  in  softening  the  hearts  of  the 
populace.  The  brutal  eagerness  to  shed  blood,  which  seems 
inherent  in  human  nature,  was  awakened,  and  woe  to  the  vic 
tims  when  that  eagerness  is  quickened  by  religious  hate.  The 
illustrious  couple,  adorned  with  all  the  grace  of  youth  and 
beauty,  were  hurried  to  a  scaffold  in  the  great  square  of  Se 
ville,  and  there  beheaded  amidst  the  shouts  and  execrations  of 
an  infatuated  multitude.  Their  bodies  were  left  exposed  upon 
the  ground,  and  would  have  been  devoured  by  dogs,  had  they 
not  been  gathered  at  night  by  some  friendly  hand,  and  poorly 
interred  in  one  of  the  courts  of  their  late  dwelling. 

Thus  terminated  the  loves  and  lives  of  Abdalasis  and  Exilona, 
in  the  year  of  the  incarnation  seven  hundred  and  fourteen. 
Their  names  were  held  sacred  as  martyrs  to  the  Christian 
faith ;  but  many  read  in  their  untimely  fate  a  lesson  against 
ambition  and  vain-glory;  having  sacrificed  real  power  and 
substantial  rule  to  the  glittering  bauble  of  a  crown. 

The  head  of  Abdalasis  was  embalmed  and  enclosed  in  a  cas 
ket,  and  sent  to  Syria  to  the  cruel  Suleiman.  The  messenger 
who  bore  it  overtook  the  caliph  as  he  was  performing  a  pil 
grimage  to  Mecca.  Muza  was  among  the  courtiers  in  his  train, 
having  been  released  from  prison.  On  opening  the  casket  and 
regarding  its  contents,  the  eyes  of  the  tyrant  sparkled  with 
malignant  satisfaction.  Calling  the  unhappy  father  to  his 
side:  "Muza,"  said  he,  "dost  thou  know  this  head?"  The 
veteran  recognized  the  features  of  his  beloved  son,  and  turned 
his  face  away  with  anguish.  "Yes!  well  do  I  know  it,"  re 
plied  he;  "  and  may  the  curse  of  God  light  upon  him  who  has 
destroyed  a  better  man  than  himself !" 

Without  adding  another  word,  he  retired  to  Mount  Deran, 
a  prey  to  devouring  melancholy.  He  shortly  after  received 
tidings  of  the  death  of  his  two  sons  whom  he  had  left  in  the 
government  of  western  Africa,  and  who  had  fallen  victims  to 
the  jealous  suspicions  of  the  caliph.  His  advanced  age  was 
not  proof  against  these  repeated  blows,  and  this  utter  ruin  of 
his  late  prosperous  family,  and  he  sank  into  his  grave  sorrow 
ing  and  broken-hearted. 


LEGEND   OF  THE  SUBJUGATION  OF  SPAIN.       127 

Such  was  the  lamentable  end  of  the  conqueror  of  Spain; 
whose  great  achievements  were  not  sufficient  to  atone,  in  the 
eye  of  his  sovereign,  for  a  weakness  to  which  all  men  ambi 
tious  of  renown  are  subject;  and  whose  triumphs  eventually 
brought  persecution  upon  himself,  and  untimely  death  upon 
his  children. 

Here  ends  the  legend  of  the  Subjugation  of  Spain. 


128         LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN, 


LEGEND  OF  COUNT  JULIAN  AND  HIS  FAMILYc 


IN  the  preceding  legends  is  darkly  shadowed  out  a  true  story 
of  the  woes  of  Spain.  It  is  a  story  full  of  wholesome  admoni 
tion,  rebuking  the  insolence  of  human  pride  and  the  vanity  of 
human  ambition,  and  showing  the  futility  of  all  greatness  that 
is  not  strongly  based  on  virtue.  We  have  seen,  in  brief  space 
of  time,  most  of  the  actors  in  this  historic  drama  disappearing, 
one  by  one,  from  the  scene,  and  going  down,  conqueror  and 
conquered,  to  gloomy  and  unhonoured  graves.  It  remains 
to  close  this  eventful  history  by  holding  up,  as  a  signal  warn 
ing,  the  fate  of  the  traitor  whose  perfidious  scheme  of  ven 
geance  brought  ruin  on  his  native  land. 

Many  and  various  are  the  accounts  given  in  ancient  chroni 
cles  of  the  fortunes  of  Count  Julian  and  his  family,  and  many 
are  the  traditions  on  the  subject  still  extant  among  the  popu 
lace  of  Spain,  and  perpetuated  in  those  countless  ballads  sung 
by  peasants  and  muleteers,  which  spread  a  singular  charm 
over  the  whole  of  this  romantic  land. 

He  who  has  travelled  in  Spain  in  the  true  way  in  which  the 
country  ought  to  be  travelled ;  sojourning  in  its  remote  pro 
vinces  ;  rambling  among  the  rugged  defiles  and  secluded  val 
leys  of  its  mountains ;  and  making  himself  familiar  with  the 
people  in  their  out-of-the-way  hamlets  and  rarely-visited 
neighbourhoods,  will  remember  many  a  group  of  travellers 
arid  muleteers,  gathered  of  an  evening  around  the  door  or  the 
spacious  hearth  of  a  mountain  venta,  wrapped  in  their  brown 
cloaks,  and  listening  with  grave  and  profound  attention  to  the 
long  historic  ballad  of  some  rustic  troubadour,  either  recited 
with  the  true  ore  rotundo  and  modulated  cadences  of  Spanish 
elocution,  or  chaunted  to  the  tinkling  of  a  guitar.  In  this  way 
he  may  have  heard  the  doleful  end  of  Count  Julian  and  his 
family  recounted  in  traditionary  rhymes,  that  have  been 
handed  down  from  generation  to  generation.  The  particulars, 
however,  of  the  following  wild  legend  are  chiefly  gathered 


LEO  END   OF  COUNT  JULIAN  ADD  Illti  FAMILY.  120 

from  the  writings  of  the  pseudo  Moor,  Rasis ;  how  far  they 
may  be  safely  taken  as  historic  facts  it  is  impossible  now  to 
ascertain;  we  must  content  ourselves,  therefore,  with  their 
answering  to  the  exactions  of  poetic  justice. 

As  yet  every  thing  had  prospered  with  Count  Julian.  He 
had  gratified  his  vengeance;  he  had  been  successful  in  his 
treason,  and  had  acquired  countless  riches  from  the  ruin  of  his 
country.  But  it  is  not  outward  success  that  constitutes  pros 
perity.  The  tree  flourishes  with  fruit  and  foliage  while  blast 
ed  and  withering  at  the  heart.  Wherever  he  went,  Count 
Julian  read  hatred  in  every  eye.  The  Christians  cursed  him  as 
the  cause  of  all  their  woe ;  the  Moslems  despised  and  distrusted 
him  as  a  traitor.  Men  whispered  together  as  he  approached, 
and  then  turned  away  in  scorn ;  and  mothers  snatched  away 
their  children  with  horror  if  he  offered  to  caress  them.  He 
withered  under  the  execration  of  his  fellow-men,  and  last, 
and  worst  of  all,  he  began  to  loathe  himself.  He  tried  in  vain 
to  persuade  himself  that  he  had  but  taken  a  justifiable  ven 
geance  ;  he  felt  that  no  personal  wrong  can  justify  the  crime 
of  treason  to  one's  country. 

For  a  time,  he  sought  in  luxurious  indulgence  to  soothe  or 
forget  the  miseries  of  the  mind.  He  assembled  round  him 
every  pleasure  and  gratification  that  boundless  wealth  could 
purchase,  but  all  in  vain.  He  had  no  relish  for  the  dainties  of 
his  board ;  music  had  no  charm  wherewith  to  lull  his  soul,  and 
remorse  drove  slumber  from  his  pillow.  He  sent  to  Ceuta  for 
his  wife  Frandina,  his  daughter  Florinda,  and  his  youthful  son 
Alarbot ;  hoping  in  the  bosom  of  his  family  to  find  that  sym 
pathy  and  kindness  which  he  could  no  longer  meet  with  in  the 
world.  Their  presence,  however,  brought  him  no  alleviation. 
Florinda,  the  daughter  of  his  heart,  for  whose  sake  he  had 
undertaken  this  signal  vengeance,  was  sinking  a  victim  to  its 
effects.  Wherever  she  went,  she  found  herself  a  by-word  of 
shame  and  reproach.  The  outrage  she  had  suffered  was  im 
puted  to  her  as  wantonness,  and  her  calamity  was  magnified 
into  a  crime.  The  Christians  never  mentioned  her  name  with 
out  a  curse,  and  the  Moslems,  the  gainers  by  her  misfortune, 
spake  of  her  only  by  the  appellation  of  Cava,  the  vilest  epithet 
they  could  apply  to  woman. 

But  the  opprobrium  of  the  world  was  nothing  to  the  up 
braiding  of  her  own  heart.  She  charged  herself  with  all  the 
miseries  of  these  disastrous  wars ;  the  deaths  of  so  many  gallant 
cavaliers;  the  conauest  and  Derdition  of  her  country.  The 


130         LEGENDS  OF  THE  COXtyUKST  OF  SPAIN". 

anguish  of  her  mind  preyed  upon  the  beauty  of  her  person.' 
Her  eye,  once  soft  and  tender  in  its  expression,  became  wild 
and  haggard ;  her  cheek  lost  its  bloom,  and  became  hollow  and 
pallid,  and  at  times  there  was  desperation  in  her  words. 
When  her  father  sought  to  embrace  her  she  withdrew  with 
shuddering  from  his  arms,  for  she  thought  of  his  treason  and 
the  ruin  it  had  brought  upon  Spain.  Her  wretchedness  in 
creased  after  her  return  to  her  native  country,  until  it  rose  to 
a  degree  of  frenzy.  One  day  when  she  was  walking  with  her 
parents  in  the  garden  of  their  palace,  she  entered  a  tower,  and, 
having  barred  the  door,  ascended  to  the  battlements.  From 
thence  she  called  to  them  in  piercing  accents,  expressive  of 
her  insupportable  anguish  and  desperate  determination.  "Let 
this  city,"  said  she,  "be  henceforth  called  Malacca,  in  memo 
rial  of  the  most  wretched  of  women,  who  therein  put  an  end 
to  her  days."  So  saying,  she  threw  herself  headlong  from  the 
tower  and  was  dashed  to  pieces.  The  city,  adds  the  ancient 
chronicler,  received  the  name  thus  given  it,  though  afterwards 
softened  to  Malaga,  which  it  still  retains  in  memory  of  the 
tragical  end  of  Florinda. 

The  Countess  Frandina  abandoned  this  scene  of  woe,  and 
returned  to  Ceuta,  accompanied  by  her  infant  son.  She  took 
with  her  the  remains  of  her  unfortunate  daughter,  and  gave 
them  honourable  sepulture  in  a  mausoleum  of  the  chapel  be 
longing  to  the  citadel.  Count  Julian  departed  for  Carthagena, 
where  he  remained  plunged  in  horror  at  this  doleful  event. 

About  this  time,  the  cruel  Suleiman,  having  destroyed  the 
family  of  Muza,  had  sent  an  Arab  general,  named  Alahor,  to 
succeed  Abdalasis  as  emir  or  governor  of  Spain.  The  new 
emir  was  of  a  cruel  and  suspicious  nature,  and  commenced  his 
sway  with  a  stern  severity  that  soon  made  those  under  his 
command  look  back  with  regret  to  the  easy  rule  of  Abdalasis. 
He  regarded  with  an  eye  of  distrust  the  renegado  Christians 
who  had  aided  in  the  conquest,  and  who  bore  arms  in  the  ser 
vice  of  the  Moslems ;  but  his  deepest  suspicions  fell  upon  Count 
Julian.  "  He  has  been  a  traitor  to  his  own  countrymen,"  said 
he;  "  how  can  we  be  sure  that  he  will  not  prove  traitor  to  us?" 

A  sudden  insurrection  of  the  Christians  who  had  taken  re 
fuge  in  the  Asturian  mountains,  quickened  his  suspicions,  and 
inspired  him  with  fears  of  some  dangerous  conspiracy  against 
his  power.  In  the  height  of  his  anxiety,  he  bethought  him  of 
an  Arabian  snge  named  Yuza,  who  had  accompanied  him  from 
Africa.  This  son  of  science  was  withered  in  form,  and  looked 


LEGEND   OF  COUNT  JULIAN  AND  HIS  FAMILY.  131 

as  if  he  had  outlived  the  usual  term  of  m  ^rtal  life.  In  the 
course  of  his  studies  and  travels  in  the  east,  he  had  collected 
the  knowledge  and  experience  of  ages ;  being  skilled  in  astro 
logy,  and,  it  is  said,  in  necromancy,  and  possessing  the  mar 
vellous  gift  of  prophecy  or  divination.  To  this  expounder  of 
mysteries  Alahor  applied  to  learn  whether  any  secret  treason 
menaced  his  safety. 

The  astrologer  listened  with  deep  attention,  and  overwhelm 
ing  brow,  to  all  the  surmises  and  suspicions  of  the  emir,  then 
shut  himself  up  to  consult  his  books  and  commune  with  those 
supernatural  intelligences  subservient  to  his  wisdom.  At  an 
appointed  hour  the  emir  sought  him  in  his  cell.  It  was  filled 
with  the  smoke  of  perfumes ;  squares  and  circles  and  various 
diagrams  were  described  upon  the  floor,  and  the  astrologer 
was  poring  over  a  scroll  of  parchment,  covered  with  cabalistic 
characters.  He  received  Alahor  with  a  gloomy  and  sinister 
aspect ;  pretending  to  have  discovered  fearful  portents  in  the 
heavens,  and  to  have  had  strange  dreams  and  mystic  visions. 

"O  emir,"  said  he,  "be  on  your  guard!  treason  is  around 
you  and  in  your  path ;  your  life  is  in  peril.  Beware  of  Count 
Julian  and  his  family. " 

"Enough,"  said  the  emir.  "They  shall  all  die!  Parents 
and  children— all  shall  die !" 

He  forthwith  sent  a  summons  to  Count  Julian  to  attend  him 
in  Cordova.  The  messenger  found  him  plunged  in  affliction 
for  the  recent  death  of  his  daughter.  The  count  excused  him 
self,  on  account  of  this  misfortune,  from  obeying  the  commands 
of  the  emir  in  person,  but  sent  several  of  his  adherents.  His 
hesitation,  and  the  circumstance  of  his  having  sent  his  family 
across  the  straits  to  Africa,  were  construed  by  the  jealous 
mind  of  the  emir  into  proofs  of  guilt.  He  no  longer  doubted 
his  being  concerned  in  the  recent  insurrections,  and  that  he 
had  sent  his  family  away,  preparatory  to  an  attempt,  by  force 
of  arms,  to  subvert  the  Moslem  domination.  In  his  fury  he 
put  to  death  Siseburto  and  Evan,  the  nephews  of  Bishop  Oppas 
and  sons  of  the  former  king,  Witiza,  suspecting  them  of  taking 
part  in  the  treason.  Thus  did  they  expiate  their  treachery  to 
their  country  in  the  fatal  battle  of  the  G-uadalete. 

Alahor  next  hastened  to  Carthagena  to  seize  upon  Count 
Julian.  So  rapid  were  his  movements  that  the  count  had 
barely  time  to  escape  with  fifteen  cavaliers,  with  whom  he 
took  refuge  in  the  strong  castle  of  Marcuello,  among  the  moun 
tains  of  Arragon.  The  emir,  enraged'to  be  disappointed  of  his 


132         LEGENDS  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

prey,  embarked  at  Carthagena  and  crossed  the  straits  to  Ceuta, 
to  make  captives  of  the  Countess  Frandina  and  her  son. 

The  old  chronicle  from  which  we  take  this  part  of  our  legend, 
presents  a  gloomy  picture  of  the  countess  in  the  stern  fortress 
to  which  she  had  fled  for  refuge;  a  picture  heightened  by 
supernatural  horrors.  These  latter,  the  sagacious  reader  will 
admit  or  reject  according  to  the  measure  of  his  faith  and 
judgment;  always  remembering  that  in  dark  and  eventful 
times,  like  those  in  question,  involving  the  destinies  of  nations, 
the  downfall  of  kingdoms,  and  the  crimes  of  rulers  and  mighty 
men,  the  hand  of  fate  is  sometimes  strangely  visible,  and  con 
founds  the  wisdomtof  the  worldly  wise,  by  intimations  and 
portents  above  the  ordinary  course  of  things.  With  this  pro 
viso,  we  make  no  scruple  to  follow  the  venerable  chronicler  in 
his  narration. 

Now  so  it  happened,  that  the  Countess  Frandina  was  seated 
late  at  night  in  her  chamber  in  the  citadel  of  Ceuta,  whicl: 
stands  on  a  lofty  rock,  overlooking  the  sea.  She  was  revolv 
ing  in  gloomy  thought  the  late  disasters  of  her  family,  when 
she  heard  a  mournful  noise  like  that  of  the  sea  breeze  moan 
ing  about  the  castle  walls.  Eaising  her  eyes,  she  beheld  her 
brother,  the  Bishop  Oppas,  at  the  entrance  of  the  chamber. 
She  advanced  to  embrace  him,  but  he  forbade  her  with  a 
motion  of  his  hand,  and  she  observed  that  he  was  ghastly 
pale,  and  that  his  eyes  glared  as  with  lambent  flames. 

"Touch  me  not,  sister,"  said  he,  with  a  mournful  voice,  "lest 
thou  be  consumed  by  the  fire  which  rages  within  me.  Guard 
well  thy  son,  for  blood-hounds  are  upon  his  track.  His  inno 
cence  might  have  secured  him  the  protection  of  Heaven,  but 
our  crimes  have  involved  him  in  our  common  ruin."  He 
ceased  to  speak  and  was  no  longer  to  be  seen.  His  coming 
and  going  were  alike  without  noise,  and  the  door  of  the  cham 
ber  remained  fast  bolted. 

On  the  following  morning  a  messenger  arrived  with  tidings 
that  the  Bishop  Oppas  had  been  made  prisoner  in  battle  by  the 
insurgent  Christians  of  the  Asturias,  arid  had  died  in  fetters  in 
a  tower  of  the  mountains.  The  same  messenger  brought  word 
that  the  j&nir  Alahor  had  put  to  death  several  of  the  friends  of 
Count  Julian;  had  obliged  him  to  fly  for  his  life  to  a  castle  in 
Arragon,  and  was  embarking  with  a  formidable  force  for  Ceuta. 

The  Countess  Frandina,  as  has  already  been  shown,  was  of 
courageous  heart,  and  danger  made  her  desperate.  There  were 
fifty  Moorish  soldiers  in  the  garrison;  she  feared  that  they 


LEGEND  OF  COUNT  JULIAN  AND  HIS  FAMILY.  133 

would  prove  treacherous,  and  take  part  with  their  country 
men.  Summoning  her  officers,  therefore,  she  informed  them 
of  their  danger,  and  commanded  them  to  put  those  Moors  to 
death.  The  guards  sallied  forth  to  obey  her  orders.  Thirty- 
five  of  the  Moors  were  in  the  great  square,  unsuspicious  of  any 
danger,  when  they  were  severally  singled  out  by  their  execu^ 
tioners,  and,  at  a  concerted  signal,  killed  on  the  spot.  The 
remaining  fifteen  took  refuge  in  a  tower.  They  saw  the  arma^ 
da  of  the  emir  at  a  distance,  and  hoped  to  be  able  to  hold  out 
until  its  arrival.  The  soldiers  of  the  countess  saw  it  also,  and 
made  extraordinary  efforts  to  destroy  these  internal  enemies 
before  they  should  be  attacked  from  without.  They  made 
repeated  attempts  to  storm  the  tower,  but  were  as  often  re 
pulsed  with  severe  loss.  They  then  undermined  it,  supporting 
its  foundations  by  stanchions  of  wood.  To  these  they  set  fire 
and  withdrew  to  a  distance,  keeping  up  a  constant  shower  of 
missiles  to  prevent  the  Moors  from  sallying  forth  to  extinguish 
the  flames.  The  stanchions  were  rapidly  consumed,  and  when 
they  gave  way  the  tower  fell  to  the  ground.  Some  of  the 
Moors  were  crushed  among  the  ruins;  others  were  flung  to  a 
distance  and  dashed  among  the  rocks;  those  who  survived 
were  instantly  put  to  the  sword. 

The  fleet  of  the  emir  arrived  at  Ceuta  about  the  hour  of  ves 
pers.  He  landed,  but  found  the  gates  closed  against  him.  The 
countess  herself  spoke  to  him  from  a  tower,  and  set  him  at 
defiance.  The  emir  immediately  laid  siege  to  the  city.  He 
consulted  the  astrologer  Yuza,  who  told  him  that  for  seven 
days  his  star  would  have  the  ascendant  over  that  of  the  youth 
Alarbot,  but  after  that  time  the  youth  would  be  safe  from  his 
power,  and  would  effect  his  ruin. 

Alahor  immediately  ordered  the  city  to  be  assailed  on  every 
side,  and  at  length  carried  it  by  storm.  The  countess  took 
refuge  with  her  forces  in  the  citadel,  and  made  desperate  de 
fence  ;  but  the  walls  were  sapped  and  mined,  and  she  saw  that 
all  resistance  would  soon  be  unavailing.  Her  only  thoughts 
now  were  to  conceal  her  child.  "Surely,"  said  she,  "they 
will  not  think  of  seeking  him  among  the  dead."  She  led  him 
therefore  into  the  dark  and  dismal  chapel.  "Thou  art  not 
afraid  to  be  alone  in  this  darkness,  my  child?"  said  she. 

"No,  mother,"  replied  the  boy;  "darkness  gives  silence  and 
sleep."  She  conducted  him  to  the  tomb  of  Florinda.  "  Fearest 
thou  the  dead,  my  child?"  "No,  mother;  the  dead  can  do  no 
harm,  ancl  what  should  I  fear  from  my  sister?" 


134          LEGENDS   OF  THE  CONOUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

The  countess  opened  the  sepulchre.  "  Listen,  my  son,"  said 
she.  u  There  are  fierce  and  cru^l  people  who  have  come  hither 
to  murder  thee.  Stay  here  in  company  with  thy  sister,  and 
be  quiet  as  thou  dost  value  thy  life !"  The  boy,  who  was  of  a 
courageous  nature,  did  as  he  was  bidden,  and  remained  there 
all  that  day,  and  all  the  night,  and  the  next  day  until  the 
third  hour. 

In  the  meantime  the  walls  of  the  citadel  were  sapped,  the 
troops  of  the  emir  poured  in  at  the  breach,  and  a  great  part 
of  the  garrison  was  put  to  the  sword.  The  countess  was  taken 
prisoner  and  brought  before  the  emir.  She  appeared  in  his 
presence  with  a  haughty  demeanour,  as  if  she  had  been  a 
queen  receiving  homage ;  but  when  he  demanded  her  son,  she 
faltered  and  turned  pale,  and  replied,  "My  son  is  with  the 
dead." 

"Countess,"  said  the  emir,  "lam  not  to  be  deceived;  tell 
me  where  you  have  concealed  the  boy,  or  tortures  shall  wring 
from  you  the  secret." 

"Emir,"  replied  the  countess,  "may  the  greatest  torments 
be  my  portion,  both  here  and  hereafter,  if  what  I  speak  be  not 
the  truth.  My  darling  child  lies  buried  with  the  dead." 

The  emir  was  confounded  by  the  solemnity  of  her  words; 
but  the  withered  astrologer  Yuza,  who  stood  by  his  side  re 
garding  the  countess  from  beneath  his  bushed  eyebrows,  per 
ceived  trouble  in  her  countenance  and  equivocation  in  her 
words.  "Leave  this  matter  to  me,"  whispered  he  to  Alahor. 
"  I  will  produce  the  child." 

He  ordered  strict  search  to  be  made  by  the  soldiery,  and 
he  obliged  the  countess  to  be  always  present.  When  they 
came  to  the  chapel,  her  cheek  turned  pale  and  her  lip  quivered. 
"This,"  said  the  subtile  astrologer,  "is  the  place  of  conceal 
ment!" 

The  search  throughout  the  chapel,  however,  was  equally 
vain,  and  the  soldiers  were  about  to  depart,  when  Yuza  re 
marked  a  slight  gleam  of  joy  in  the  eye  of  the  countess.  "We 
are  leaving  our  prey  behind,"  thought  he;  "the  countess  is 
exulting." 

He  now  called  to  mind  the  words  of  her  asseveration,  that 
her  child  was  with  the  dead.  Turning  suddenly  to  the  soldiers 
he  ordered  them  to  search  the  sepulchres.  "If  you  find  him 
not, "  said  he,  ' '  drag  forth  the  bones  of  that  wanton  Cava, 
that  they  may  b§  burnt,  ancl  the  ashes  scattered  to  the 
winds," 


LEGEND   OF  COUNT  JULIAN  AND  HIS  FAMILY.  135 

The  soldiers  searched  among  the  tombs  and  found  that  of 
Florinda  partly  open.  Within  lay  the  boy  in  the  sound  sleep 
of  childhood,  and  one  of  the  solders  too1?:  him  gently  in  his 
arms  to  bear  him  to  the  emir. 

When  the  countess  beheld  that  her  child  was  discovered,  she 
rushed  into  the  presence  of  Alahor,  and,  forgetting  all  her 
pride,  threw  herself  upon  her  knees  before  him. 

"Mercy!  mercy!"  cried  she  in  piercing  accents,  "mercy  on 
my  son — my  only  child !  O  emir !  listen  to  a  mother's  prayer, 
and  my  lips  shall  kiss  thy  feet.  As  thou  art  merciful  to  him, 
so  may  the  most  high  God  have  mercy  upon  thee,  and  heap 
blessings  on  thy  head." 

"Bear  that  frantic  woman  hence,"  said  the  emir,  "but 
guard  her  well." 

The  countess  was  dragged  away  by  the  soldiery  without  re 
gard  to  her  struggles  and  her  cries,  and  confined  in  a  dungeon 
of  the  citadal. 

The  child  was  now  brought  to  the  emir.  He  had  been 
awakened  by  the  tumult,  but  gazed  fearlessly  on  the  stern 
countenances  of  the  soldiers.  Had  the  heart  of  the  emir  been 
capable  of  pity,  it  would  have  been  touched  by  the  tender  youth 
and  innocent  beauty  of  the  child;  but  his  heart  was  as  the 
nether  millstone,  and  he  was  bent  upon  the  destruction  of  the 
whole  family  of  Julian.  Calling  to  him  the  astrologer,  he  gave 
the  child  into  his  charge  with  a  secret  command.  The  withered 
son  of  the  desert  took  the  boy  by  the  hand,  and  led  him  up 
the  winding  staircase  of  a  tower.  When  they  reached  the 
summit  Yuza  placed  him  on  the  battlements. 

"  Cling  not  to  me,  my  child,"  said  he;  "there  is  no  danger." 

"Father,  I  fear  not,"  said  the  undaunted  boy ;  "yet  it  is  a 
wondrous  height !" 

The  child  looked  around  with  delighted  eyes.  The  breeze 
blew  his  curling  locks  from  about  his  face,  and  his  cheek 
glowed  at  the  boundless  prospect ;  for  the  tower  was  reared 
upon  that  lofty  promontory  on  which  Hercules  founded  one  of 
his  pillars.  The  surges  of  the  sea  were  heard  far  below,  beat 
ing  upon  the  rocks,  the  sea-gull  screamed  and  wheeled  about 
the  foundations  of  the  tower,  and  the  sails  of  lofty  caraccas 
were  as  mere  specks  on  the  bosom  of  the  deep. 

"  Dost  thou  know  yonder  land  beyond  the  blue  water?"  said 
Yuza. 

"It  is  Spain,"  replied  the  boy;  "  it  is  the  land  of  my  fa,ther 
and  my  mother." 


LEGENDS  OP  THE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

"Then  stretch  forth  thy  hands  and  bless  it,  my  child,  '  said 
the  astrologer. 

The  boy  let  go  his  hold  of  the  wall,  and,  as  he  stretched  forth 
his  hands,  the  aged  son  of  Ishmael,  exerting  all  the  strength  of 
his  withered  limbs,  suddenly  pushed  him  over  the  battlements. 
He  fell  headlong  from  the  top  of  that  tall  tower,  and  not  a 
bone  in  his  tender  frame  but  was  crushed  upon  the  rocks 
beneath. 

Alalior  came  to  the  foot  of  the  winding  stair. 

"  Is  the  boy  safe?"  cried  he. 

"He  is  safe,"  replied  Yuza;  "come  and  behold  the  truth 
with  thine  own  eyes." 

The  emir  ascended  the  tower  and  looked  over  the  battle 
ments,  and  beheld  the  body  of  the  child,  a  shapeless  mass,  on 
the  rocks  far  below,  and  the  sea-gulls  hovering  about ;  and  he 
gave  orders  that  it  should  be  thrown  into  the  sea,  which  was 
done. 

On  the  following  morning,  the  countess  was  led  forth  from 
her  dungeon  into  the  public  square.  She  knew  of  the  death  of 
her  child,  and  that  her  own  death  was  at  hand,  but  she  neither 
wept  nor  supplicated.  Her  hair  was  dishevelled,  her  eyes  were 
haggard  with  watching,  and  her  cheek  was  as  the  monumental 
stone,  but  there  were  the  remains  of  commanding  beauty  in 
her  countenance,  and  the  majesty  of  her  presence  awed  even 
the  rabble  into  respect. 

A  multitude  of  Christian  prisoners  were  then  brought  forth ; 
and  Alahor  cried  out — "Behold  the  wife  of  Count  Julian;  be 
hold  one  of  that  traitoi*ous  family  which  has  brought  ruin 
upon  yourselves  and  upon  your  country."  And  he  ordered 
that  they  should  stone  her  to  death.  But  the  Christians  drew 
back  with  horror  from  the  deed,  and  said — "In  the  hand  of 
God  is  vengeance;  let  not  her  blood  be  upon  our  heads."  Upon 
this  the  emir  swore  with  horrid  imprecations  that  whoever  of 
the  captives  refused  should  himself  be  stoned  to  death.  So  the 
cruel  order  was  executed,  and  the  Countess  Frandina  perished 
by  the  hands  of  her  countrymen.  Having  thus  accomplished 
his  barbarous  errand,  the  emir  embarked  for  Spain,  and  or 
dered  the  citadel  of  Ceuta  to  be  set  on  fire,  and  crossed  the 
straits  at  night  by  the  light  of  its  towering  flames. 

The  death  of  Count  Julian,  which  took  place  not  long  after, 
closed  the  tragic  story  of  his  family.  How  he  died  remains  in 
volved  in  doubt.  Some  assert  that  the  cruel  Alahor  pursued 
him  to  his  retreat  among  the  mountains,  and,  having  taken 


LEGEND   OF  COUNT  JULIAN  AND  HIS  FAMILY.  137 

him  prisoner,  beheaded  him;  others  that  the  Moors  confined 
him  in  a  dungeon,  and  put  an  end  to  his  life  with  lingering 
torments ;  while  others  affirm  that  the  tower  of  the  castle  of 
Marcuello,  near  Huesca,  in  Arragon,  in  which  he  took  refuge, 
fell  on  him  and  crushed  him  to  pieces.  All  agree  that  his  lat 
ter  end  was  miserable  in  the  extreme,  and  his  death  violent. 
The  curse  of  heaven,  which  had  thus  pursued  him  to  the  grave, 
was  extended  to  the  very  place  which  had  given  him  shelter ; 
for  we  are  told  that  the  castle  is  no  longer  inhabited  on  ac 
count  of  the  strange  and  horrible  noises  that  are  heard  in  it ; 
and  that  visions  of  armed  men  are  seen  above  it  in  the  air ; 
which  are  supposed  to  be  the  troubled  spirits  of  the  apostate 
Christians  who  favoured  the  cause  of  the  traitor. 

In  after-times  a  stone  sepulchre  was  shown,  outside  of  the 
chapel  of  the  castle,  as  the  tomb  of  Count  Julian;  but  the 
traveller  and  the  pilgrim  avoided  it,  or  bestowed  upon  it  a 
malediction ;  and  the  name  of  Julian  has  remained  a  by- word 
and  a  scorn  in  the  land  for  the  warning  of  all  generations. 
Such  ever  be  the  lot  of  him  who  betrays  his  country. 

Here  end  the  legends  of  the  Conquest  of  Spain. 

Written  in  the  Alhambra,  June  10, 1829. 


NOTE  TO  THE  PRECEDING  LEGEND. 

EL  licenciado  Arde  vines  (Lib.  2,  c.  8)  dize  que  dichos 
Duendos  caseros,  o  los  del  aire,  hazen  aparacer  exercitos  y 
peleas,  como  lo  que  se  cuenta  por  tradicion  (y  aim  algunos  per- 
sonas  lo  deponen  como  testigos  de  vista)  de  la  torre  y  castello 
de  Marcuello,  lugar  al  pie  de  las  montanas  de  Aragon  (aora  in 
habitable,  por  las  grandes  y  espantables  ruidos,  que  en  el  se 
oyen)  donde  se  retraxo  el  Conde  Don  Julian,  causa  de  la  per- 
dicion  de  Espafia ;  sobre  el  qual  castillo,  deze  se  ven  en  el  aire 
ciertas  visiones,  como  de  soldados,  que  el  vulgo  dize  son  los 
cavalleros  y  gente  que  le  favorecian. 

Vide  "el  Ente  Dislucidado, "  por  Fray  Antonio  de  Fuentala> 
pena  Capuchin.  Seccion  3,  Subseccion  5,  Instancia  8,  Num.  644. 

As  readers  unversed  in  the  Spanish  language  may  wish  to 
know  the  testimony  of  the  worthy  and  discreet  Capuchin  friar, 
Antonio  de  Fuentalapeila,  we  subjoin  a  translation  of  it: — 

"  The  licentiate  Ardevines  (Book  II.,  chap.  8)  says,  that  the 


138         LEGENDS  OF  TIIE  CONQUEST  OF  SPAIN. 

said  house-fairies,  (or  familiar  spirits,)  or  those  of  the  air 
cause  the  apparitions  of  armies  and  battles;  such  as  those 
which  are  related  in  tradition,  (and  some  persons  even  depose 
to  the  truth  of  them  as  eye-witnesses,)  of  the  town  and  castle 
of  Marcuello,  a  fortress  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains  of  Ar- 
ragon,  (at  present  uninhabitable,  on  account  of  the  sreat  and 
frightful  noises  heard  in  it,)  the  place  of  retreat  of  Count  Don 
Julian,  the  cause  of  the  perdition  of  Spain.  It  is  said  that  cer 
tain  apparitions  of  soldiers  are  seen  in  the  air,  which  the  vul 
gar^  say  are  those  of  the  courtiers  and  the  people  who  aided 


SPANISH 


VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY, 


BT 


WASHINGTON    IRVING. 


CHICAGO,    NEW  YORK,    AND   SAN   FRANCISCO: 

BELFORD,    CLARKE   &  CO., 

PUBLISHERS, 


nTTEODUOTIOK 


THE  first  discovery  of  the  western  hemisphere  has  already 
been  related  by  the  author  in  his  History  of  Columbus.  It  is 
proposed  by  him,  in  the  present  work,  to  narrate  the  enterprises 
of  certain  of  the  companions  and  disciples  of  the  admiral,  who, 
enkindled  by  his  zeal,  and  instructed  by  his  example,  sallied 
forth  separately  in  the  vast  region  of  adventure  to  which  he 
had  led  the  way.  Many  of  them  sought  merely  to  skirt  the 
continent  which  he  had  partially  visited,  and  to  secure  the  first 
fruits  of  the  pearl  fisheries  of  Paria  and  Cubaga,  or  to  explore 
the  coast  of  Veragua,  which  he  had  represented  as  the  Aurea 
Chersonesus  of  the  Ancients.  Others  aspired  to  accomplish  a 
grand  discovery  which  he  had  meditated  toward  the  close  of 
his  career.  In  the  course  of  his  expeditions  along  the  coast  of 
Terra  Firma,  Columbus  had  repeatedly  received  information 
of  the  existence  of  a  vast  sea  to  the  south.  He  supposed  it  to 
be  the  great  Indian  Ocean,  the  region  of  the  Oriental  spice 
islands,  and  that  it  must  communicate  by  a  strait  with  the  Ca 
ribbean  Sea.  His  last  and  most  disastrous  voyage  was  made 
for  the  express  purpose  of  discovering  that  imaginary  strait, 
and  making  his  way  into  this  Southern  Ocean.  The  illustrious 
navigator,  however,  was  doomed  to  die,  as  it  were,  upon  the 
threshold  of  his  discoveries.  It  was  reserved  for  one  of  his  fol 
lowers,  Vasco  Nunez  de  Balboa,  to  obtain  the  first  view  of  the 
promised  ocean,  from  the  lofty  mountains  of  Darien,  some 
years  after  the  eyes  of  the  venerable  admiral  had  been  closed 
in  death. 

The  expeditions  herein  narrated,  therefore,  may  be  considered 
as  springing  immediately  out  of  the  voyages  of  Columbus,  and 
fulfilling  some  of  his  grand  designs.  They  may  be  compared 
to  the  attempts  of  adventurous  knights  errant  to  achieve  the 
enterprise  left  unfinished  by  some  illustrious  predecessor. 
Neither  is  this  comparison  entirely  fanciful.  Qii  the  contrary, 


6  SPANISH   VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

it  is  a  curious  fact,  well  worthy  of  notice,  that  the  spirit  of 
chivalry  entered  largely  into  the  early  expeditions  of  the  Span 
ish  discoverers,  giving  them,  a  character  wholly  distinct  from 
similar  enterprises  undertaken  by  other  nations.  It  will  not, 
perhaps,  be  considered  far  sought,  if  we  trace  the  cause  of  this 
peculiarity  to  the  domestic  history  of  the  Spaniards  during  the 
middle  ages. 

Eight  centuries  of  incessant  warfare  with  the  Moorish  usurp 
ers  of  the  peninsula  produced  a  deep  and  lasting  effect  upon  the 
Spanish  character  and  manners.  The  war  being  ever  close  at 
home,  mingled  itself  with  the  domestic  habits  and  concerns  of 
the  Spaniard.  He  was  born  a  soldier.  The  wild  and  predatory 
nature  of  the  war,  also,  made  him  a  kind  of  chivalrous  marauder. 
His  horse  and  weapon  were  always  ready  for  the  field.  His 
delight  was  in  roving  incursions  and  extravagant  exploits,  and 
no  gain  was  so  glorious  in  his  eyes  as  the  cavalgada  of  spoils 
and  captives,  driven  home  in  triumph  from  a  plundered  prov 
ince.  Religion,  which  has  ever  held  great  empire  in  the  Span 
ish  mind,  lent  its  aid  to  sanctify  these  roving  and  ravaging  pro 
pensities,  and  the  Castilian  cavalier,  as  he  sacked  the  towns 
and  laid  waste  the  fields  of  his  Moslem  neighbour,  piously  be 
lieved  he  was  doing  God  service. 

The  conquest  of  Granada  put  an  end  to  the  peninsula  wars 
between  Christian  and  infidel;  the  spirit  of  Spanish  chivalry 
was  thus  suddenly  deprived  of  its  wonted  sphere  of  action ;  but 
it  had  been  too  long  fostered  and  excited  to  be  as  suddenly  ap 
peased.  The  youth  of  the  nation,  bred  up  to  daring  adventure 
and  heroic  achievement,  could  not  brook  the  tranquil  and  regu 
lar  pursuits  of  common  life,  but  panted  for  some  new  field  of 
romantic  enterprise. 

It  was  at  this  juncture  that  the  grand  project  of  Columbus 
was  carried  into  effect.  His  treaty  with  the  sovereigns  was,  in 
a  manner,  signed  with  the  same  pen  that  had  subscribed  the 
capitulation  of  the  Moorish  capital,  and  his  first  expedition  may 
almost  be  said  to  have  departed  from  beneath  the  walls  of  Gra 
nada.  Many  of  the  youthful  cavaliers  who  had  fleshed  their 
swords  in  that  memorable  war,  crowded  the  ships  of  the  dis 
coverers,  thinking  a  new  career  of  arms  was  to  be  opened  to  them. 
— a  kind  of  crusade  into  splendid  and  unknown  regions  of  infi 
dels.  The  very  weapons  and  armour  that  had  been  used  against 
the  Moors  were  drawn  from  the  arsenals  to  equip  the  discover 
ers,  and  some  of  the  most  noted  of  the  early  commanders  in  the 
new  world  will  be  found  to  have  made  their  first  essay  in  anns 


INTRODUCTION.  7 

under  the  banner  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  in  their  romantic 
campaigns  among  the  mountains  of  Andalusia. 

To  these  circumstances  may,  in  a  great  measure,  be  ascribed 
that  swelling  chivalrous  spirit  which  will  be  found  continually 
mingling,  or  rather  warring,  with  the  technical  habits  of  the 
seamen,  and  the  sordid  schemes  of  the  mercenary  adventurer ; 
in  these  early  Spanish  discoveries,  chivalry  had  left  the  land 
and  launched  upon  the  deep.  The  Spanish  cavalier  had  em 
barked  in  the  Caraval  of  the  discoverer ;  he  carried  among  the 
trackless  wildernesses  of  the  new  world,  the  same  contempt  of 
danger  and  fortitude  under  suffering,  the  same  restless  roaming 
spirit,  the  same  passion  for  inroad  and  ravage,  and  vain-glori 
ous  exploit,  and  the  same  fervent,  and  often  bigoted,  zeal  for 
the  propagation  of  his  faith  that  had  distinguished  him  during 
his  warfare  with  the  Moors.  Instances  in  point  will  be  found 
in  the  extravagant  career  of  the  daring  Ojeda,  particularly  in 
his  adventures  along  the  coast  of  Terra  Firma  and  the  wild 
shores  of  Cuba.  In  the  sad  story  of  the  ' '  unfortunate  Nicuesa ;" 
graced  as  it  is  with  occasional  touches  of  high-bred  courtesy ; 
in  the  singular  cruise  of  that  brave,  but  credulous,  old  cavalier, 
Juan  Ponce  de  Leon,  who  fell  upon  the  flowery  coast  of  Florida, 
in  his  search  after  an  imaginary  fountain  of  youth ;  and  above 
all  in  the  chequered  fortunes  of  Vasco  Nunez  de  Balboa,  whose 
discovery  of  the  Pacific  ocean,  forms  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
and  striking  incidents  in  the  history  of  the  new  world,  and 
whose  fate  might  furnish  a  theme  of  wonderful  interest  for  a 
poem  or  a  drama. 

The  extraordinary  actions  and  adventures  of  these  men, 
while  they  rival  the  exploits  recorded  in  chivalric  tale,  have 
the  additional  interest  of  verity.  They  leave  us  in  admiration 
of  the  bold  arid  heroic  qualities  inherent  in  the  Spanish  char 
acter,  which  led  that  nation  to  so  high  a  pitch  of  power  and 
glory,  and  which  are  still  discernible  in  the  great  mass  of  that 
gallant  people,  by  those  who  have  an  opportunity  of  judging 
of  them  rightly. 

Before  concluding  these  prefatory  remarks,  the  author 
would  acknowledge  how  much  he  has  been  indebted  to  the 
third  volume  of  the  invaluable  Historical  collection  of  Don 
Martin  Fernandez  de  Navarrete,  wherein  he  has  exhibited  his 
usual  industry,  accuracy,  and  critical  acumen.  He  has  like 
wise  profited  greatly  by  the  second  volume  of  Oviedo's  general 
history,  which  only  exists  in  manuscript,  and  a  copy  of  which 
lie  found  in  the  Columbian  library  of  the  Cathedral  of  Seville, 


8  SPANISH   VOYAGES  OF  DISCO  VKRY. 

He  has  had  some  assistance  also  from  the  documents  of  the 
law-case  between  Don  Diego  Columbus  and  the  Crown,  which 
exist  in  the  archives  of  the  Indies ;  and  for  an  inspection  of 
which  he  is  much  indebted  to  the  permission  of  the  Spanish 
Government  and  the  kind  attentions  of  Don  Josef  de  La  Hi- 
guera  Lara,  the  keeper  of  the  archives.  These,  with  the  his 
torical  works  of  Las  Casas,  Herrera,  G-omera,  and  Peter  Martyr, 
have  been  his  authorities  for  the  facts  contained  in  the  follow 
ing  work ;  though  he  has  not  thought  proper  to  refer  to  them 
continually  at  the  bottom  of  his  page. 

While  his  work  was  going  through  the  press  he  received  a 
volume  of  Spanish  Biography,  written  with  great  elegance  and 
accuracy,  by  Don  Manuel  Josef  Quintana,  and  containing  a 
life  of  Vasco  Nunez  de  Balboa.  He  was  gratified  to  find  that 
his  arrangement  of  facts  was  generally  corroborated  by  this 
work;  though  he  was  enabled  to  correct  his  dates  in  several 
instances,  and  to  make  a  few  other  emendations  from  the  vol 
ume  of  Seilor  Quintana,  whose  position  in  Spain  gave  him  the 
means  of  attaining  superior  'xxactness  en  these  points. 


VOYAGES  AND   DISCOVERIES 

OF  THE 

COMPANIONS   OF   COLUMBUS. 


To  declare  my  opinion  herein,  whatsoever  hath  heretofore  been  discovered  by 
the  famous  travayles  of  Saturnus  and  Hercules,  with  such  other  whom  the  An- 
tiquitie  for  their  heroical  acts  honoured  as  gods,  seemeth  but  little  and  obscure,  if 
it  be  compared  to  the  victorious  labors  of  the  Spanyards.— P.  Martyr,  Decad.  III.  c. 
4.  Lock's  translation 


ALONZO  DE  OJEDA.* 

HIS  FIRST  VOYAGE,  IN  WHICH  HE  WAS  ACCOMPANIED  BY 
AMERIGO  VESPUCCI.* 


CHAPTER  I. 

SOME    ACCOUNT    OF    OJEDA — OF   JUAN   DE   LA  COSA — OF   AMERIGO 
VESPUCCI — PREPARATIONS  FOR  THE  VOYAGE.— (1499.) 

THOSE  who  have  read  the  History  of  Columbus  will,  doubt 
less,  remember  the  character  and  exploits  of  Alonzo  de  Ojeda ; 
as  some  of  the  readers  of  the  following  pages,  however,  may 
not  have  perused  that  work,  and  as  it  is  proposed  at  present  to 
trace  the  subsequent  fortunes  of  this  youthful  adventurer,  a 
brief  sketch  of  him  may  not  be  deemed  superfluous. 

Alonzo  de  Ojeda  was  a  native  of  Cuenca,  in  New  Castile, 
and  of  a  respectable  family.  He  was  brought  up  as  a  page  or 
esquire,  in  the  service  of  Don  Luis  de  Cerda,  Duke  of  Medina 
Celi,  one  of  the  most  powerful  nobles  of  Spain ;  the  same  who 
for  some  time  patronised  Columbus  during  his  application  to 
the  Spanish  court.! 

*  Ojeda  is  pronounced  in  Spanish  Oheda,  with  a  strong  aspiration  of  the  h. 

t  Vespucci,  Vespuchy. 

$  Varoiies  Ilustres,  por  F.  Pizarro  y  Orellana,  p.  41.     Las  Casas,  Hist.  Ind.  1  i.  c.  82, 


10  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OP  DISCOVERY. 

In  those  warlike  days,  when  the  peninsula  was  distracted  by 
contests  between  the  Christian  kingdoms,  by  feuds  between  the 
nobles  and  the  crown,  and  by  the  incessant  and  marauding 
warfare  with  the  Moors,  the  household  of  a  Spanish  nobleman 
was  a  complete  school  of  arms,  where  the  youth  of  the  country 
were  sent  to  be  trained  up  in  all  kinds  of  hardy  exercises,  and 
to  be  led  to  battle  under  an  illustrious  banner.  Such  was  es 
pecially  the  case  with  the  service  of  the  Duke  of  Medina  Celi, 
who  possessed  princely  domains,  whose  household  was  a  petty 
court,  who  led  legions  of  armod  retainers  to  the  field,  and  who 
appeared  in  splendid  state  and  with  an  immense  retinue,  more 
as  an  ally  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  than  as  a  subject.  He 
engaged  in  many  of  the  roughest  expeditions  of  the  mem 
orable  war  of  Granada,  always  insisting  on  leading  his  own 
troops  in  person,  when  the  service  was  of  peculiar  difficulty 
and  danger.  Alonzo  de  Ojeda  was  formed  to  signalize  himself 
in  such  a  school.  Though  small  of  stature,  he  was  well  made, 
and  of  wonderful  force  and  activity,  with  a  towering  spirit 
and  a  daring  eye  that  seemed  to  make  up  for  deficiency  of 
height.  He  was  a  bold  and  graceful  horseman,  an  excellent 
foot  soldier,  dexterous  with  every  weapon,  and  noted  for  his 
extraordinary  skill  and  adroitness  in  all  feats  of  strength  and 
agility. 

He  must  have  been  quite  young  when  he  followed  the  duke 
of  Medina  Celi,  as  page,  to  the  Moorish  wars ;  for  he  was  but 
about  twenty-one  years  of  age  when  he  accompanied  Colum 
bus  in  his  second  voyage;  he  had  already,  however,  distin 
guished  himself  by  his  enterprising  spirit  and  headlong  valour ; 
and  his  exploits  during  that  voyage  contributed  to  enhance  his 
reputation.  He  returned  to  Spain  with  Columbus,  but  did  not 
accompany  him  in  his  third  voyage,  in  the  spring  of  1498.  He 
was  probably  impatient  of  subordination,  and  ambitious  of  a 
separate  employment  or  command,  which  the  influence  of  his 
connexions  gave  him  a  great  chance  of  obtaining.  He  had  a 
cousin-german  of  his  own  name,  the  reverend  Padre  Alonzo  de 
Ojeda,  a  Dominican  friar,  who  was  one  of  the  first  inquisitors 
of  Spam,  and  a  great  favourite  with  the  Catholic  sovereigns.* 
This  father  inquisitor  was,  moreover,  an  intimate  friend  of  the 
bishop  Don  Juan  Rodriguez  Fonseca,  who  had  the  chief  man 
agement  of  the  affairs  of  the  Indies,  under  which  general  name 
were  comprehended  all  the  countries  discovered  in  the  new 

*  Pizarro.    Varones  Ilustres. 


ALONZO  DE  OJEDA.  11 

world.  Through  the  good  offices  of  his  cousin  inquisitor,  there 
fore,  Ojeda  had  been  introduced  to  the  notice  of  the  bishop, 
who  took  him  into  his  especial  favour  and  patronage.  Men 
tion  has  already  been  made,  in  the  History  of  Columbus,  of  a 
present  made  by  the  bishop  to  Ojeda  of  a  small  Flemish  paint 
ing  of  the  Holy  Virgin.  This  the  young  adventurer  carried 
about  with  him  as  a  protecting  relic,  invoking  it  at  all  times  of 
peril,  whether  by  sea  or  land ;  and  to  the  special  care  of  the 
Virgin  he  attributed  the  remarkable  circumstance  that  he  had 
never  been  wounded  in  any  of  the  innumerable  brawls  and 
battles  into  which  he  was  continually  betrayed  by  his  rash  and 
fiery  temperament. 

While  Ojeda  was  lingering  about  the  court,  letters  were 
received  from  Columbus,  giving  an  account  of  the  events  of 
his  third  voyage,  especially  of  his  discovery  of  the  coast  of 
Paria,  which  he  described  as  abounding  with  drugs  and  spices, 
with  gold  and  silver,  and  precious  stones,  and,  above  all,  with 
oriental  pearls,  and  which  he  supposed  to  be  the  borders  of 
that  vast  and  unknown  region  of  the  East,  wherein,  according 
to  certain  learned  theorists,  was  situated  the  terrestrial  para 
dise.  Specimens  of  the  pearls,  procured  in  considerable  quan 
tities  from  the  natives,  accompanied  his  epistle,  together  with 
charts  descriptive  of  his  route.  These  tidings  caused  a  great 
sensation  among  the  maritime  adventurers  of  Spain;  but  no 
one  was  more  excited  by  them  than  Alonzo  de  Ojeda,  who, 
from  his  intimacy  with  the  bishop,  had  full  access  to  the 
charts  and  correspondence  of  Columbus.  He  immediately 
conceived  the  project  of  making  a  voyage  in  the  route  thus 
marked  out  by  the  admiral,  and  of  seizing  upon  the  first  fruits 
of  discovery  which  he  had  left  ungathered.  His  scheme  met 
with  ready  encouragement  from  Fonseca,  who,  as  has  hereto 
fore  been  shown,  was  an  implacable  enemy  to  Columbus,  and 
willing  to  promote  any  measure  that  might  injure  or  molest1 
him.  The  bishop  accordingly  granted  a  commission  to  Ojeda, 
authorizing  him  to  fit  out  an  armament  and  proceed  on  a 
voyage  of  discovery,  with  the  proviso  merely  that  he  should 
not  visit  any  territories  appertaining  to  Portugal,  or  any  of 
the  lands  discovered  in  the  name  of  Spain  previous  to  the  year 
1495.  The  latter  part  of  this  provision  appears  to  have  been 
craftily  worded  by  the  bishop,  so  as  to  leave  the  coast  of  Paria 
and  its  pearl  fisheries  open  to  Ojeda,  they  having  been  recently 
discovered  by  Columbus  in  1498. 

The  commission  wag  signed  by  Fonseca  alone,  in  virtue  of 


12  SPANISH   VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

general  powers  vested  in  him  for  such  purposes,  but  the  signa 
ture  of  the  sovereigns  did  not  appear  on  the  instrument,  and 
it  is  doubtful  whether  their  sanction  was  sought  on  the  occa 
sion.  He  knew  that  Columbus  had  recently  remonstrated 
against  a  royal  mandate  issued  in  1495,  permitting  voyages  of 
discovery,  by  private  adventurers,  and  that  the  sovereigns 
had  in  consequence  revoked  their  mandate  wherever  it  might 
be  deemed  prejudicial  to  the  stipulated  privileges  of  the 
admiral.*  It  is  probable,  therefore,  that  the  bishop  avoided 
raising  any  question  that  might  impede  the  enterprise ;  being 
confident  of  the  ultimate  approbation  of  Ferdinand,  who 
would  be  well  pleased  to  have  his  dominions  in  the  new  world 
extended  by  the  discoveries  of  private  adventurers,  under 
taken  at  their  own  expense.  It  was  stipulated  in  this,  as  well 
as  in  subsequent  licenses  for  private  expeditions,  that  a  certain 
proportion  of  the  profits,  generally  °  fourth  or  fifth,  should  be 
reserved  for  the  crown. 

Having  thus  obtained  permission,  to  make  the  voyage,  the 
next  consideration  with  Ojeda  \w..;  to  find  the  means.  He  was 
a  young  adventurer,  a  mere  soldier  of  fortune,  and  destitute  of 
wealth;  but  he  had  a  high  reputation  for  courage  and  enter 
prise,  and  with  these,  it  was  thought,  would  soon  make  his 
way  to  the  richest  parts  of  the  newly  discovered  lands,  and 
have  the  wealth  of  the  Indies  at  his  disposal.  He  had  no  diffi 
culty,  therefore,  in  finding  monied  associates  among  the -rich 
merchants  of  Seville,  who,  in  that  arp  of  discovery,  were  ever 
ready  to  stake  their  property  upon  the  schemes  of  roving  navi 
gators.  With  such  assistance  he  soon  equipped  a  squadron  of 
four  vessels  at  Port  St.  Mary,  opposite  Cadiz.  Among  the 
seamer  who  engaged  with  him  were  several  who  had  just 
returned  from  accompanying  Columbus  in  his  voyage  to  this 
very  coast  of  Paria.  The  principal  associate  of  Ojeda,  and  one 
on  whom  he  placed  great  reliance,  was  Juan  de  la  Cosa ;  who 
accompanied  him  as  first  mate,  or,  as  it  was  termed,  chief  pilot. 
This  was  a  bold  Biscayan,  who  may  be  regarded  as  a  disciple 
of  Columbus,  with  whom  he  had  sailed  in  his  second  voyage, 
when  he  coasted  Cuba  and  Jamaica,  and  he  had  since  accom 
panied  Rodrigo  de  Bastides,  in  an  expedition  along  the  coast  of 
Terra  Firma.  The  hardy  veteran  was  looked  up  to  by  his  con 
temporaries  as  an  oracle  of  the  seas,  and  was  pronounced  one 
of  the  most  able  mariners  of  the  day;  he  may  be  excused, 

,  t.  \{.  pocwment,  cxiii, 


ALONZO  DE  OJEDA,  13 

therefore,  if  in  his  harmless  vanity  he  considered  himself  on  a 
par  even  with  Columbus.* 

Another  conspicuous  associate  of  Ojeda,  in  this  voyage,  was 
Amerigo  Vespucci,  a  Florentine  merchant,  induced  by  broken 
fortunes  and  a  rambling  disposition  to  seek  adventures  in  the 
new  world.  Whether  he  had  any  pecuniary  interest  in  the 
expedition,  and  in  what  capacity  he  sailed,  does  not  appear. 
His  importance  has  entirely  arisen  from  subsequent  circum 
stances  ;  from  his  having  written  and  published  a  narrative  of 
his  voyages,  and  from  his  name  having  eventually  been  given 
to  the  new  world. 


CHAPTER  II. 

DEPARTURE    FROM    SPAIN— ARRIVAL    ON    THE   COAST   OF  PARIA — 
CUSTOMS  OF  THE  NATIONS. 

OJEDA  sailed  from  Port  St.  Mary  on  the  20th  of  May,  1499, 
and,  having  touched  for  supplies  at  the  Canaries,  took  a  depar 
ture  from  Gomara,  pursuing  the  route  of  Columbus,  in  his 
third  voyage,  being  guided  by  the  chart  he  had  sent  home,  at 
well  as  by  the  mariners  who  had  accompanied  him  on  that 
occasion.  At  the  end  of  twenty-four  days  he  reached  the 
continent  of  the  new  world,  about  two  hundred  leagues  far 
ther  south  than  the  part  discovered  by  Columbus,  being,  as  it 
is  supposed,  the  coast  of  Surinam,  f 

From  hence  he  ran  along  the  coast  of  the  Gulf  of  Paria, 
passing  the  mouths  of  many  rivers,  but  especially  those  of  the 
Esquivo  and  the  Oronoko.  These,  to  the  astonishment  of 
the  Spaniards,  unaccustomed  as  yet  to  the  mighty  rivers  of 
the  new  world,  poured  forth  such  a  prodigious  volume  of 
water,  as  to  freshen  the  sea  for  a  great  extent.  They  beheld 
none  of  the  natives  until  they  arrived  at  the  Island  of  Trini 
dad,  on  which  island  they  met  with  traces  of  the  recent  visit 
of  Columbus. 

Vespucci,  in  his  letters,  gives  a  long  description  of  the  people 
of  this  island  and  of  the  coast  of  Paria,  who  were  of  the  Carib 
race,  tall,  well-made  and  vigorous,  and  expert  with  the  bow, 
the  lance,  and  the  buckler.  His  description,  in  general,  resem- 

*  Navarette.    Collec.  Viag.,  t.  iii.,  p.  4.  tNavarrete,  t.  iii.,  p.  211. 


14  SPANISH    VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

bles  those  which  have  frequently  been  given  of  the  Aboriginals 
of  the  new  world;  there  are  two  or  three  particulars,  however,, 
worthy  of  citation. 

They  appeared,  he  said,  to  believe  in  no  religious  creed,  to 
have  110  place  of  worship,  and  to  make  no  prayers  or  sac 
rifices;  but,  he  adds,  from  the  voluptuousness  of  their  lives, 
they  might  be  considered  Epicureans.*  Their  habitations 
were  built  in  the  shape  of  bells ;  of  the  trunks  of  trees,  thatched 
with  palm  leaves,  and  were  proof  against  wind  and  weather. 
They  appeared  to  be  in  common,  and  some  of  them  were  of 
such  magnitude  as  to  contain  six  hundred  persons:  in  one 
place  there  were  eight  principal  houses  capable  of  sheltering 
nearly  ten  thousand  inhabitants.  Every  seven  or  eight  years 
the  natives  were  obliged  to  change  their  residence,  from  the 
maladies  engendered  by  the  heat  of  the  climate  in  their 
crowded  habitations. 

Their  riches  consisted  in  beads  and  ornaments  made  from 
the  bones  of  fishes;  in  small  white  and  green  stones  strung 
like  rosaries,  with  which  they  adorned  their  persons,  and  in 
the  beautiful  plumes  of  various  colours  for  which  the  tropical 
birds  are  noted. 

The  Spaniards  smiled  at  their  simplicity  in  attaching  an 
extraordinary  value  to  such  worthless  trifles ;  while  the  sav 
ages,  in  all  probability,  were  equally  surprised  at  beholding 
the  strangers  so  eager  after  gold,  and  pearls  and  precious 
stones,  which  to  themselves  were  objects  of  indifference. 

Their  manner  of  treating  the  dead  was  similar  to  that  ob 
served  among  the  natives  of  some  of  the  islands.  Having 
deposited  the  corpse  in  a  cavern  or  sepulchre,  they  placed  a  jar 
of  water  and  a  few  eatables  at  its  head,  and  then  abandoned 
it  without  moan  or  lamentation.  In  some  parts  of  the  coast, 
when  a  person  was  considered  near  his  end,  his  nearest  rela 
tives  bore  him  to  the  woods  and  laid  him  in  a  hammock  sus 
pended  to  the  trees.  They  then  danced  round  him  until 
evening,  when,  having  left  within  his  reach  sufficient  meat 
and  drink  to  sustain  him  for  four  days,  they  repaired  to  their 
habitations.  If  he  recovered  and  returned  home,  he  was  re 
ceived  with  much  ceremony  and  rejoicing;  if  he  died  of  his 
malady  or  of  famine,  nothing  more  was  thought  of  him. 

Their  mode  of  treating  a  fever  is  also  worthy  of  mention. 
In  the  height  of  the  malady  they  plunged  the  patient  in  a  bath 

*  Viages  de  Vespucci.    Navarrete,  t.  iii.,  p.  211. 


ALOAZO  DE  OJEDA.  15 

of  the  coldest  water,  after  which  they  obliged  him  to  make 
many  evolutions  round  a  great  fire,  until  he  was  in  a  violent 
heat,  when  they  put  him  to  bed,  that  he  might  sleep :  a  treat 
ment,  adds  Amerigo  Vespucci,  by  which  we  saw  many  cured. 


CHAPTEE  III. 

COASTING  OF  TERRA  FIRMA— MILITARY    EXPEDITION  OF  OJEDA. 

AFTER  touching  at  various  parts  of  Trinidad  and  the  Gulf 
of  Paria,  Ojeda  passed  through  the  strait  of  the  Boca  del 
Drago,  or  Dragon's  Mouth,  which  Columbus  had  found  so 
formidable,  and  then  steered  his  course  along  the  coast  of 
Terra  Firma,  landing  occasionally  until  he  arrived  at  Curiana, 
or  the  Gulf  of  Pearls.  From  hence  he  stood  to  the  opposite 
island  of  Margarita,  previously  discovered  by  Columbus,  and 
since  renowned  for  its  pearl  fishery.  This,  as  well  as  several 
adjacent  islands,  he  visited  and  explored;  after  which  he  re 
turned  to  the  main  land,  and  touched  at  Cumana  and  Mara- 
capana,  where  he  found  the  rivers  infested  with  alligators  re 
sembling  the  crocodiles  of  the  Nile. 

Finding  a  convenient  harbour  at  Maracapana  he  unloaded 
and  careened  his  vessels  there,  and  built  a  small  brigantine. 
The  natives  came  to  him  in  great  numbers,  bringing  abundance 
of  venison,  fish,  and  cassava  bread,  and  aiding  the  seamen  in 
their  labours.  Their  hospitality  was  not  certainly  disinter 
ested,  for  they  sought  to  gain  the  protection  of  the  Spaniards, 
whom  they  reverenced  as  superhuman  beings.  When  they 
thought  they  had  sufficiently  secured  their  favour,  they  repre 
sented  to  Ojeda  that  their  coast  was  subject  to  invasion  from 
a  distant  island,  the  inhabitants  of  which  were  cannibals,  and 
carried  their  people  into  captivity,  to  be  devoured  at  their 
unnatural  banquets.  They  besought  Ojeda,  therefore,  to 
avenge  them  upon  these  ferocious  enemies. 

The  request  was  gratifying  to  the  fighting  propensities  of 
Alonzo  de  Ojeda,  and  to  his  love  of  adventure,  and  was  readily 
granted.  Taking  seven  of  the  natives  on  board  of  his  vessels, 
therefore,  as  guides,  he  set  sail  in  quest  of  the  cannibals. 
After  sailing  for  seven  days  he  came  to  a  chain  of  islands, 


16  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERT. 

some  of  which  were  peopled,  others  uninhabited,  and  which 
are  supposed  to  have  been  the  Carribee  islands.  One  of  these 
was  pointed  out  by  his  guides  as  the  habitation  of  their  foes. 
On  running  near  the  shore  he  beheld  it  thronged  with  savage 
warriors,  decorated  with  coronets  of  gaudy  plumes,  their 
bodies  painted  with  a  variety  of  colours.  They  were  armed 
with  bows  and  arrows,  with  darts,  lances,  and  bucklers5  and 
seemed  prepared  to  defend  their  island  from  invasion. 

This  show  of  war  was  calculated  to  rouse  the  martial  spirit 
of  Ojeda.  He  brought  his  ships  to  anchor,  ordered  out  his 
boats,  and  provided  each  with  a  paterero  or  small  cannon. 
Beside  the  oarsmen,  each  boat  contained  a  number  of  soldiers, 
who  were  told  to  crouch  out  of  sight  in  the  bottom.  The 
boats  then  pulled  in  steadily  for  the  shore.  As  they  ap 
proached,  the  Indians  let  fly  a  cloud  of  arrows,  but  without 
much  effect.  Seeing  the  boats  continue  to  advance,  the  sav 
ages  threw  themselves  into  the  sea,  and  brandished  thoir  lances 
to  prevent  their  landing.  Upon  this,  the  soldiers  sprang  up  in 
the  boats  and  discharged  the  patereroes.  At  the  sound  and 
smoke  of  these  unknown  weapons  the  savages  abandoned  the 
water  in  affright,  while  Ojeda  and  his  men  leaped  on  shore 
and  pursued  them.  The  Carib  warriors  rallied  on  the  banks, 
and  fought  for  a  long  time  with  that  courage  peculiar  to  their 
race,  but  were  at  length  driven  to  the  woods,  at  the  edge  of  the 
sword,  leaving  many  killed  and  wounded  on  the  field  of  battle. 

On  the  following  day  the  savages  were  seen  on  the  shore  in 
still  greater  numbers,  armed  and  painted,  and  decorated  with 
war  plumes,  and  sounding  defiance  with  their  conchs  and 
drums.  Ojeda  again  landed  fifty-seven  men,  whom  he  sep 
arated  into  four  companies,  and  ordered  them  to  charge  the 
enemy  from  different  directions.  The  Caribs  fought  for  a 
time  hand  to  hand,  displaying  great  dexterity  in  covering 
themselves  with  their  bucklers,  but  were  at  length  entirely 
routed  and  driven,  with  great  slaughter,  to  the  forests.  The 
Spaniards  had  but  one  man  killed  and  twenty-one  wounded  in 
these  combats,— such  superior  advantage  did  their  armour 
give  them  over  the  naked  savages.  Having  plundered  and  set 
fire  to  the  houses,  they  returned  triumphantly  to  their  ships, 
with  a  number  of  Carib  captives,  and  made  sail  for  the  main 
land.  Ojeda  bestowed  a  part  of  the  spoil  upon  the  seven 
Indians  who  had  accompanied  him  as  guides,  and  sent  them 
exulting  to  their  homes,  to  relate  to  their  countrymen  the 
signal  vengeance  that  had  been  wreaked  upon  their  foes,  He 


ALONZO  DE  OJEDA.  17 

then  anchored  in  a  bay,  where  he  remained  for  twenty  days, 
until  his  men  had  recovered  from  their  wounds.* 


CHAPTEE  IV. 

DISCOVERY  OF    THE  GULF  OF  VENEZUELA— TRANSACTIONS  THERE 
— OJEDA  EXPLORES  THE  GULF — PENETRATES  TO  MARACAIBO. 

His  crew  being  refreshed,  and  the  wounded  sufficiently  re 
covered,  Ojeda  made  sail,  and  touched  at  the  island  of  Curazao, 
which,  according  to  the  accounts  of  Vespucci,  was  inhabited  by 
a  race  of  giants,  '  *  every  woman  appearing  a  Penthesilea,  and 
every  man  an  Antseus."!  As  Vespucciwas  a  scholar,  and  as  he 
supposed  himself  exploring  the  regions  of  the  extreme  East,  the 
ancient  realm  of  fable,  it  is  probable  his  imagination  deceived 
him,  and  construed  the  formidable  accounts  given  by  the  In 
dian  "5  of  their  cannibal  neighbours  of  the  islands,  into  some 
thing  according  with  his  recollections  of  classic  fable.  Certain 
it  is,  that  the  reports  of  subsequent  voyagers  proved  the  in 
habitants  of  the  island  to  be  of  the  ordinary  size. 

Proceeding  along  the  coast,  he  arrived  at  a  vast  deep  gulf, 
resembling  a  tranquil  lake ;  entering  which,  he  beheld  on  the 
eastern  side  a  village,  the  construction  of  which  struck  him 
with  surprise.  It  consisted  of  twenty  large  houses,  shaped  like 
bells,  and  built  on  piles  driven  into  the  bottom  of  the  lake, 
which,  in  this  part,  was  limpid  and  of  but  little  depth.  Each 
house  was  provided  with  a  drawbridge,  and  with  canoes,  by 
which  the  communication  was  carried  on.  From  these  resem 
blances  to  the  Italian  city,  Ojeda  gave  to  the  bay  the  name  of 
the  Gulf  of  Venice :  and  it  is  called  at  the  present  day  Vene 
zuela,  or  Little  Venice :  the  Indian  name  was  Coquibacoa. 

When  the  inhabitants  beheld  the  ships  standing  into  the 
bay,  looking  like  wonderful  and  unknown  apparitions  from  the 
deep,  they  fled  with  terror  to  their  houses,  and  raised  the 
drawbridges.  The  Spaniards  remained  for  a  time  gazing  with 


*  There  is  some  discrepance  in  the  early  accounts  of  this  battle,  as  to  the  time 
and  place  of  its  occurrence.  The  author  has  collated  the  narratives  of  Vespucci, 
Las  Casas,  Herrera,  and  Peter  Martyr,  and  the  evidence  given  in  the  law-suit  of 
Diego  Columbus,  and  has  endeavoured  as  much  as  possible  to  reconcile  them, 

t  Vespucci.— Letter  to  Lorenzo  de  Pier  Francisco  de  Medicis. 


18  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

admiration  at  this  amphibious  village,  when  a  squadron  of 
canoes  entered  the  harbour  from  the  sea.  On  beholding  the 
ships  they  paused  in  mute  amazement,  and  on  the  Spaniards 
attempting  to  approach  them,  paddled  swiftly  to  shore,  and 
plunged  into  the  forest.  They  soon  returned  with  sixteen 
young  girls,  whom  they  conveyed  in  their  canoes  to  the  ships, 
distributing  four  on  board  of  each,  either  as  peace-offerings  or 
as  tokens  of  amity  and  confidence.  The  best  of  understanding 
now  seemed  to  be  established ;  and  the  inhabitants  of  the  vil 
lage  came  swarming  about  the  ships  in  their  canoes,  and  others 
swimming  in  great  numbers  from  the  shores. 

The  friendship  of  the  savages,  however,  was  all  delusive.  uOn 
a  sudden,  several  old  women  at  the  doors  of  the  houses  uttered 
loud  shrieks,  tearing  their  hair  in  fury.  It  appeared  to  be  a 
signal  for  hostility.  The  sixteen  nymphs  plunged  into  the  sea 
and  made  for  shore;  the  Indians  in  the  canoes  caught  up 
their  bows  and  discharged  a  flight  of  arrows,  and  even  those 
who  were  swimming  brandished  darts  and  lances,  which  they 
had  hitherto  concealed  beneath  the  water. 

Ojeda  was  for  a  moment  surprised  at  seeing  war  thus  start 
ing  up  on  every  side,  and  the  very  sea  bristling  with  weapons. 
Manning  his  boats,  he  immediately  charged  among  the  thick 
est  of  the  enemy,  shattered  and  sunk  several  of  their  canoes, 
killed  twenty  Indians  and  wounded  many  more,  and  spread 
such  a  panic  among  them,  that  most  of  the  survivors  flung 
themselves  into  the  sea  and  swam  to  shore.  Three  of  them 
were  taken  prisoners,  and  two  of  the  fugitive  girls,  and  were 
conveyed  on  board  of  the  ships,  where  the  men  were  put  in 
irons.  One  of  them,  however,  and  the  two  girls,  succeeded  in 
dexterously  escaping  the  same  night. 

Ojeda  had  but  five  men  wounded  in  the  affray,  all  of  whom 
recovered.  He  visited  the  houses,  but  found  them  abandoned 
and  destitute  of  booty ;  notwithstanding  the  unprovoked  hos 
tility  of  the  inhabitants,  he  spared  the  buildings,  that  he  might 
not  cause  useless  irritation  along  the  coast. 

Continuing  to  explore  this  gulf,  Ojeda  penetrated  to  a  port 
or  harbour,  to  which  he  gave  the  name  of  St.  Bartholomew, 
but  which  is  supposed  to  be  the  same  at  present  known  by  the 
original  Indian  name  of  Maracaibo.  Here,  in  compliance  with 
the  entreaties  of  the  natives,  he  sent  a  detachment  of  twenty- 
seven  Spaniards  on  a  visit  to  the  interior.  For  nine  days  they 
were  conducted  from  town  to  town,  and  feasted  and  almost 
idolized  by  the  Indians,  who  regarded  them  as  angelic  beings, 


ALONZO  DE  OJEDA.  19 

performing  their  national  dances  and  games,  and  chaunting 
their  traditional  ballads  for  their  entertainment. 

The  natives  of  this  part  were  distinguished  for  the  symme 
try  of  their  forms ;  the  females  in  particular  appeared  to  the 
Spaniards  to  surpass  all  others  that  they  had  yet  beheld  in  the 
new  world  for  grace  and  beauty ;  neither  did  the  men  evince, 
in  the  least  degree,  that  jealousy  •  which  prevailed  in  other 
parts  of  the  coast ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  permitted  the  most 
frank  and  intimate  intercourse  with  their  wives  and  daughters. 

By  the  time  the  Spaniards  set  out  on  their  return  to  the  ship, 
the  whole  country  was  aroused,  pouring  forth  its  population, 
male  and  female,  to  do  them  honour.  Some  bore  them  in  lit 
ters  or  hammocks,  that  they  might  not  be  fatigued  with  the 
journey,  and  happy  was  the  Indian  who  had  the  honour  of 
bearing  a  Spaniard  on  his  shoulders  across  a  river.  Others 
loaded  themselves  with  the  presents  that  had  been  bestowed  on 
their  guests,  consisting  of  rich  plumes,  weapons  of  various 
kinds,  and  tropical  birds  and  animals.  In  this  way  they  re 
turned  in  triumphant  procession  to  the  ships,  the  woods  and 
shores  resounding  with  their  songs  and  shouts. 

Many  of  the  Indians  crowded  into  the  boats  that  took 
the  detachment  to  the  ships;  others  put  off  in  canoes,  or 
swam  from  shore,  so  that  in  a  little  while  the  vessels  were 
thronged  with  upwards  of  a  thousand  wondering  natives. 
While  gazing  and  marvelling  at  the  strange  objects  around 
them,  Ojeda  ordered  the  cannon  to  be  discharged,  at  the  sound 
of  which,  says  Vespucci,  the  Indians  "  plunged  into  the  water, 
like  so  many  frogs  from  a  bank."  Perceiving,  however,  that 
it  was  done  in  harmless  mirth,  they  returned  on  board,  and 
passed  the  rest  of  the  day  in  great  festivity.  The  Spaniards 
brought  away  with  them  several  of  the  beautiful  and  hospitable 
females  from  this  place,  one  of  whom,  named  by  them  Isabel, 
was  much  prized  by  Ojeda,  and  accompanied  him  in  a  subse 
quent  voyage.* 


*  Navarette,  t.  iii.,  p.  8.    Idem,  pp  107,  108.» 

It  is  worthy  of  particular  mention  that  Ojeda,  in  his  report  of  his  voyage  to  the 
Sovereigns,  informed  them  of  his  having  met  with  English  voyagers  in  the  vicinity 
of  Coquihacoa,  and  that  the  Spanish  government  attached  such  importance  to  his 
information  as  to  take  measures  to  prevent  any  intrusion  into  those  parts  by  the 
English.  It  is  singular  that  no  record  should  exist  of  this  early  and  extensive  ex 
pedition  of  English  navigators.  If  it  was  undertaken  in  the  service  of  the  Crown, 
some  document  might  be  found  concerning  it  among  the  archives  of  the  reign  of 
Henry  VII.  The  English  had  already  discovered  the  continent  of  North  America. 
This  had  been  done  in  1497,  by  John  Cabot,  a  Venetian,  accompanied  by  his  son 


20  SPANISH  VOYAGES  0*  DISCOVERY. 

CHAPTER  V. 

PROSECUTION  OF  THE  VOYAGE— RETURN  TO   SPAIN. 

LEAVING  the  friendly  port  of  Coquibacoa,  Ojeda  continued 
along  the  western  shores  of  the  gulf  of  Venezuela,  and  standing 
out  to  sea,  and  doubling  Cape  Maracaibo,  he  pursued  his 
coasting  voyage  from  port  to  port,  and  promontory  to  promon 
tory,  of  this  unknown  continent,  until  he  reached  that  long 
stretching  headland  called  Cape  de  la  Vela.  There,  the  state 
of  his  vessels,  and  perhaps  the  disappointment  of  his  hopes  at 
not  meeting  with  abundant  sources  of  immediate  wealth, 
induced  him  to  abandon  all  further  voyaging  along  the  coast, 
and,  changing  his  course,  he  stood  across  the  Caribbean  Sea  for 
Hispaniola.  The  tenor  of  his  commission  forbade  his  visiting 
that  island;  but  Ojeda  was  not  a  man  to  stand  upon  trifles 
when  his  interest  or  inclination  prompted  the  contrary.  He 
trusted  to  excuse  the  infraction  of  his  orders  by  the  alleged 
necessity  of  touching  at  the  island  to  caulk  and  refit  his  ves 
sels,  and  to  procure  provisions.  His  true  object,  however,  is 
supposed  to  have  been  to  cut  dyewood,  which  abounds  in  the 
western  part  of  Hispaniola. 

He  accordingly,  anchored  at  Yaquimo  in  September,  and 
landed  with  a  large  party  of  his  men.  Columbus  at  that  time 
held  command  of  the  island,  and,  hearing  of  this  unlicensed 
intrusion,  despatched  Francesco  Roldan,  the  quondam  rebel, 
to  call  Ojeda  to  account.  The  contest  of  stratagem  and  man 
agement  that  took  place  between  these  two  adroit  and  daring 
adventurers  has  already  been  detailed  in  the  History  of  Colum 
bus.  Roldan  was  eventually  successful,  and  Ojeda,  being 
obliged  to  leave  Hispaniola,  resumed  his  rambling  voyage,  vis 
iting  various  islands,  from  whence  he  carried  off  numbers  of 
the  natives.  He  at  length  arrived  at  Cadiz,  in  June,  1500, 
with  his  ships  crowded  with  captives,  whom  he  sold  as  slaves. 


Sebastian,  who  was  born  in  Bristol.  They  sailed  under  a  license  of  Henry  VII.,  who 
was  to  have  a  fifth  of  the  profits  of  the  voyage.  On  the  24th  June  they  dis 
covered  Newfoundland,  and  afterwards  coasted  the  continent  quite  to  Florida, 
bringing  back  to  England  a  valuable  cargo  and  several  of  the  natives.  This  was  the 
firxt  discovery  of  the  mainland  of  America.  The  success  of  this  expedition  may 
have  prompted  the  one  which  Ojeda  encountered  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Coqu* 
bacoa. 


ALONZO  DE  OJEDA.  21 

So  meagre,  however,  was  the  result  of  this  expedition,  that  we 
are  told,  when  all  the  expenses  were  deducted,  but  five  hun 
dred  ducats  remained  to  be  divided  between  fifty-five  adven 
turers.  What  made  this  result  the  more  mortifying  was,  that 
a  petty  armament  which  had  sailed  sometime  after  that  of 
Ojeda,  had  returned  two  months  before  him,  rich  with  the 
spoils  of  the  New  World.  A  brief  account  of  this  latter  expe 
dition  is  necessary  to  connect  this  series  of  minor  discoveries. 


22  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 


PEDRO  ALONZO  NINO*  AND  CHRISTOVAL 
GUERRA.-CL499.) 


THE  permission  granted  by  Bishop  Fonseca  to  Alonzo  de 
Ojeda,  to  undertake  a  private  expedition  to  the  New  World, 
roused  the  emulation  of  others  of  the  followers  of  Columbus. 
Among  these  was  Pedro  Alonzo  Nino,  a  hardj  seaman,  native 
of  Moguer  in  the  vicinity  of  Palos,  who  had  sailed  with  Colum 
bus,  as  a  pilot,  in  his  first  voyage,  and  also  in  his  cruisings 
along  the  coasts  of  Cuba  and  Paria.f  He  soon  obtained  from 
the  bishop  a  similar  license  to  that  given  to  Ojeda,  and,  like 
the  latter,  sought  for  some  monied  confederate  among  the 
rich  merchants  of  Seville.  One  of  these,  named  Luis  Guerra, 
offered  to  fit  out  a  caravel  for  the  expedition ;  but  on  condition 
that  his  brother,  Christoval  Guerra,  should  have  the  command. 
The  poverty  of  Nino  compelled  him  to  assent  to  the  stipula 
tions  of  the  man  of  wealth,  and  he  sailed  as  subaltern  in  his 
own  enterprise;  but  his  nautical  skill  and  knowledge  soon 
gained  him  the  ascendancy,  he  became  virtually  the  captain, 
and  ultimately  enjoyed  the  whole  credit  of  the  voyage. 

The  bark  of  these  two  adventurers  was  but  of  fifty  tons  bur 
then,  and  the  crew  thirty -three  souls  all  told.  With  this  slen 
der  armament  they  undertook  to  traverse  unknown  and  dan 
gerous  seas,  and  to  explore  the  barbarous  shores  of  that  vast 
continent  recently  discovered  by  Columbus;— such  was  the 
daring  spirit  of  the  Spanish  voyagers  of  those  days. 

It  was  about  the  beginning  of  June,  1499,  and  but  a  few  days 
after  the  departure  of  Ojeda,  that  they  put  to  sea.  They 
sailed  from  the  little  port  of  Palos,  the  original  cradle  of  Amer^ 
ican  discovery,  whose  brave  and  skilful  mariners  long  contin 
ued  foremost  in  all  enterprises  to  the  New  World.  Being 
guided  by  the  chart  of  Columbus,  they  followed  his  route,  and 


*  Pronounced  Ninyo.    The  N  in  Spanish  is  always  pronounced  as  if  followed  by 
the  letter  y. 
•t  Testimony  of  Bastides  in  the  law-suit  of  Diego  Columbus. 


PEDRO  AL03ZO  AINO  AND  CHR1STOVAL   GUERRA.  23 

reached  the  southern  continent,  a  little  beyond  Paria,  about 
fifteen  days  after  the  same  coast  had  been  visited  by  Ojeda. 

They  then  proceeded  to  the  gulf  of  Paria,  where  they  landed 
to  cut  dye-wood,  and  were  amicably  entertained  by  the 
natives.  Shortly  after,  sallying  from  the  gulf  by  the  Boca  del 
Drago,  they  encountered  eighteen  canoes  of  Caribs,  the  pirate- 
rovers  of  these  seas  and  the  terror  of  the  bordering  lands. 
This  savage  armada,  instead  of  being  daunted  as  usual  by  the 
sight  of  a  European  ship  with  swelling  sails,  resembling  some 
winged  monster  of  the  deep,  considered  it  only  as  an  object  of 
plunder  or  hostility,  and  assailed  it  with  showers  of  arrows. 
The  sudden  burst  of  artillery,  however,  from  the  sides  of  the 
caravel  and  the  havoc  made  among  the  Caribs  by  this  seeming 
thunder,  struck  them  with  dismay  and  they  fled  in  all  direc 
tions.  The  Spaniards  succeeded  in  capturing  one  of  the  canoes, 
with  one  of  the  warriors  who  had  manned  it.  In  the  bottom 
of  the  canoe  lay  an  Indian  prisoner  bound  hand  and  foot.  On 
being  liberated,  he  informed  the  Spaniards  by  signs  that  these 
Caribs  had  been  on  a  marauding  expedition  along  the  neigh 
bouring  coasts,  shutting  themselves  up  at  night  in  a  stockade 
which  they  carried  with  them,  and  issuing  forth  by  day  to 
plunder  the  villages  and  to  make  captives.  He  had  been 
one  of  seven  prisoners.  His  companions  had  been  devoured 
before  his  eyes  at  the  cannibal  banquets  of  these  savages,  and 
he  had  been  awaiting  the  same  miserable  fate.  Honest  Nino 
and  his  confederates  were  so  indignant  at  this  recital,  that, 
receiving  it  as  established  fact,  they  performed  what  they  con 
sidered  an  act  of  equitable  justice,  by  abandoning  the  Carib  to 
the  discretion  of  his  late  captive.  The  latter  fell  upon  the 
defenceless  warrior  with  fist  and  foot  and  cudgel ;  nor  did  his 
rage  subside  even  after  the  breath  had  been  mauled  out  of  his 
victim,  but,  tearing  the  grim  head  from  the  body,  he  placed  it 
on  a  pole  as  a  trophy  of  his  vengeance. 

Niilo  and  his  fellow-adventurers  now  steered  for  the  island 
of  Margarita,  where  they  obtained  a  considerable  quantity  of 
pearls  by  barter.  They  afterwards  skirted  the  opposite  coast 
of  Cumana,  trading  cautiously  and  shrewdly  from  port  to  port, 
sometimes  remaining  on  board  of  their  little  bark,  and  obliging 
the  savages  to  come  off  to  them,  when  the  latter  appeared  too 
numerous,  at  other  times  venturing  on  shore,  and  even  into 
the  interior.  They  were  invariably  treated  with  amity  by  the 
natives,  who  were  perfectly  naked,  excepting  that  they  were 
adorned  with  necklaces  and  bracelets  of  pearls.  These  they 


24  SPANISH    VOYAUES   Utf  DISCOVERY. 

sometimes  gave  freely  to  the  Spaniards,  at  other  times  the;? 
exchanged  them  for  glass  beads  and  other  trinkets,  and 
smiled  at  the  folly  of  the  strangers  in  making  such  silly  bar 
gains.* 

The  Spaniards  were  struck  with  the  grandeur  and  density 
of  the  forests  along  this  coast,  for  in  these  regions  of  heat 
and  moisture,  vegetation  appears  in  its  utmost  magnificence. 
They  heard  also  the  cries  and  roarings  of  wild  and  unknown 
animals  in  the  woodlands,  which,  however,  appeared  not  to  be 
very  dangerous,  as  the  Indians  went  about  the  forest  armed 
solely  with  bows  and  arrows.  From  meeting  with  deer  and 
rabbits,  they  were  convinced  that  that  was  a  part  of  Terra 
Firma,  not  having  found  any  animals  of  the  kind  on  the 
islands,  t 

Nino  and  Guerra  were  so  well  pleased  with  the  hospitality 
of  the  natives  of  Cumana,  and  with  the  profitable  traffic  for 
pearls,  by  which  they  obtained  many  of  great  size  and  beauty, 
that  they  remained  upwards  of  three  months  on  the  coast. 

They  then  proceeded  westward  to  a  country  called  Cauchieto, 
trading  as  usual  for  pearls,  and  for  the  inferior  kind  of  gold 
called  guanin.  At  length  they  arrived  at  a  place  where  there 
was  a  kind  of  fortress  protecting  a  number  of  houses  and 
gardens  situated  on  a  river,  the  whole  forming  to  the  eyes  of 
the  Spaniards  one  of  the  most  delicious  abodes  imaginable. 
They  were  about  to  land  and  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  this 
fancied  paradise,  when  they  beheld  upwards  of  a  thousand 
Indians,  armed  with  bows  and  arrows  and  war-clubs,  prepar 
ing  to  give  them  a  warm  reception;  having  been  probably 
incensed  by  the  recent  visit  of  Ojeda.  As  Nino  and  Guerra 
had  not  the  fighting  propensities  of  Ojeda,  and  were  in  quest 
of  profit  rather  than  renown,  having,  moreover,  in  all  proba 
bility,  the  fear  of  the  rich  merchant  of  Seville  before  their 
eyes,  they  prudently  abstained  from  landing,  and,  abandoning 
this  hostile  coast,  returned  forthwith  to  Cumana  to  resume 
their  trade  for  pearls.  They  soon  amassed  a  great  number, 
many  of  which  were  equal  in  size  and  beauty  to  the  most  cele 
brated  of  the  East,  though  they  had  been  injured  hi  boring 
from  a  want  of  proper  implements. 

Satisfied  with  their  success  they  now  set  sail  for  Spain,  and 
piloted  their  little  bark  safely  to  Bayonne  in  Gallicia,  where 
they  anchored  about  the  middle  of  April,  1500,  nearly  two 

*  Las  Casas.    Hist.  Ind.,  lib.  i.  c.  171.  t  Navarrete,  t.  iii.  p.  14. 


PEDRO  ALONZO  NlffO  AND  CHRISTOVAL  GUERRA.   25 

months  before  the  arrival  of  Ojeda  and  his  associates,  La  Cosa 
and  Vespucci.* 

The  most  successful  voyagers  to  the  New  World  were  doomed 
to  trouble  from  their  very  success.  The  ample  amount  of 
pearls  paid  to  the  treasury,  as  the  royal  portion  of  the  profits 
of  this  expedition,  drew  suspicion  instead  of  favour  upon  the 
two  adventurers.  They  were  accused  of  having  concealed  a 
great  part  of  the  pearls  collected  by  them,  thus  defrauding 
their  companions  and  the  crown.  Pedro  Alonzo  Nino  was 
actually  thrown  into  prison  on  this  accusation,  but,  nothing 
being  proved  against  hkn,  was  eventually  set  free,  and  enjoyed 
the  enviable  reputation  of  having  performed  the  richest 
voyage  that  had  yet  been  made  to  the  New  World,  t 

*  Peter  Martyr.    Other  historians  give  a  different  date  for  their  arrival.    Herrera, 
says  Feb.  6. 
t  Navarrete.    Collect,  t.  iii.  p.  11.    Herrera,  d.  i.  1.  iv.  c.  v. 


26  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERT. 


VICENTE  YANEZ  PINZON.-(1499). 


AMONG  the  maritime  adventurers  of  renown  who  were 
roused  to  action  by  the  licenses  granted  for  private  expeditions 
of  discovery,  we  find  conspicuous  the  name  of  Vicente  Yaiiez 
Pinzon,  of  Palos,  one  of  the  three  brave  brothers  who  aided 
Columbus  in  his  first  voyage  and  risked  life  and  fortune  with 
him  in  his  doubtful  and  perilous  enterprise. 

Of  Martin  Alonzo  Pinzon,  the  eldest  and  most  important  of 
these  three  brothers,  particular  mention  has  been  made  in  the 
History  of  Columbus,  and  of  the  unfortunate  error  in  conduct 
which  severed  him  from  the  admiral,  brought  on  him  the  dis 
pleasure  of  the  sovereigns,  and  probably  contributed  to  his 
premature  and  melancholy  death. 

Whatever  cloud  of  disgrace  may  have  overshadowed  his 
family,  it  was  but  temporary.  The  death  of  Martin  Alonzo, 
as  usual,  atoned  for  his  faults,  and  his  good  deeds  lived  after 
him.  The  merits  and  services  of  himself  and  his  brothers 
were  acknowledged,  and  the  survivors  of  the  family  were 
restored  to  royal  confidence.  A  feeling  of  jealous  hostility 
prevented  them  from  taking  a  part  in  the  subsequent  voyages 
of  Columbus ;  but  the  moment  the  door  was  thrown  open  for 
individual  enterprise,  they  pressed  forward  for  permission  to 
engage  in  it  at  their  own  risk  and  expense — and  it  was  readily 
granted.  In  fact,  their  supposed  hostility  to  Columbus  was 
one  of  the  surest  reeommendations  they  could  have  to  the 
favour  of  the  Bishop  Fonseca,  by  whom,  the  license  was  issued 
for  their  expedition. 

Vicente  Yanez  Pinzon  was  the  leader  of  this  new  enterprise, 
and  he  was  accompanied  by  two  nephews  named  Arias  Perez 
and  Diego  Fernandez,  sons  of  his  late  brother,  Martin  Alonzo 
Pinzon.  Several  of  his  sailors  had  sailed  with  Columbus  in 
liis  recent  voyage  to  Paria,  as  had  also  his  three  principal 
pilots,  Juan  Quintero,  Juan  de  Umbria,  and  Juan  de  Jerez. 
ILu.ufj  these  minor  voyages  seemed  all  to  emanate  from  the 


V1CKXTE   YANEZ  P1XZON.  27 

great  expeditions  of  Columbus,  and  to  aim  at  realizing  the 
ideas  and  speculations  contained  in  the  papers  transmitted  by 
him  to  Spain. 

The  armament  consisted  of  four  caravels,  and  was  fitted  out 
at  the  port  of  Palos.  The  funds  of  Vicente  Yanez  were  com 
pletely  exhausted  before  he  had  fitted  out  his  little  squadron ; 
he  was  obliged,  therefore,  to  purchase  on  credit  the  sea-stores 
and  articles  of  traffic  necessary  for  the  enterprise.  The  mer 
chants  of  Palos  seemed  to  have  known  how  to  profit  by  the 
careless  nature  of  sailors  and  the  sanguine  spirit  of  dis 
coverers.  In  their  bargains  they  charged  honest  Pinzon 
eighty  and  a  hundred  per  cent,  above  the  market  value  of 
their  merchandise,  and  in  the  hurry  and  urgency  of  the 
moment  he  was  obliged  to  submit  to  the  imposition.* 

The  squadron  put  to  sea  in  the  beginning  of  December,  1499, 
and,  after  passing  the  Canary  and  Cape  de  Verde  Islands,  stood 
to  the  south-west.  Having  sailed  about  seven  hundred  leagues, 
they  crossed  the  equator  and  lost  sight  of  the  north  star. 
They  had  scarcely  passed  the  equinoctial  line  when  they 
encountered  a  terrible  tempest,  which  had  well-nigh  swallowed 
up  their  slender  barks.  The  storm  passed  away  and  the 
firmament  was  again  serene ;  but  the  mariners  remained  tossing 
about  in  confusion,  dismayed  by  the  turbulence  of  the  waves 
and  the  strange  aspect  of  the  heavens.  They  looked  in  vain  to 
the  south  for  some  polar  star  by  which  to  shape  their  course, 
and  fancied  that  some  swelling  prominence  of  the  globe  con 
cealed  it  from  their  view.  They  knew  nothing  as  yet  of  the 
firmament  of  that  hemisphere,  nor  of  that  beautiful  constella 
tion,  the  southern  cross,  but  expected  to  find  a  guiding  star  at 
the  opposite  pole,  similar  to  the  cynosure  of  the  north. 

Pinzon,  however,  who  was  of  an  intrepid  spirit,  pursued  his 
course  resolutely  to  the  west,  and  after  sailing  about  two  hun 
dred  and  forty  leagues,  and  being  in  the  eighth  degree  of 
southern  latitude,  he  beheld  land  afar  off  on  the  28th  of 
January,  to  which  he  gave  the  name  of  Santa  Maria  de  la 
Consolation,  from  the  sight  of  it  having  consoled  him  in  the 
midst  of  doubts  and  perplexities.  It  is  now  called  Cape  St. 
Augustine,  and  forms  the  most  prominent  part  of  the  immense 
empire  of  Brazil. 

The  sea  was  turbid  and  discoloured  as  in  rivers,  and  on 


*  Navarrete,  vol.  iii.    See  Doc.  No.  7,  where  Vincente  Yanez  Pinzon  petitions  for 
redress, 


28  SPANISH   VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

sounding  they  had  sixteen  fathoms  of  water.  Pinzon  landed, 
accompanied  by  a  notary  and  witnesses,  and  took  formal  pos 
session  of  the  territory  for  the  Castilian  crown ;  no  one  appear 
ed  to  dispute  his  pretensions,  but  he  observed  the  print  of 
footsteps  on  the  beach  which  seemed  of  gigantic  size. 

At  night  there  were  fires  lighted  upon  a  neighbouring  part 
of  the  coast,  which  induced  Pinzon  on  the  following  morning 
to  send  forty  men  well  armed  to  the  spot.  A  band  of  Indians, 
of  about  equal  number,  sallied  forth  to  encounter  them,  armed 
with  bows  and  arrows,  and  seemingly  of  extraordinary  stature. 
A  still  greater  number  were  seen  in  the  distance  hastening  to 
the  support  of  their  companions.  The  Indians  arrayed  them 
selves  for  combat,  and  the  two  parties  remained  for  a  short 
time  eyeing  each  other  with  mutual  curiosity  and  distrust. 
The  Spaniards  now  displayed  looking-glasses,  beads,  and  other 
trinkets,  and  jingled  strings  of  hawks'  bells,  in  general  so  capti 
vating  to  an  Indian  ear ;  but  the  haughty  savages  treated  all 
their  overtures  with  contempt,  regarding  these  offerings  care 
lessly  for  a  short  time,  and  then  stalking  off  with  stoic  gravity. 
They  were  ferocious  of  feature,  and  apparently  warlike  in  dis 
position,  and  are  supposed  to  have  been  a  wandering  race  of 
unusual  size,  who  roamed  about  in  the  night,  and  were  of  the 
most  fierce,  untractable  nature.  By  nightfall  there  was  not  an 
Indian  to  be  seen  in  the  neighbourhood. 

Discouraged  by  the  inhospitable  character  of  the  coast,  Pin 
zon  made  sail  and  stood  to  the  north-west,  until  he  came  to  the 
mouth  of  a  river  too  shallow  to  receive  his  ships.  Here  he 
sent  his  boats  on  shore  with  a  number  of  men  well  armed. 
They  landed  on  the  river  banks,  and  beheld  a  multitude  of 
naked  Indians  on  a  neighbouring  hill.  A  single  Spaniard  armed 
simply  with  sword  and  buckler  was  sent  to  invite  them  to 
friendly  intercourse.  He  approached  them  with  signs  of  amity, 
and  threw  to  them  a  hawk's  bell.  They  replied  to  him  with 
similar  signs,  and  threw  to  him  a  small  gilded  wand.  The 
soldier  stooped  to  pick  it  up,  when  suddenly  a  troop  of  sav 
ages  rushed  down  to  seize  him ;  he  threw  himself  immediately 
upon  the  defensive,  with  sword  and  target,  and  though  but  a 
small  man,  and  far  from  robust,  he  handled  his  weapons  with 
such  dexterity  and  fierceness,  that  he  kept  the  savages  at  bay, 
making  a  clear  circle  round  him,  and  wounding  several  who 
attempted  to  break  it.  His  unlooked-for  prowess  surprised 
and  confounded  his  assailants,  and  gave  time  for  his  comrades 
to  come  to  his  assistance.  The  Indians  then  made  a  general 


VICEXTE   YAffEZ  P1KZON.  29 

assault,  with  such  a  galling  discharge  of  darts  and  arrows  that 
almost  immediately  eight  or  ten  Spaniards  were  slain,  and 
many  more  wounded.  The  latter  were  compelled  to  retreat  to 
their  boats  disputing  every  inch  of  ground.  The  Indians  pur 
sued  them  even  into  the  water,  surrounding  the  boats  and 
seizing  hold  of  the  oars.  The  Spaniards  made  a  desperate 
defence,  thrusting  many  through  with  their  lances,  and  cutting 
down  and  ripping  up  others  with  their  swords ;  but  such  was 
the  ferocity  of  the  survivors,  that  they  persisted  in  their  at 
tack  until  they  overpowered  the  crew  of  one  of  the  boats,  and 
bore  it  off  in  triumph.  With  this  they  retired  from  the  com 
bat,  and  the  Spaniards  returned,  defeated  and  disheartened,  to 
their  ships,  having  met  with  the  roughest  reception  that  the 
Europeans  had  yet  experienced  in  the  New  World. 

Pinzon  now  stood  forty  leagues  to  the  north-west,  until  he 
arrived  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  equinoctial  line.  Here 
he  found  the  water  of  the  sea  so  fresh  that  he  was  enabled  to 
replenish  his  casks  with  it.  Astonished  at  so  singular  a  phe 
nomenon  he  stood  in  for  the  land,  and  arrived  among  a  number 
of  fresh  and  verdant  islands,  inhabited  by  a  gentle  and  hospi 
table  race  of  people,  gaily  painted,  who  came  off  to  the  ships 
with  the  most  frank  and  fearless  confidence.  Pinzon  soon 
found  that  these  islands  lay  in  the  mouth  of  an  immense  river, 
more  than  thirty  leagues  in  breadth,  the  water  of  which  entered 
upwards  of  forty  leagues  into  the-  sea  before  losing  its  sweet 
ness.  It  was,  in  fact,  the  renowned  Maranon,  since  known  as 
the  Orellana  and  the  Amazon.  While  lying  in  the  mouth  of 
this  river  there  was  a  sudden  swelling  of  the  stream,  which, 
being  opposed  by  the  current  of  the  sea,  and  straitened  by  the 
narrow  channels  of  the  islands,  rose  more  than  five  fathoms, 
with  mountain  waves,  and  a  tremendous  noise,  threatening 
the  destruction  of  the  ships.  Pinzon  extricated  his  little 
squadron  with  great  difficulty  from  this  perilous  situation, 
and  finding  there  was  but  little  gold  or  any  thing  else  of  value 
to  be  found  among  the  simple  natives,  he  requited  their  hospi 
tality,  in  the  mode  too  common  among  the  early  discoverers, 
by  carrying  off  thirty-six  of  them  captive. 

Having  regained  the  sight  of  the  polar  star,  Pinzon  pursued 
his  course  along  the  coast,  passing  the  mouths  of  the  Oronoko, 
and  entering  the  Gulf  of  Paria,  where  he  landed  and  cut  Bra 
zil-wood.  Sallying  forth  by  the  Boca  del  Drago,  he  reached 
the  island  of  Hispaniola  about  the  23d  of  June,  from  whence 
he  sailed  for  the  Bahamas.  Here,  in  the  month  of  July,  while 


30  SPANISH   VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

at  anchor,  there  came  such  a  tremendous  hurricane  that  two 
of  the  caravels  were  swallowed  up  with  all  their  crews  in  the 
sight  of  their  terrified  companions ;  a  third  parted  her  cables 
and  was  driven  out  to  sea,  while  the  fourth  was  so  furiously 
beaten  by  the  tempest  that  the  crew  threw  themselves  into 
the  boats  and  made  for  shore.  Here  they  found  a  few  naked 
Indians,  who  offered  them  no  molestation;  but,  fearing  that 
they  might  spread  the  tidings  of  a  handful  of  shipwrecked 
Spaniards  being  upon  the  coast,  and  thus  bring  the  savages  of 
the  neighbouring  islands  upon  them,  a  council  of  war  was  held 
whether  it  would  not  be  a  wise  precaution  to  put  these  Indians 
to  death.  Fortunately  for  the  latter,  the  vessel  which  had 
been  driven  from  her  anchors  returned  and  put  an  end  to  the 
alarm,  and  to  the  council  of  war.  The  other  caravel  also  rode 
out  the  storm  uninjured,  and  the  sea  subsiding,  the  Spaniards 
returned  on  board,  and  made  the  best  of  their  way  to  the 
Island  of  Hispaniola.  Having  repaired  the  damages  sustained 
in  the  gale,  they  again  made  sail  for  Spain,  and  came  to  anchor 
in  the  river  before  Palos  about  the  end  of  September. 

Thus  ended  one  of  the  most  chequered  and  disastrous  voy 
ages  that  had  yet  been  made  to  the  New  World.  Yailez  Pinzon 
had  lost  two  of  his  ships,  and  many  of  his  men;  what  made 
the  loss  of  the  latter  more  grievous  was  that  they  had  been  en 
listed  from  among  his  neighbours,  his  friends,  and  relatives. 
In  fact,  the  expeditions  to  the  New  World  must  have  realized 
the  terrors  and  apprehensions  of  the  people  of  Palos  by  filling 
that  little  community  with  widows  and  orphans.  When  the 
rich  merchants,  who  had  sold  goods  to  Pinzon,  at  a  hundred 
per  cent,  advance,  beheld  him  return  in  this  sorry  condition, 
with  two  shattered  barks  and  a  handful  of  poor  tattered, 
weather-beaten  seamen,  they  began  to  tremble  for  their 
money.  No  sooner,  therefore,  had  he  and  his  nephews  de 
parted  to  Granada,  to  give  an « account  of  their  discoveries  to 
the  sovereigns,  than  the  merchants  seized  upon  their  caravels 
and  cargoes,  and  began  to  sell  them  to  repay  themselves.  Hon 
est  Pinzon  immediately  addressed  a  petition  to  the  govern 
ment,  stating  the  imposition  that  had  been  practised  upon 
him,  and  the  danger  he  was  in  of  imprisonment  and  utter  ruin, 
should  his  creditors  be  allowed  to  sacrifice  his  goods  at  a  pub 
lic  sale.  He  petitioned  that  they  might  be  compelled  to  return 
the  property  thus  seized,  and  that  he  might  be  enabled  to  sell 
three  hundred  and  fifty  quintals  of  Brazil-wood,  which  he  had 
brought  back  with  him,  and  which  would  be  sufficient  to 


VICENTE   YAX'EZ  PINZON.  31 

satisfy  the  demands  of  his  creditors.  The  sovereigns  granted 
his  prayer.  They  issued  an  order  to  the  civil  authorities  of 
Palos  to  interfere  in  the  matter,  with  all  possible  promptness 
and  brevity,  allowing  no  vexatious  delay,  and  administering 
justice  so  impartially  that  neither  of  the  parties  should  have 
cause  to  complain. 

Pinzon  escaped  from  the  fangs  of  his  creditors,  but,  of 
course,  must  have  suffered  in  purse  from  the  expenses  of  the 
law ;  which,  in  Spain,  is  apt  to  bury  even  a  successful  client 
under  an  overwhelming  mountain  of  documents  and  writings. 
We  infer  this  in  respect  to  Pinzon  from  a  royal  order  issued  in 
the  following  year  allowing  him  to  export  a  quantity  of  grain, 
in  consideration  of  the  heavy  losses  he  had  sustained  in  his 
voyage  of  discovery.  He  did  but  share  the  usual  lot  of  the 
Spanish  discoverers,  whose  golden  anticipations  too  frequently 
ended  in  penury;  but  he  is  distinguished  from  among  the 
crowd  of  them  by  being  the  first  European  who  crossed  the 
Equinoctial  line,  on  the  western  ocean,  and  by  discovering 
the  great  kingdom  of  Brazil.* 


*  On  the  5th  of  September,  1501,  a  royal  permission  was  given  to  Vicente  Yanez 
Pinzon  to  colonize  and  govern  the  lands  he  had  discovered,  beginning  a  little  north 
of  the  river  Amazon,  and  extending  to  Cape  St.  Augustine.  The  object  of  the  gov 
ernment  in  this  permission  was  to  establish  an  outpost  and  a  resolute  commander 
on  this  southern  frontier,  that  should  check  any  intrusions  the  Portugese  might 
make  in  consequence  of  the  accidental  discovery  of  a  part  of  the  coast  of  Brazil  by 
Pedro  Alvarez  Cabral.  in  1500.  The  subsequent  arrangement  of  a  partition  line  be 
tween  the  two  countries  prevented  the  necessity  of  this  precaution,  and  it  does  not 
appear  that  Vicente  Yanez  Pinzon  made  any  second  voyage  to  those  parts. 

In  150(3  he  undertook  an  expedition  in  company  with  Juan  Diaz  de  Solis,  a  native 
of  Lebrija,  the  object  of  which  was  to  endeavour  to  find  the  strait  or  passage  sup 
posed  by  Columbus  to  lead  from  the  Atlantic  to  a  southern  ocean.  It  was  neces 
sarily  without  success,  as  was  also  another  voyage  made  by  them,  for  the  same 
purpose,  in  1508.  As  no  such  passage  exists,  no  blame  could  attach  to  those  able 
navigators  for  being  foiled  in  the  object  of  their  search. 

In  consequence  of  the  distinguished  merits  and  services  of  the  Pinzon  family  they 
were  raised,  by  the  emperor  Charles  V.,  to  the  dignity  of  a  Hidalguia,  or  nobility, 
without  any  express  title,  and  a  coat  of  arms  was  granted  them,  on  which  were 
emblazoned  three  caravels,  with  a  hand  at  the  stern  pointing  to  an  island  covered 
with  savages.  This  coat  of  arms  is  still  maintained  by  the  family,  who  have  added 
to  it  the  motto  granted  to  Columbus,  merely  substituting  the  nam«  of  Pinzon  for 
that  of  the  Admiral, 

A  Castile  y  a  Leon, 
Nuevo  Mundo  dio  Pinzon. 


32  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 


DIEGO  DE  LEPE  AND  RODRIGO  DE  BASTIDES. 

(1500.) 


NOTWITHSTANDING  the  hardships  and  disasters  that  had  heset 
the  voyages  to  the  New  World,  and  the  penury  in  which  their 
golden  anticipations  had  too  frequently  terminated,  adventur 
ers  continued  to  press  forward,  excited  by  fresh  reports  of 
newly-discovered  regions,  each  of  which,  in  its  turn  was  repre 
sented  as  the  real  land  of  promise.  Scarcely  had  Vicente 
Yaiiez  Pinzon  departed  on  the  voyage  recently  narrated,  when 
his  townsman,  Diego  de  Lepe,  likewise  set  sail  with  two 
vessels  from  the  busy  little  port  of  Palos  on  a  like  expedition. 
No  particulars  of  importance  are  known  of  this  voyage, 
excepting  that  Lepe  doubled  Cape  St.  Augustine,  and  beheld 
the  southern  continent  stretching  far  to  the  southwest.  On  re 
turning  to  Spain  he  drew  a  chart  of  the  coast  for  the  bishop 
Fonseca,  and  enjoyed  the  reputation,  for  upwards  of  ten  years 
afterwards,  of  having  extended  his  discoveries  further  south 
than  any  other  voyager. 

Another  contemporary  adventurer  to  the  New  World  was 
Eodrigo  de  Bastides,  a  wealthy  notary  of  Triana,  the  suburb  of 
Seville  inhabited  by  the  maritime  part  of  its  population.  Be 
ing  sanctioned  by  the  sovereigns,  to  whom  he  engaged  to 
yield  a  fourth  of  his  profits,  he  fitted  out  two  caravels  in  Octo 
ber,  1500,  to  go  in  quest  of  gold  and  pearls. 

Prudently  distrusting  his  own  judgment  in  nautical  matters, 
this  adventurous  notary  associated  with  him  the  veteran  pilot 
Juan  de  la  Cosa,  the  same  hardy  Biscayan  who  had  sailed 
with  Columbus  and  Ojeda.  A  general  outline  of  their  voyage 
has  already  been  given  in  the  life  of  Columbus ;  it  extended  the 
discoveries  of  the  coast  of  Terra  Firma  from  Cape  de  la  Vela, 
where  Ojeda  had  left  oif,  quite  to  the  port  of  Nombre  de  Dios. 

Bastides  distinguished  himself  from  the  mass  of  discoverers 
by  his  kind  treatment  of  the  natives,  and  Juan  de  la  Cosa  by 
his  .sound  discretion  and  his  able  seamanship.  Their  voyage 


DIEGO  DE  LEVK  AJD  RODRIGO  DE  BASTIDES.      33 

had  been  extremely  successful,  and  they  had  collected,  by 
barter,  a  great  amount  of  gold  and  pearls,  when  their  prosper 
ous  career  was  checked  by  an  unlooked-for  evil.  Their  vessels, 
to  their  surprise,  became  leaky  in  every  part,  and  they  discov 
ered,  to  their  dismay,  that  the  bottoms  were  pierced  in  innum 
erable  places  by  the  broma,  or  worm  which  abounds  in  the 
waters  of  the  torrid  zone,  but  of  which  they,  as  yet,  had 
scarcely  any  knowledge.  It  was  with  great  difficulty  they 
could  keep  afloat  until  they  reached  a  small  islet  on  the  coast 
of  Hispaniola.  Here  they  repaired  their  ships  as  well  as  they 
were  able,  and  again  put  to  sea  to  return  to  Cadiz.  A  succes 
sion  of  gales  drove  them  back  to  port ;  the  ravages  of  the 
worms  continued ;  the  leaks  broke  out  afresh ;  they  landed  the 
most  portable  and  precious  part  of  their  wealthy  cargoes,  and 
the  vessels  foundered  with  the  remainder.  Bastides  lost, 
moreover,  the  arms  and  ammunition  saved  from  the  wreck, 
being  obliged  to  destroy  them  lest  they  should  fall  into  the 
hands  of  the  Indians. 

Distributing  his  men.  into  three  bands,  two  of  them  headed 
by  La  Cosa  and  himself,  they  set  off  for  San  Domingo  by  three 
several  routes,  as  the  country  was  not  able  to  furnish  provis 
ions  for  so  large  a  body.  Each  band  was  provided  with  a 
coffer  stored  with  trinkets  and  other  articles  of  Indian  traffic, 
with  which  to  buy  provisions  on  the  road. 

Francisco  de  Bobadilla,  the  wrong-headed  oppressor  and 
superseder  of  Columbus,  was  at  that  time  governor  of  San  Do 
mingo.  The  report  reached  him  that  a  crew  of  adventurers  had 
landed  on  the  island,  and  were  marching  through  the  country 
in  three  bands,  each  provided  with  a  coffer  of  gold,  and  carry 
ing  on  illicit  trade  with  the  natives.  The  moment  Bastides 
made  his  appearance,  therefore,  he  was  seized  and  thrown  into 
prison,  and  an  investigation  commenced.  In  his  defence  he 
maintained  that  his  only  traffic  with  the  natives  was  for  the 
purpose  of  procuring  provisions  for  his  followers,  or  guides  for 
bis  journey.  It  was  determined,  however,  to  send  him  to 
Spain  for  trial,  with  the  written  testimony  and  the  other  docu 
ments  of  his  examination. 

He  was  accordingly  conveyed  in  the  same  fleet  in  which  Bo- 
babilla  embarked  for  Spain,  and  which  experienced  such  an 
awful  shipwreck  in  the  sight  of  Columbus.  The  ship  Rodrigo 
Bastides  was  one  of  the  few  that  outlived  the  tempest:  it 
arrived  safe  at  Cadiz  in  September,  1502.  Bastides  was  ulti 
mately  acquitted  of  the  charges  advanced  against  him.  So 


34  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

lucrative  had  been  his  voyage,  that,  notwithstanding  the  losses 
sustained  by  the  foundering  of  his  vessels,  he  was  enabled 
to  pay  a  large  sum  to  the  crown  as  a  fourth  of  his  profits, 
and  to  retain  a  great  amount  for  himself.  In  reward  of  his 
services  and  discoveries  the  sovereigns  granted  him  an  annual 
revenue  for  Life,  to  arise  from  the  proceeds  of  the  province  of 
Uraba,  which  he  had  discovered.  An  equal  pension  was  like 
wise  assigned  to  the  hardy  Juan  de  la  Cosa,  to  result  from  the 
same  territory,  of  which  he  was  appointed  Alguazil  Mayor.* 
Such  was  the  economical  generosity  of  King  Ferdinand,  who 
rewarded  the  past  toils  of  his  adventurous  discoverers  out 
of  the  expected  produce  of  their  future  labours. 

*  Navarrete.    Collec.  t.  iii. 


SECOND    VOYAGE  OF  ALONZO  DE  OJEDA.          35 


SECOND  VOYAGE   OF  ALONZO   DE   OJEDA 

(1502.) 


THE  first  voyage  of  Alonzo  de  Ojeda  to  the  coast  of  Paria, 
and  its  meagre  termination  in  June,  1500,  has  been  related. 
He  gained  nothing  in  wealth  by  that  expedition,  but  he  added 
to  his  celebrity  as  a  bold  and  skilful  adventurer.  His  youthful 
fire,  his  sanguine  and  swelling  spirit,  and  the  wonderful  stories 
that  were  told  of  his  activity  and  prowess,  made  him  extremely 
popular,  so  that  his  patron,  the  bishop  Fonseca,  found  it  an 
easy  matter  to  secure  for  him  the  royal  favour.  In  considera 
tion  of  his  past  services  and  of  others  expected  from  him,  a 
grant  was  made  to  him  of  six  leagues  of  land  on  the  southern 
part  of  Hispaniola,  and  the  government  of  the  province  of 
Coquibacoa  which  he  had  discovered.  He  was,  furthermore, 
authorized  to  fit  out  any  number  of  ships,  not  exceeding  ten, 
at  his  own  expense,  and  to  prosecute  the  discovery  of  the 
coast  of  Terra  Firma.  He  was  not  to  touch  or  traffic  on  the 
pearl  coast  of  Paria ;  extending  as  far  as  a  bay  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  island  of  Margarita.  Beyond  this  he  had  a  right  to 
trade  in  all  kinds  of  merchandise,  whether  of  pearls,  jewels, 
metals,  or  precious  stones ;  paying  one-fifth  of  the  profits  to 
the  crown,  and  abstaining  from  making  slaves  of  the  Indians 
without  a  special  license  from  the  sovereigns.  He  was  to  col 
onize  Coquibacoa,  and,  as  a  recompense,  was  to  enjoy  one-half 
of  the  proceeds  of  his  territory,  provided  the  half  did  not 
exceed  300,000  maravedies:  all  beyond  that  amount  was  to  go 
to  the  crown. 

A  principal  reason,  however,  for  granting  this  government 
and  those  privileges  to  Ojeda,  was  that,  in  his  previous  voyage, 
he  had  met  with  English  adventurers  on  a  voyage  of  discovery 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  Coquibacoa,  at  which  the  jealousy  of 
the  sovereigns  had  taken  the  alarm.  They  were  anxious, 
therefore,  to  establish  a  resolute  and  fighting  commander  like 
Ojeda  upon  this  outpost,  and  they  instructed  him  to  set  up  the 


36  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCO  VERf. 

arms  of  Castile  and  Leon  in  every  place  he  visited,  as  a  signal 
of  discovery  and  possession,  and  to  put  a  stop  to  the  intrusions 
of  the  English.* 

With  this  commission  in  his  pocket,  and  the  government  of 
an  Indian  territory  in  the  perspective,  Ojeda  soon  found  asso 
ciates  to  aid  him  in  fitting  out  an  armament.  These  were 
Juan  de  Vergara,  a  servant  of  a  rich  canon  of  the  cathedral  of 
Seville,  and  Garcia  de  Campos,  commonly  called  Ocampo. 
They  made  a  contract  of  partnership  to  last  for  two  years, 
according  to  which  the  expenses  and  profits  of  the  expedition, 
and  of  the  government  of  Coquibacoa,  were  to  be  shared 
equally  between  them.  The  purses  of  the  confederates  were 
not  ample  enough  to  afford  ten  ships,  but  they  fitted  out  four. 
1st,  The  Santa  Maria  de  la  Antigua,  commanded  by  Garcia  dd 
Campo;  2d,  The  Santa  Maria  de  la  Granada,  commanded  by 
Juan  de  Vergara ;  3d,  The  Caravel  Magdalena,  commanded  by 
Pedro  de  Ojeda,  nephew  to  Alonzo;  and  4th,  The  Caravel 
Santa  Ana,  commanded  by  Hernando  de  Guevara.  The 
whole  was  under  the  command  of  Alonzo  de  Ojeda.  The 
expedition  set  sail  in  1502,  touched  at  the  Canaries,  according 
to  custom,  to  take  in  provisions,  and  then  proceeded  westward 
for  the  shores  of  the  New  World. 

After  traversing  the  Gulf  of  Paria,  and  before  reaching  the 
Island  of  Margarita,  the  Caravel  Santa  Ana,  commanded  by 
Hernando  de  Guevara,  was  separated  from  them,  and  for  sev 
eral  days  the  ships  were  mutually  seeking  each  other,  in  these 
silent  and  trackless  seas.  After  they  were  all  reunited  they 
found  their  provisions  growing  scanty ;  they  landed  therefore 
at  a  part  of  the  coast  called  Cumana  by  the  natives,  but  to 
which,  from  its  beauty  and  fertility,  Ojeda  gave  the  name  of 
Valfermoso.  While  foraging  here  for  their  immediate  sup 
plies,  the  idea  occurred  to  Ojeda  that  he  should  want  furniture 
and  utensils  of  all  kinds  for  his  proposed  colony,  and  that  it 
would  be  better  to  pillage  them  from  a  country  where  he  was 
a  mere  transient  visitor,  than  to  r/rest  them  from  his  neigh 
bours  in  the  territory  where  he  was  to  set  up  his  government. 
His  companions  were  struck  with  the  policy,  if  not  the  justice, 
of  this  idea,  and  they  all  set  to  work  to  carry  it  into  execution. 
Dispersing  themselves,  therefore,  in  ambush  in  various  direc 
tions,  they  at  a  concerted  signal  rushed  forth  from  their  con 
cealment,  and  set  upon  the  natives.  Ojeda  had  issued  orders 

*  Navarrete,  t.  iii.,  document  x. 


8ECOSD    VOYAGE  OF  ALONZO  DE  OJEDA.  37 

to  do  as  little  injury  and  damage  as  possible,  and  on  no  ac 
count  to  destroy  the  habitations  of  the  Indians.  His  followers, 
however,  in  their  great  zeal,  transcended  his  orders.  Seven  or 
eight  Indians  were  killed  and  many  wounded  in  the  skirmish 
which  took  place,  and  a  number  of  their  cabins  were  wrapped 
in  flames.  A  great  quantity  of  hammocks,  of  cotton,  and  of 
utensils  of  various  kinds,  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  conquerors ; 
they  also  captured  several  female  Indians,  some  of  whom  were 
ransomed  with  the  kind  of  gold  called  guanin;  some  were 
retained  by  Vergara  for  himself  and  his  friend  Ocampo ;  others 
were  distributed  among  the  crews ;  the  rest,  probably  the  old 
and  ugly,  were  set  at  liberty.  As  to  Ojeda,  he  reserved  noth 
ing  for  himself  of  the  spoil  excepting  a  single  hammock. 

The  ransom  paid  by  the  poor  Indians  for  some  of  their  effects 
and  some  of  their  women,  yielded  the  Spaniards  a  trifling 
quantity  of  gold,  but  they  found  the  place  destitute  of  pro 
visions,  and  Ojeda  was  obliged  to  despatch  Vergara  in  a  cara 
vel  to  the  island  of  Jamaica  to  forage  for  supplies,  with 
instructions  to  rejoin  him  at  Maracaibo  or  Cape  de  la  Vela. 

Ojeda  at  length  arrived  at  Coquibacoa,  at  the  port  destined 
for  his  seat  of  government.  He  found  the  country,  however, 
so  poor  and  sterile,  that  he  proceeded  along  the  coast  to  a  bay 
which  he  named  Santa  Cruz,  but  which  is  supposed  to  be  the 
same  at  present  called  Bahia  Honda,  where  he  found  a  Span 
iard  who  had  been  left  in  the  province  of  Citarma  by  Bastides 
in  his  late  voyage  about  thirteen  months  before,  and  had  re 
mained  ever  since  among  the  Indians,  so  that  he  had  acquired 
their  language. 

Ojeda  determined  to  form  his  settlement  at  this  place ;  but 
the  natives  seemed  disposed  to  defend  their  territory,  for,  the 
moment  a  party  landed  to  procure  water,  they  were  assailed 
by  a  galling  shower  of  arrows,  and  driven  back  to  the  ships. 
Upon  this  Ojeda  landed  with  all  his  force,  and  struck  such 
terror  into  the  Indians,  that  they  came  forward  with  signs  of 
amity,  and  brought  a  considerable  quantity  of  gold  as  a  peace- 
offering,  which  was  graciously  accepted. 

Ojeda,  with  the  concurrence  of  his  associates,  now  set  to 
work  to  establish  a  settlement,  cutting  down  trees,  and  com 
mencing  a  fortress.  They  had  scarce  begun,  when  they  were 
attacked  by  a  neighbouring  cacique,  but  Ojeda  sallied  forth 
upon  him  with  such  intrepidity  and  effect  as  not  merely  to  de 
feat,  but  to  drive  him  from  the  neighbourhood.  He  then  pro 
ceeded  quietly  to  finish  his  fortress,  which  was  defended  by 


38  SPANISH   VOYAGES   OF  DISCOVERT. 

lombards,  and  contained  the  magazine  of  provisions  and  the 
treasure  amassed  in  the  expedition.  The  provisions  were 
dealt  out  twice  a  day,  under  the  inspection  of  proper  officers ; 
the  treasure  gained  by  barter,  by  ransom,  or  by  plunder,  was 
deposited  in  a  strong  box  secured  by  two  locks,  one  key  being 
kept  by  the  royal  supervisor,  the  other  by  Ocampo. 

In  the  mean  time  provisions  became  scarce.  The  Indians 
never  appeared  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  fortress,  except  to 
harass  it  with  repeated  though  ineffectual  assaults.  Vergara 
did  not  appear  with  the  expected  supplies  from  Jamaica,  and  a 
caravel  was  despatched  in  search  of  him.  The  people,  worn 
out  with  labour  and  privations  of  various  kinds,  and  dis 
gusted  with  the  situation  of  a  settlement,  which  was  in  a  poor 
and  unhealthy  country,  grew  discontented  and  factious.  They 
began  to  fear  that  they  should  lose  the  means  of  departing,  as 
their  vessels  were  in  danger  of  being  destroyed  by  the  broma 
or  worms.  Ojeda  led  them  forth  repeatedly  upon  foraging 
parties  about  the  adjacent  country,  and  collected  some  pro 
visions  and  booty  in  the  Indian  villages.  The  provisions  he 
deposited  in  the  magazine,  part  of  the  spoils  he  divided  among 
his  followers,  and  the  gold  he  locked  up  in  the  strong  box,  the 
keys  of  which  he  took  possession  of,  to  the  great  displeasure  of 
the  supervisor  and  his  associate  Ocampo.  The  murmurs  of  the 
people  grew  loud  as  their  sufferings  increased.  They  insinu 
ated  that  Ojeda  had  no  authority  over  this  part  of  the  coast, 
having  passed  tho  boundaries  of  his  government,  and  formed 
his  settlement  in  the  country  discovered  by  Bastides.  By  the 
time  Vergara  arrived  from  Jamaica,  the  factions  of  this  petty 
colony  had  risen  to  an  alarming  height.  Ocampo  had  a  per 
sonal  enmity  to  the  governor  arising  probably  from  some  feud 
about  the  strong  box ;  being  a  particular  friend  of  Vergara,  he 
held  a  private  conference  with  him,  and  laid  a  plan  to  entrap 
the  doughty  Ojeda.  In  pursuance  of  this  the  latter  was  in 
vited  on  board  of  the  caravel  of  Vergara  to  see  the  provisions 
he  had  brought  from  Jamaica,  but  no  sooner  was  he  on  board 
than  they  charged  him  with  having  transgressed  the  limits  of 
his  government,  with  having  provoked  the  hostility  of  the 
Indians,  and  needlessly  sacrificed  the  lives  of  his  followers, 
and  above  all,  with  having  taking  possession  of  the  strong  box, 
in  contempt  of  the  authority  of  the  royal  supervisor,  and  with 
the  intention  of  appropriating  to  himself  all  the  gains  of  the 
enterprise ;  they  informed  him,  therefore,  of  their  intention  to 
convey  him  a  prisoner  to  Hispaniola,  to  answer  to  tho  Gov- 


SECOND   VOYAGE  OF  ALONZO  DE  OJEDA.  39 

ernor  for  his  offences.  Ojeda  finding  himself  thus  entrapped, 
proposed  to  Vergara  and  Ocampo  that  they  should  return  to 
Spain  with  such  of  the  crews  as  chose  to  accompany  them, 
leaving  him  with  the  remainder  to  prosecute  his  enterprise. 
The  two  recreant  partners  at  first  consented,  for  they  were 
disgusted  with  the  enterprise,  which  offered  little  profit  and 
severe  hardships.  They  agreed  to  leave  Ojeda  the  smallest  of 
the  caravels,  with  a  third  of  the  provisions  and  of  their  gains, 
and  to  build  a  row  boat  for  him.  They  actually  began  to 
labour  upon  the  boat.  Before  ten  days  had  elapsed,  however, 
they  repented  of  the  arrangement,  the  ship-carpenters  were 
ill,  there  were  no  caulkers,  and  moreover,  they  recoUected  that 
as  Ojeda,  according  to  their  representations,  was  a  defaulter  to 
the  crown,  they  would  be  liable  as  his  sureties,  should  they  re 
turn  to  Spain  without  him.  They  concluded,  therefore,  that 
the  wisest  plan  was  to  give  him  nothing,  but  to  carry  him  off 
prisoner. 

When  Ojeda  learned  the  determination  of  his  wary  partners, 
he  attempted  to  make  his  escape  and  get  off  to  St.  Domingo, 
but  he  was  seized,  thrown  in  irons,  and  conveyed  on  board  of 
the  caravel.  The  two  partners  then  set  sail  from  Santa  Cruz, 
bearing  off  the  whole  community,  its  captive  governor,  and  the 
litigated  strong  box. 

They  put  to  sea  about  the  beginning  of  September,  and 
arrived  at  the  western  part  of  the  island  of  Hispaniola.  While 
at  anchor  within  a  stone's  throw  of  the  land,  Ojeda,  con 
fident  in  his  strength  and  skill  as  a  swimmer,  let  himself 
quietly  slide  down  the  side  of  the  ship  into  the  water  during 
the  night,  and  attempted  to  swim  for  the  shore.  His  arms 
were  free,  but  his  feet  were  shackled,  and  the  weight  of  his 
irons  threatened  to  sink  him.  He  was  obliged  to  shout  for 
help ;  a  boat  was  sent  from  the  vessel  to  his  relief,  and  the  un 
fortunate  governor  was  brought  back  half  drowned  to  his  un 
relenting  partners.* 

The  latter  now  landed  and  delivered  their  prisoner  into  the 
hands  of  Gallego,  the  commander  of  the  place,  to  be  put  at  the 
disposal  of  the  governor  of  the  island.  In  the  mean  time  the 
strong  box,  which  appears  to  have  been  at  the  bottom  of  all 
these  feuds,  remained  in  the  possession  of  Vergara  and  Ocam 
po,  who,  Ojeda  says,  took  from  it  whatever  they  thought 
proper,  without  regard  to  the  royal  dues  or  the  consent  of  the 

*  Hist.  Gen.  de  Viages.  Hen-era,  Hist.  Ind. 


40  SPANISH  VOTAQKS  OF  DISCOVERT. 

royal  supervisor.  They  were  all  together,  prisoner  and  ac 
cusers,  in  the  city  of  San  Domingo,  about  the  end  of  Septem 
ber  1502,  when  the  chief  judge  of  the  island,  after  hearing 
both  parties,  gave  a  verdict  against  Ojeda  that  stripped  him 
of  all  his  effects,  and  brought  him  into  debt  to  the  crown  for 
the  royal  proportion  of  the  profits  of  the  voyage.  Ojeda  ap 
pealed  to  the  sovereign,  and,  after  some  time,  was  honour 
ably  acquitted,  by  the  royal  council,  from  all  the  charges,  and 
a  mandate  was  issued  in  1503,  ordering  a  restitution  of  his 
property.  It  appears,  however,  that  the  costs  of  justice, 
or  rather  of  the  law,  consumed  his  share  of  the  treasure  of 
the  strong  box,  and  that  a  royal  order  was  necessary  to  libe 
rate  him  from  the  hands  of  the  governor;  so  that,  like  too 
many  other  litigants,  he  finally  emerged  from  the  labyrinths 
of  the  law  a  triumphant  client  but  a  ruined  man. 


THIRD    VOYAGE  OF  ALONZO  DE  OJEDA.  41 


THIRD  VOYAGE  OF  ALONZO  DE  OJEDA. 


CHAPTER  I. 

OJEDA  APPLIES  FOR    A  COMMAND — HAS    A    RIVAL    CANDIDATE    IN 
DIEGO  DE  NICUESA— HIS  SUCCESS. 

FOR  several  years  after  his  ruinous,  though  successful  law 
suit,  we  lose  all  traces  of  Alonzo  de  Ojeda,  excepting  that  we 
are  told  he  made  another  voyage  to  the  vicinity  of  Coquibacoa, 
in  1505.  No  record  remains  of  this  expedition,  which  seems  to 
have  been  equally  unprofitable  with  the  preceding,  for  we  find 
him,  in  1508,  in  the  island  of  Hispaniola,  as  poor  in  purse, 
though  as  proud  in  spirit,  as  ever.  In  fact,  however  fortune 
might  have  favoured  him,  he  had  a  heedless,  squandering  dis 
position  that  would  always  have  kept  him  poor. 

About  this  time  the  cupidity  of  King  Ferdinand  was  greatly 
excited  by  the  accounts  which  had  been  given  by  Columbus,  of 
the  gold  mines  of  Veragua,  in  which  the  admiral  fancied  he 
had  discovered  the  Aurea  Chersonesus  of  the  ancients,  from 
Avhence  King  Solomon  procured  the  gold  used  in  building  the 
temple  of  Jerusalem.  Subsequent  voyagers  had  corroborated 
the  opinion  of  Columbus  as  to  the  general  riches  of  the  coast 
of  Terra  Firma ;  King  Ferdinand  resolved,  therefore,  to  found 
regular  colonies  along  that  coast  and  to  place  the  whole  under 
some  capable  commander.  A  project  of  the  kind  had  been 
conceived  by  Columbus,  when  he  discovered  that  region  in  the 
course  of  his  last  voyage,  and  the  reader  may  remember  the 
disasters  experienced  by  his  brother  Don  Bartholomew  and 
himself,  in  endeavouring  to  establish  a  colony  on  the  hostile 
shores  of  Veragua.  The  admiral  being  dead,  the  person  who 
should  naturally  have  presented  himself  to  the  mind  of  the 
sovereign  for  this  particular  service  was  Don  Bartholomew, 
but  the  wary  and  selfish  monarch  knew  the  Adelantado  to  be 
as  lofty  in  his  terms  as  his  late  brother,  and  preferred  to  accom 
plish  his  purposes  by  cheaper  agents.  He  was  unwilling,  also, 


42  SPANISH   VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

to  increase  the  consequence  of  a  family,  whose  vast,  but  just, 
claims  were  already  a  cause  of  repining  to  his  sordid  and  jeal 
ous  spirit.  He  looked  round,  therefore,  among  the  crowd  of 
adventurers,  who  had  sprung  up  in  the  school  of  Cclumbus, 
for  some  individual  who  might  be  ready  to  serve  him  on  more 
accommodating  terms.  Among  those,  considered  by  their 
friends  as  most  fitted  for  this  purpose,  was  Alonzo  de  Ojeda,  for 
his  roving  voyages  and  daring  exploits  had  made  him  famous 
among  the  voyagers ;  and  it  was  thought  that  an  application 
on  his  part  would  be  attended  with  success,  for  he  was  known 
to  possess  a  staunch  friend  at  court  in  the  Bishop  Fonseca. 
Unfortunately  he  was  too  far  distant  to  urge  his  suit  to  the 
bishop,  and  what  was  worse,  he  was  destitute  of  money.  At 
this  juncture  there  happened  to  be  at  Hispaniola  the  veteran 
navigator  and  pilot,  Juan  de  la  Cosa,  who  was  a  kind  of  Nestor 
in  all  nautical  affairs.*  The  hardy  Biscayan  had  sailed  with 
Ojeda,  and  had  conceived  a  great  opinion  of  the  courage  and 
talents  of  the  youthful  adventurer.  He  had  contrived,  also,  to 
fill  his  purse  in  the  course  of  his  cruising,  and  now,  in  the  gen 
erous  spirit  of  a  sailor,  offered  to  aid  Ojeda,  with  it  in  the 
prosecution  of  his  wishes. 

His  offer  was  gladly  accepted ;  it  was  agreed  that  Juan  de  la 
Cosa  should  depart  for  Spain,  to  promote  the  appointment  of 
Ojeda  to  the  command  of  Terra  Firma,  and,  in  case  of  success, 
should  fit  out,  with  his  own  funds,  the  necessary  armament. 

La  Cosa  departed  on  his  embassy ;  he  called  on  the  Bishop 
Fonseca,  who,  as  had  been  expected,  entered  warmly  into  the 
views  of  his  favourite,  Ojeda,  and  recommended  him  to  the 
ambitious  and  bigot  king,  as  a  man  well  fitted  to  promote  his 
empire  in  the  wilderness,  and  to  dispense  the  blessings  of  Chris 
tianity  among  the  savages. 

The  recommendation  of  the  bishop  was  usually  effectual  in 
the  affairs  of  the  New  World,  and  the  opinion  of  the  veteran 
de  la  Cosa  had  great  weight  even  with  the  sovereign ;  but  a 

*  Peter  Martyr  gives  the  following  weighty  testimony  to  the  knowledge  and  skill 
of  this  excellent  seaman: — "Of  the  Spaniards,  as  many  as  thought  themselves  to 
have  any  knowledge  of  what  pertained  to  measure  the  land  and  sea,  drew  cardes 
(charts)  on  parchment  as  concerning  these  navigations.  Of  all  others  they  most 
esteem  them  which  Juan  de  la  Cosa,  the  companion  of  Ojeda,  and  another  pilot, 
called  Andres  Morales,  had  set  forth,  and  this  as  well  for  the  great  experience 
which  both  had,  (to  whom  these  tracks  were  as  well  known  as  the  chambers  of  their 
own  houses,)  as  also  that  they  were  thought  to  be  cunninger  in  that  part  of  cos 
mography  which  teacheth  the  description  and  measuring  of  the  sea." — P.  Martyr, 
Decad.  ii.  c.  10. 


THIRD    VOYAGE  OF  ALONZO  DE  OJEDA.  43 

rival  candidate  to  Ojeda  had  presented  himself,  and  one  who 
had  the  advantage  of  higher  connexions  and  greater  pecuniary 
means.  This  was  Diego  de  Nicuesa,  an  accomplished  courtier 
of  noble  birth,  who  had  filled  the  post  of  grand  carver  to  Don 
Enrique  Enriquez,  uncle  of  the  king.  Nature,  education,  and 
habit  seemed  to  have  combined  to  form  Nicuesa  as  a  complete 
rival  of  Ojeda,  Like  him  he  was  small  of  stature,  but  remark 
able  for  symmetry  and  compactness  of  form  and  for  bodily 
strength  and  activity ;  like  him  he  was  master  at  all  kinds  of 
weapons,  and  skilled,  not  merely  in  feats  of  agility  but  in  those 
graceful  and  chivalrous  exercises,  which  the  Spanish  cavaliers 
of  those  days  had  inherited  from  the  Moors;  being  noted  for 
his  vigour  and  address  in  the  jousts  or  tilting  matches  after  the 
Moresco  fashion.  Ojeda  himself  could  not  surpass  him  in  feats 
of  horsemanship,  and  particular  mention  is  made  of  a  favourite 
mare,  which  he  could  make  caper  and  carricol  in  strict  cadence 
to  the  sound  of  a  viol ;  beside  all  this,  he  was  versed  in  the 
legendary  ballads  or  romances  of  his  country,  and  was  renowned 
as  a  capital  performer  on  the  guitar !  Such  were  the  qualifica 
tions  of  this  candidate  for  a  command  in  the  wilderness,  as 
enumerated  by  the  reverend  Bishop  Las  Casas.  It  is  probable, 
however,  that  he  had  given  evidence  of  qualities  more  adapted 
to  the  desired  post ;  having  already  been  out  to  Hispaniola  in 
the  military  train  of  the  late  Governor  Ovando. 

Where  merits  were  so  singularly  balanced  as  those  of  Ojeda 
and  Nicuesa,  it  might  have  been  difficult  to  decide ;  King  Ferdi 
nand  avoided  the  dilemma  by  favouring  both  of  the  candidates ; 
not  indeed  by  furnishing  them  with  ships  and  money,  but  by 
granting  patents  and  dignities  which  cost  nothing,  and  might 
bring  rich  returns. 

He  divided  that  part  of  the  continent  which  lies  along  the 
Isthmus  of  Darien  into  two  provinces,  the  boundary  line  run 
ning  through  the  Gulf  of  Uraba.  The  eastern  part,  extending 
to  Cape  de  la  Vela,  was  called  New  Andalusia,  the  government 
of  it  given  to  Ojeda.  The  other,  to  the  west,  including  Veragua, 
and  reaching  .to  Cape  Gracias  a  Dios,  was  assigned  to  Nicuesa. 
The  island  of  Jamaica  was  given  to  the  two  governors  in  com 
mon,  as  a  place  from  whence  to  draw  supplies  of  provisions. 
Each  of  the  governors  was  to  erect  two  fortresses  in  his  dis 
trict,  and  to  enjoy  for  ten  years  the  profits  of  all  the  mines  he 
should  discover,  paying  to  the  crown  one-tenth  part  the  first 
year,  one-ninth  the  second,  one-eighth  the  third,  one-seventh 
the  fourth,  and  one-fifth  part  in  each  of  the  remaining  years. 


44  SPANISH   VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

Juan  de  la  Cosa,  who  had  been  indefatigable  in  promoting 
the  suit  of  Ojeda,  was  appointed  his  lieutenant  in  the  govern 
ment,  with  the  post  of  Alguazil  Mayor  of  the  province.  He 
immediately  freighted  a  ship  and  two  brigantines,  in  which  he 
embarked  with  about  two  hundred  men.  It  was  a  slender 
armament,  but  the  purse  of  the  honest  voyager  was  not  very 
deep,  and  that  of  Ojeda  was  empty.  Nicuesa,  having  ampler 
means,  armed  four  large  vessels  and  two  brigantines,  furnished 
them  with  abundant  munitions  and  supplies,  both  for  the  voy 
age  and  the  projected  colony,  enlisted  a  much  greater  force, 
and  set  sail  in  gay  and  vaunting  style,  for  the  golden  shores  ot 
Veragua,  the  Aurea  Chersonesus  of  his  imagination. 


CHAPTER  II. 

FEUD  BETWEEN  THE    RIVAL    GOVERNORS,    OJEDA    AND    NICUESA— 
A  CHALLENGE. — (1509.) 

THE  two  rival  armaments  arrived  at  San  Domingo  about  the 
same  time.  Nicuesa  had  experienced  what  was  doubtless  con 
sidered  a  pleasant  little  turn  of  fortune  by  the  way.  Touching 
at  Santa  Cruz,  one  of  the  Carribee  islands,  he  had  succeeded  in 
capturing  a  hundred  of  the  natives,  whom  he  had  borne  off  in 
his  ships  to  be  sold  as  slaves  at  Hispaniola.  This  was  deemed 
justifiable  in  those  days,  even  by  the  most  scrupulous  divines, 
from  the  belief  that  the  Caribs  were  all  anthropophagi,  or 
man-eaters ;  fortunately  the  opinion  of  mankind,  in  this  more 
enlightened  age,  makes  but  little  difference  in  atrocity  between 
the  cannibal  and  the  kidnapper. 

Alonzo  de  Ojeda  welcomed  with  joy  the  arrival  of  his  nau 
tical  friend  and  future  lieutenant  in  the  government,  the 
worthy  Juan  de  la  Cosa ;  still  he  could  not  but  feel  some  mor 
tification  at  the  inferiority  of  his  armament  to  that  of  his  rival 
Nicuesa,  whose  stately  ships  rode  proudly  at  anchor  in  the 
harbour  of  San  Domingo.  He  felt,  too,  that  his  means  were 
inadequate  to  the  establishment  of  his  intended  colony. 
Ojeda,  however,  was  not  long  at  a  loss  for  pecuniary  assist 
ance.  Like  many  free-spirited  men,  who  are  careless  and 
squandering  of  their  own  purses,  he  had  a  facility  at  com 
manding  the  purses  of  his  neighbours.  Among  the  motley 
population  of  San  Domingo  there  was  a  lawyer  of  some  abili* 


THIRD    VOYAGE  OF  ALONZO  DE  OJEDA.  43 

ties,  the  Bachelor  Martin  Fernandez  de  Enciso,  who  had  made 
two  thousand  castillanos  by  his  pleading  ;*  for  it  would  appear 
that  the  spirit  of  litigation  was  one  of  the  first  fruits  of  civilized 
life  transplanted  to  the  New  World,  and  nourished  surprisingly 
among  the  Spanish  colonists. 

Alonzo  de  Ojeda  became  acquainted  with  the  Bachelor,  and 
finding  him  to  be  of  a  restless  and  speculative  character,  soon 
succeeded  in  inspiring  him  with  a  contempt  for  the  dull  but 
secure  and  profitable  routine  of  his  office  in  San  Domingo,  and 
imbuing  him  with  his  own  passion  for  adventure.  Above  all, 
he  dazzled  him  with  the  offer  to  make  him  Alcalde  Mayor,  or 
chief  judge  of  the  provincial  government  he  was  about  to 
establish  in  the  wilderness. 

In  an  evil  hour  the  aspiring  Bachelor  yielded  to  the  tempta 
tion,  and  agreed  to  invest  all  his  money  in  the  enterprise.  It 
was  agreed  that  Ojeda  should  depart  with  the  armament  which 
had  arrived  from  Spain,  while  the  Bachelor  should  remain  at 
Hispaniola  to  beat  up  for  recruits  and  provide  supplies ;  with 
these  he  was  to  embark  in  a  ship  purchased  by  himself,  and 
proceed  to  join  his  high-mettled  friend  at  the  seat  of  his  in 
tended  colony.  Two  rival  governors,  so  well  matched  as 
Ojeda  and  Nicuesa,  and  both  possessed  of  swelling  spirits,  pent 
up  in  small  but  active  bodies,  could  not  remain  long  in  a  little 
place  like  San  Domingo  without  some  collision.  The.  island  of 
Jamaica,  which  had  been  assigned  to  them  in  common,  fur 
nished  the  first  ground  of  contention ;  the  province  of  Darien 
furnished  another,  each  pretending  to  include  it  within  the 
limits  of  his  jurisdiction.  Their  disputes  on  these  points  ran 
so  high  that  the  whole  place  resounded  with  them.  In  talk 
ing,  however,  Nicuesa  had  the  advantage;  having  been 
brought  up  in  the  court,  he  was  more  polished  and  ceremoni 
ous,  had  greater  self-command,  and  probably  perplexed  his 
rival  governor  in  argument.  Ojeda  was  no  great  casuist,  but 
he  was  an  excellent  swordsman,  and  always  ready  to  fight  his 
way  through  any  question  of  right  or  dignity  which  he  could 
not  clearly  argue  with  the  tongue ;  so  he  proposed  to  settle  the 
dispute  by  single  combat.  Nicuesa,  though  equally  brave, 
was  more  a  man  of  the  world,  and  saw  the  folly  of  such  arbit 
rament.  Secretly  smiling  at  the  heat  of  his  antagonist,  he 
proposed,  as  a  preliminary  to  the  duel,  and  to  furnish  some 
thing  worth  fighting  for,  that  each  should  deposit  five  thou- 

*  Equivalent  to  10,650  dollars  of  the  present  day. 


46  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERT. 

sand  castillanos,  to  be  the  prize  of  the  victor.  This,  as  he 
foresaw,  was  a  temporary  check  upon  the  fiery  valour  of  his 
rival,  who  did  not  possess  a  pistole  in  his  treasury,  but  prob 
ably  was  too  proud  to  confess  it. 

It  is  not  likely,  however,  that  the  impetuous  spirit  of  Ojeda 
would  long  have  remained  in  check,  had  not  the  discreet  Juan 
de  la  Cosa  interposed  to  calm  it.  It  is  interesting  to  notice  the 
great  ascendency  possessed  by  this  veteran  navigator  over  his 
fiery  associate.  Juan  de  la  Cosa  was  a  man  whose  strong 
natural  good  sense  had  been  quickened  by  long  and  hard 
experience;  whose  courage  was  above  all  question,  but  tem 
pered  by  time  and  trial.  He  seems  to  have  been  personally 
attached  to  Ojeda,  as  veterans  who  have  outlived  the  rash  im 
pulse  of  youthful  valour  are  apt  to  love  the  fiery  quality  in 
their  younger  associates.  So  long  as  he  accompanied  Ojeda  in 
Ms  enterprises,  he  stood  by  him  as  a  Mentor  in  council,  and  a 
devoted  partisan  in  danger. 

In  the  present  instance  the  interference  of  this  veteran  of  the 
seas  had  the  most  salutary  effect ;  he  prevented  the  impending 
duel  of  the  rival  governors,  and  persuaded  them  to  agree  that 
the  river  Darien  should  be  the  boundary  line  between  their 
respective  jurisdictions. 

The  dispute  relative  to  Jamaica  was  settled  by  the  Admiral 
Don  Diego  Columbus  himself.  He  had  already  felt  aggrieved 
by  the  distribution  of  these  governments  by  the  king,  without 
his  consent  or  even  knowledge,  being  contrary  to  the  privileges 
which  he  inherited  from  his  father,  the  discoverer.  It  was  in 
vain  to  contend,  however,  when  the  matter  was  beyond  his 
reach  and  involved  in  technical  disputes.  But  as  to  the  island 
of  Jamaica,  it  in  a  manner  lay  at  his  own  door,  and  he  could 
not  brook  its  being  made  a  matter  of  gift  to  these  brawling 
governors.  Without  waiting  the  slow  and  uncertain  course  of 
making  remonstrances  to  the  king,  he  took  the  affair,  as  a 
matter  of  plain  right,  into  his  own  hands  and  ordered  a  brave 
officer,  Juan  de  Esquibel,  the  same  who  had  subjugated  the 
province  of  Higuey,  to  take  possession  of  that  island,  with 
seventy  men,  and  to  hold  it  subject  to  his  command. 

Ojeda  did  not  hear  of  this  arrangement  until  he  was  on  the 
point  of  embarking  to  make  sail.  In  the  heat  of  the  moment 
he  loudly  defied  the  power  of  the  admiral,  and  swore  that  if  he 
ever  found  Juan  de  Esquibel  on  the  island  of  Jamaica  he  would 
strike  off  his  head.  The  populace  present  heard  this  menace, 
and  had  too  thorough  an  idea  of  the  fiery  and  daring  character 


THIRD    VOYAGE  OF  ALONZO  DE  OJKDA.  47 

of  Ojeda  to  doubt  that  he  would  carry  it  into  effect.  Notwith 
standing  his  bravado,  however,  Juan  de  Esquibel  proceeded 
according  to  his  orders  to  take  possession  of  the  island  of 
Jamaica. 

The  squadron  of  Nicuesa  lingered  for  some  time  after  the 
sailing  of  his  rival.  His  courteous  and  engaging  manners, 
aided  by  the  rumour  of  great  riches  in  the  province  of  Vera- 
gua,  where  he  intended  to  found  his  colony,  had  drawn  numer 
ous  volunteers  to  his  standard,  insomuch  that  he  had  to  pur 
chase  another  ship  to  convey  them. 

Nicuesa  was  more  of  the  courtier  and  the  cavalier  than  the 
man  of  business,  and  had  no  skill  in  managing  his  pecuniary 
affairs.  He  had  expended  his  funds  with  a  free  and  lavish 
hand,  and  involved  himself  in  debts  which  he  had  not  the  im 
mediate  means  of  paying.  Many  of  his  creditors  knew  that 
his  expedition  was  regarded  with  an  evil  eye  by  the  Admiral, 
Don  Diego  Columbus ;  to  gain  favour  with  the  latter,  therefore, 
they  threw  all  kinds  of  impediments  in  the  way  of  Nicuesa. 
Never  WP.S  an  unfortunate  gentleman  more  harassed  and  dis 
tracted  by  duns  and  demands,  one  plucking  at  his  skirts  as 
soon  as  the  other  was  satisfied.  He  succeeded,  however,  in 
getting  all  his  forces  embarked.  He  had  seven  hundred  men, 
well  chosen  and  well  armed,  together  with  six  horses.  He 
chose  Lope  de  Olano  to  be  his  captain-general,  a  seemingly 
impolitic  appointment,  as  this  Olano  had  been  concerned  with 
the  notorious  Roldan  in  his  rebellion  against  Columbus. 

The  squadron  sailed  out  of  the  harbour  and  put  to  sea,  ex 
cepting  one  ship,  which,  with  anchor  a-trip  and  sails  unfurled, 
waited  to  receive  Nicuesa,  who  was  detained  on  shore  until 
the  last  moment  by  the  perplexities  which  had  been  artfuDy 
multiplied  around  him. 

Just  as  he  was  on  the  point  of  stepping  into  his  boat  he 
was  arrested  by  the  harpies  of  the  law,  and  carried  before  the 
Alcalde  Mayor  to  answer  a  demand  for  five  hundred  ducats, 
which  he  was  ordered  to  pay  on  the  spot,  or  prepare  to  go  to 
prison. 

This  was  a  thunderstroke  to  the  unfortunate  cavalier.  In 
vain  he  represented  his  utter  incapacity  to  furnish  such  a  sum 
at  the  moment ;  in  vain  he  represented  the  ruin  that  would 
accrue  to  himself  and  the  vast  injury  to  the  public  service, 
should  he  be  prevented  from  joining  his  expedition.  The  Al 
calde  Mayor  was  inflexible,  and  Nicuesa  was  reduced  to  de 
spair.  At  this  critical  moment  relief  came  from  a  most  unex- 


48  SPANISH   VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERT. 

pected  quarter.  The  heart  of  a  public  notary  was  melted  by 
his  distress !  He  stepped  forward  in  court  and  declared  that 
rather  than  see  so  gallant  a  gentleman  reduced  to  extremity 
he  himself  would  pay  down  the  money.  Nicuesa  gazed  at  him 
with  astonishment,  and  could  scarcely  believe  his  senses,  but 
when  he  saw  him  actually  pay  off  the  debt,  and  found  himself 
suddenly  released  from  this  dreadful  embarrassment,  he  em 
braced  his  deliverer  with  tears  of  gratitude,  and  hastened  with 
all  speed  to  embark,  lest  some  other  legal  spell  should  be  laid 
upon  his  person. 


CHAPTEE  III. 

EXPLOITS  AND    DISASTERS  OF    OJEDA  ON  THE  COAST  OF  CARTHA- 
GENA— FATE  OF  THE  VETERAN  JUAN  DE  LA  COSA.  — (1509.) 

IT  was  on  the  10th  of  November,  1509,  that  Alonzo  de  Ojeda, 
set  sail  from  San  Domingo  with  two  ships,  two  brigantines, 
and  three  hundred  men.  He  took  with  him  also  twelve  brood 
mares.  Among  the  remarkable  adventurers  who  embarked 
with  him  was  Francisco  Pizarro,  who  was  afterwards  re 
nowned  as  the  conqueror  of  Peru.*  Hernando  Cortez  had  like 
wise  intended  to  sail  in  the  expedition,  but  was  prevented  by 
an  inflammation  in  one  of  his  knees. 

The  voyage  was  speedy  and  prosperous,  and  they  arrived  late 
in  the  autumn  in  the  harbour  of  Carthagena.  The  veteran 
Juan  de  la  Cosa  was  well  acquainted  with  this  place,  having 
sailed  as  pilot  with  Rodrigo  de  Bastides,  at  the  time  he  discov 
ered  it  in  1501.  He  warned  Alonzo  de  Ojeda  to  be  upon  his 
guard,  as  the  natives  were  a  brave  and  warlike  race,  of  Carib 

*  Francisco  Pizarro  was  a  native  of  Truxillo  in  Estremadura.  He  was  the  ille 
gitimate  fruit  of  an  amour  between  Gonsalvo  Pizarro,  a  veteran  captain  of  in 
fantry,  and  a  damsel  in  low  life.  His  childhood  was  passed  in  grovelling  occu 
pations  incident  to  the  humble  condition  of  his  mother,  and  he  is  said  to  have 
been  a  swineherd.  When  he  had  sufficiently  increased  in  years  and  stature  he  en 
listed  as  a  soldier.  His  first  campaigns  may  have  been  against  the  Moors  in  the 
war  of  Granada.  He  certainly  served  in  Italy  under  the  banner  of  the  Great  Cap 
tain,  Gonsalvo  of  Cordova.  His  roving  spirit  then  induced  him  to  join  the  bands 
of  adventurers  to  the  New  World.  He  was  of  ferocious  courage,  and,  when  en 
gaged  in  any  enterprise,  possessed  an  obstinate  perseverance  that  was  neither  to 
be  deterred  by  danger,  weakened  by  fatigue  and  hardship,  or  checked  by  repeated 
disappointment.  After  having  conquered  the  great  kingdom  of  Peru,  he  was  as 
sassinated,  at  an  advanced  age,  in  1541,  defending  himself_bravely  to  the  last. 


THIRD    VOYAGE  OF  ALONZO  DE  OJEDA.  49 

origin,  far  different  from  the  soft  and  gentle  inhabitants  of  the 
islands.  They  wielded  great  swords  of  palm-wood,  defended 
themselves  with  osier  targets,  and  dipped  their  arrows  in  the 
subtle  poison.  The  women,  as  well  as  the  men,  mingled  in  bat 
tle,  being  expert  in  drawing  the  bow  and  throwing  a  species  of 
lance  called  the  azagay.  The  warning  was  well  timed,  for  the 
Indians  of  these  parts  had  been  irritated  by  the  misconduct  of 
previous  adventurers,  and  flew  to  arms  on  the  first  appearance 
of  the  ships. 

Juan  de  la  Cosa  now  feared  for  the  safety  of  the  enterprise 
in  which  he  had  person,  fortune,  and  official  dignity  at  stake. 
He  earnestly  advised  Ojeda  to  abandon  this  dangerous  neigh 
bourhood,  and  to  commence  a  settlement  in  the  guK  of  Uraba, 
where  the  people  were  less  ferocious,  and  did  not  use  poisoned 
weapons.  Ojeda  was  too  proud  of  spirit  to  alter  his  plans 
through  fear  of  a  naked  foe.  It  is  thought,  too,  that  he  had 
no  objection  to  a  skirmish,  being  desirous  of  a  pretext  to  make 
slaves  to  be  sent  to  Hispaniola  in  discharge  of  the  debts  he 
had  left  unpaid.*  He  landed,  therefore,  with  a  considerable 
part  of  his  force,  and  a  number  of  friars,  who  had  been  sent 
out  to  convert  the  Indians.  His  faithful  lieutenant,  being  un 
able  to  keep  him  out  ot  danger,  stood  by  to  second  him. 

Ojeda  advanced  towards  the  savages,  and  ordered  the  friars 
to  read  aloud  a  certain  formula  which  had  recently  been  di 
gested  by  profound  jurists  and  divines  in  Spain.  It  began  in 
stately  form.  "I,  Alonzo  de  Ojeda,  servant  of  the  most  high 
and  mighty  sovereigns  of  Castile  and  Leon,  conquerors  of  bar 
barous  nations,  their  messenger  and  captain,  do  notify  unto 
you,  and  make  you  know,  in  the  best  way  I  can,  that  God  our 
Lord,  one  and  eternal,  created  the  heaven  and  the  earth,  and 
one  man  and  one  woman,  from  whom  you  and  we,  and  all  the 
people  of  the  earth  proceeded,  and  are  descendants,  as  well  as 
those  who  shall  come  hereafter."  The  formula  then  went  on 
to  declare  the  fundamental  principles  of  the  Catholic  Faith: 
the  supreme  power  given  to  St.  Peter  over  the  world  and  all 
the  human  race,  and  exercised  by  his  representative  the  pope ; 
the  donation  made  by  a  late  pope  of  all  this  part  of  the  world 
and  all  its  inhabitants,  to  the  Catholic  sovereigns  of  Castile; 
and  the  ready  obedience  which  had  already  been  paid  by  many 
of  its  lands  and  islands  and  people  to  the  agents  and  represent 
atives  of  those  sovereigns.  It  called  upon  those  savages  pre&. 

*Las  Casas.    Hist.  Ind.  1.  ii.  c-  57,  MS 


50  SPANISH   VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

ent,  therefore,  to  do  the  same,  to  acknowledge  the  truth  of  the 
Christian  doctrines,  the  supremacy  of  the  pope,  and  the  sov 
ereignty  of  the  Catholic  King,  but,  in  case  of  refusal,  it  de 
nounced  upon  them  all  the  horrors  of  war,  the  desolation  of 
their  dwellings,  the  seizure  of  their  property,  and  the  slavery 
of  their  wives  and  children.  Such  was  the  extraordinary  doc 
ument,  which,  from  this  time  forward,  was  read  by  the  Span 
ish  discoverers  to  the  wondering  savages  of  any  newly-found 
country,  as  a  prelude  to  sanctify  the  violence  about  to  be  in 
flicted  on  them.* 

When  the  friars  had  read  this  pious  manifesto,  Ojeda  made 
signs  of  amity  to  the  natives,  and  held  up  glittering  presents ; 
they  had  already  suffered,  however,  from  the  cruelties  of  the 
white  men,  and  were  not  to  be  won  by  kindness.  On  the  con 
trary,  they  brandished  their  weapons,  sounded  their  conchs, 
and  prepared  to  make  battle. 

Juan  de  la  Cosa  saw  the  rising  choler  of  Ojeda,  and  knew  his 
fiery  impatience.  He  again  entreated  him  to  abandon  these 
hostile  shores,  and  reminded  him  of  the  venomous  weapons  of 
the  enemy.  It  was  all  in  vain :  Ojeda  confided  blindly  in  the 
protection  of  the  Virgin.  Putting  up,  as  usual,  a  short  prayer 
to  his  patroness,  he  drew  his  weapon,  braced  his  buckler,  and 
charged  furiously  upon  the  savages.  Juan  de  la  Cosa  followed 
as  heartily  as  if  the  battle  had  been  of  his  own  seeking.  The 
Indians  were  soon  routed,  a  number  killed,  and  several  taken 
prisoners ;  on  their  persons  were  found  plates  of  gold,  but  of  an 
inferior  quality.  Flushed  by  this  triumph,  Ojeda  took  several 
of  the  prisoners  as  guides,  and  pursued  the  flying  enemy  four 
leagues  into  the  interior.  He  was  followed,  as  usual,  by  his 
faithful  lieutenant,  the  veteran  La  Cosa,  continually  remon 
strating  against  his  useless  temerity,  but  hardily  seconding 
him  in  the  most  hare-brained  perils.  Having  penetrated  far 
into  the  forest,  they  came  to  a  strong-hold  of  the  enemy,  where 
a  numerous  force  was  ready  to  receive  them,  armed  with  clubs, 
lances,  arrows,  and  bucklers.  Ojeda  led  his  men  to  the  charge 
with  the  old  Castilian  war  cry>  "Santiago !"  The  savages  soon 
took  to  flight.  Eight  of  their  bravest  warriors  threw  them 
selves  into  a  cabin,  and  plied  their  bows  and  arrows  so  vigor 
ously,  that  the  Spaniards  were  kept  at  bay.  Ojeda  cried  shame 
upon  his  followers  to  be  daunted  by  eight  naked  men.  Stung 


*  The  reader  will  find  the  complete  form  of  this  curious  manifesto  in  the 
pendix. 


THIRD    VOYAGE  OF  ALO.NZO  DE  OJEDA.  51 

by  this  reproach,  an  old  Castilian  soldier  rushed  through  a 
shower  of  arrows,  and  forced  the  door  of  the  cabin,  but  re 
ceived  a  shaft  through  the  heart,  and  fell  dead  on  the  thresh 
old.  Ojeda,  furious  at  the  sight,  ordered  fire  to  be  set  to  the 
combustible  edifice ;  in  a  moment  it  was  in  a  blaze,  and  the 
eight  warriors  perished  in  the  flames. 

Seventy  Indians  were  made  captive  and  sent  to  the  ships, 
and  Ojeda,  regardless  of  the  remonstrances  of  Juan  de  la  Cosa, 
continued  his  rash  pursuit  of  the  fugitives  through  the  forest. 
In  the  dusk  of  the  evening  they  arrived  at  a  village  called 
Yurbaco ;  the  inhabitants  of  which  had  fled  to  the  mountains 
with  their  wives  and  children  and  principal  effects.  The  Span 
iards,  imagining  that  the  Indians  were  completely  terrified  and 
dispersed,  now  roved  in  quest  of  booty  among  the  deserted 
houses,  which  stood  distant  from  each  other,  buried  among  the 
trees.  While  they  were  thus  scattered,  troops  of  savages 
rushed  forth,  with  furious  yells,  from  all  parts  of  the  forest. 
The  Spaniards  endeavoured  to  gather  together  and  support 
each  other,  but  every  little  party  was  surrounded  by  a  host  of 
foes.  They  fought  with  desperate  bravery,  but  for  once  their 
valour  and  their  iron  armour  were  of  no  avail ;  they  were  over 
whelmed  by  numbers,  and  sank  beneath  war-clubs  and  poi 
soned  arrows. 

Ojeda  on  the  first  alarm  collected  a  few  soldiers  and  en 
sconced  himself  within  a  small  enclosure,  surrounded  by  pali 
sades.  Here  he  was  closely  besieged  and  galled  by  flights  of 
arrows.  He  threw  himself  on  his  knees,  covered  himself  with 
his  buckler,  and,  being  small  and  active,  managed  to  protect 
himself  from  the  deadly  shower,  but  all  his  companions  were 
slain  by  his  side,  some  of  them  perishing  in  frightful  agonies. 
At  this  fearful  moment  the  veteran  La  Cosa,  having  heard  of 
the  peril  of  his  commander,  arrived,  with  a  few  followers,  to 
his  assistance.  Stationing  himself  at  the  gate  of  the  palisades, 
the  brave  Biscayan  kept  the  savages  at  bay  until  most  of  his 
men  were  slain  and  he  himself  was  severely  wounded.  Just 
then  Ojeda  sprang  forth  like  a  tiger  into  the  midst  of  the 
enemy,  dealing  his  blows  on  every  side.  La  Cosa  would  have 
seconded  him,  but  was  crippled  by  his  wounds.  He  took  refuge 
with  the  remnant  of  his  men  in  an  Indian  cabin ;  the  straw  roof 
of  which  he  aided  them  to  throw  off,  lest  the  enemy  should  set 
it  on  fire.  Here  he  defended  himself  until  all  his  comrades, 
but  one,  were  destroyed.  The  subtle  poison  of  his  wounds  at 
length  overpowered  him,  and  he  sank  to  the  ground.  Feeling 


52  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

death  at  hand,  he  called  to  his  only  surviving  companion. 
4 'Brother,  "said  he,  "since  God  hath  protected  thee  from  harm, 
sally  forth  and  fly,  and  if  ever  thou  shouldst  see  Alonzo  de 
Ojeda,  tell  him  of  my  fate!" 

Thus  fell  the  hardy  Juan  de  la  Cosa,  faithful  and  devoted  to 
the  very  last ;  nor  can  we  refrain  from  pausing  to  pay  a  pass 
ing  tribute  to  his  memory.  He  was  acknowledged  by  his  con 
temporaries  to  be  one  of  the  ablest  of  those  gallant  Spanish 
navigators  who  first  explored  the  way  to  the  New  World.  But 
it  is  by  the  honest  and  kindly  qualities  of  his  heart  that  his 
memory  is  most  endeared  to  us ;  it  is,  above  all,  by  that  loyalty 
in  friendship  displayed  in  this  his  last  and  fatal  expedition. 
Warmed  by  his  attachment  for  a  more  youthful  and  a  hot 
headed  adventurer,  we  see  this  wary  veteran  of  the  seas  for 
getting  his  usual  prudence  and  the  lessons  of  his  experience, 
and  embarking,  heart  and  hand,  purse  and  person,  in  the  wild 
enterprises  of  his  favourite.  We  behold  him  watching  over 
him  as  a  parent,  remonstrating  with  him  as  a  counsellor,  but 
fighting  by  him  as  a  partisan ;  following  him,  without  hesita 
tion,  into  known  and  needless  danger,  to  certain  death  itself, 
and  showing  no  other  solicitude  in  his  dying  moments  but  to 
be  remembered  by  his  friend. 

The  histories  of  these  Spanish  discoveries  abound  in  noble 
and  generous  traits  of  character,  but  few  have  charmed  us 
more  than  this  instance  of  loyalty  to  the  last  gasp,  in  the 
death  of  the  staunch  Juan  de  la  Cosa.  The  Spaniard  who  es 
caped  to  tell  the  story  of  his  end  was  the  only  survivor  of 
seventy  that  had  followed  Ojeda  in  this  rash  and  headlong 
inroad. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ARRIVAL  OF  NICUESA — VENGEANCE  TAKEN  ON  THE  INDIANS. 

WHILE  these  disastrous  occurrences  happened  on  shore, 
great  alarm  began  to  be  felt  on  board  of  the  ships.  Days  had 
elapsed  since  the  party  had  adventured  so  rashly  into  the  wil 
derness  ;  yet  nothing  had  been  seen  or  heard  of  them,  and  the 
forest  spread  a  mystery  over  their  fate.  Some  of  the  Spaniards 
ventured  a  little  distance  into  the  woods,  but  were  deterred  by 
the  distant  shouts  and  yells  of  the  savages,  and  the  noise  of 


THIRD   VOYAGE  OF  ALONZO  DE  OJEDA.  53 

their  conchs  and  drums.  Armed  detachments  then  coasted 
the  shore  in  boats,  landing  occasionally,  climbing  the  rocks  and 
promontories,  firing  signal-guns,  and  sounding  trumpets.  It 
was  all  in  vain ;  they  heard  nothing  but  the  echoes  of  their 
own  noises,  or  perhaps  the  wild  whoop  of  an  Indian  from  the 
bosom  of  the  forest.  At  length,  when  they  were  about  to  give 
up  the  search  in  despair,  they  came  to  a  great  thicket  of  man 
grove  trees  on  the  margin  of  the  sea.  These  trees  grow  within 
the  water,  but  their  roots  rise,  and  are  intertwined,  above  the 
surface.  In  this  entangled  and  almost  impervious  grove,  they 
caught  a  glimpse  of  a  man  in  Spanish  attire.  They  entered, 
and,  to  their  astonishment,  found  it  to  be  Alonzo  de  Ojeda. 
Tie  was  lying  on  the  matted  roots  of  the  mangroves,  .his  buck 
ler  on  his  shoulder,  and  his  sword  in  his  hand;  but  so  wasted 
with  hunger  and  fatigue  that  he  could  not  speak.  They  bore 
him  to  the  firm  land ;  made  a  fire  on  the  shore  to  warm  him, 
for  he  was  chilled  with  the  damp  and  cold  of  his  hiding-place, 
and  when  he  was  a  little  revived  they  gave  him  food  and  wine. 
In  this  way  he  gradually  recovered  strength  to  tell  his  doleful 
story.* 

He  had  succeeded  in  cutting  his  way  through  the  host  of 
savages,  and  attaining  the  woody  skirts  of  the  mountains ;  but 
when  he  found  himself  alone,  and  that  all  his  brave  men  had 
been  cut  off,  he  was  ready  to  yield  up  in  despair.  Bitterly  did 
he  reproach  himself  for  having  disregarded  the  advice  of  the 
veteran  La  Cosa,  and  deeply  did  he  deplore  the  loss  of  that 
loyal  follower,  who  had  fallen  a  victim  to  his  devotion.  He 
scarce  knew  which  way  to  bend  his  course,  but  continued  on, 
in  the  darkness  of  the  night  and  of  the  forest,  until  out  of  hear 
ing  of  the  yells  of  triumph  uttered  by  the  savages  over  the 
bodies  of  his  men.  When  the  day  broke,  he  sought  the  rudest 
parts  of  the  mountains,  and  hid  himself  until  the  night ;  then 
struggling  forward  among  rocks,  and  precipices,  and  matted 
forests,  he  made  his  way  to  the  sea-side,  but  was  too  much  ex 
hausted  to  reach  the  ships.  Indeed  it  was  wonderful  that  one 

*  The  picture  here  given  is  so  much  like  romance,  that  the  author  quotes  his 
authority  at  length :  — "  Llegaron  adonde  havia.  junto  al  agua  de  la  mar,  vinos  Man- 
glares,  quo  son  arboles,  que  siempre  nacen,  i  crecen  i  permanecen  dentro  del  agua 
de  la  mar.  con  grandes  raices,  asidas,  i  enmarafiadas  unas  con  otras,  i  alii  metido, 
i  escondido  hallaron  a  Alon/o  de  Ojeda,  con  su  espada  en  la  mano,  i  la  rodela  en 
las  espaklas,  i  en  ella  sobre  trecientas  senales  de  flechazos.  Estabo  descaido  de 
hambre.  que  no  podia  hechar  de  si  la  habla;  i  si  no  fuera  tan  robusto,  aunque  chico 
de  cuerpo,  fuera  muerto." 

Las  Casas.  1.  ii.  c.  58.    MS.  Herrara,  Hist.  Ind.  D.  i.  1.  vii.  c.  xv. 


£4  SPANISH   VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVEHf. 

so  small  of  frame  should  have  been  able  to  endure  such  great 
hardships;  but  he  was  of  admirable  strength  and  hardihood. 
His  foRowers  considered  his  escape  from  death  as  little  less 
than  miraculous,  and  he  himself  regarded  it  as  another  proof 
of  the  special  protection  of  the  Virgin ;  for,  though  he  had,  as 
usual,  received  no  wound,  yet  it  is  said  his  buckler  bore  the 
dints  of  upwards  of  three  hundred  arrows.* 

While  the  Spaniards  were  yet  on  the  shore,  administering 
to  the  recovery  of  their  commander,  the v  beheld  a  squadron 
of  ships  standing  towards  the  harbour  of  Carthagena,  and 
soon  perceived  them  to  be  the  ships  of  Nicuesa.  Ojeda  was 
troubled  in  mind  at  the  sight,  recollecting  his  late  intem 
perate  defiance  of  that  cavalier;  and,  reflecting  that,  should 
he  seek  him  in  enmity,  he  was  in  no  situation  to  main 
tain  his  challenge  or  defend  himself.  He  ordered  his  men, 
therefore,  to  return  on  board  the  ships  and  leave  him  alone  on 
the  shore,  and  not  to  reveal  the  place  of  his  retreat  while 
Nicuesa  should  remain  in  the  harbour. 

As  the  squadron  entered  the  harbour,  the  boats  sallied  forth 
to  meet  it.  The  first  inquiry  of  Nicuesa  was  concerning  Ojeda. 
The  followers  of  the  latter  replied,  mournfully,  that  their  com 
mander  had  gone  on  a  warlike  expedition  into  the  country, 
but  days  had  elapsed  without  his  return,  so  that  they  feared 
some  misfortune  had  befallen  him.  They  entreated  Nicuesa, 
therefore,  to  give  his  word,  as  a  cavalier,  that  should  Ojeda 
really  be  in  distress,  he  would  not  take  advantage  of  his  mis 
fortunes  to  revenge  himself  for  their  late  disputes. 

Nicuesa,  who  was  a  gentleman  of  noble  and  generous  spirit, 
blushed  with  indignation  at  such  a  request.  ' '  Seek  your  com 
mander  instantly, "  said  he ;  ' '  bring  him  to  me  if  he  be  alive ; 
and  I  pledge  myself  not  merely  to  forget  the  past,  but  to  aid 
him  as  if  he  were  a  brother,  t 

When  they  met,  Nicuesa  received  his  late  foe  with  open 
arms.  "It  is  not,"  said  he,  "for  Hidalgos,  like  men  of  vulgar 
souls,  to  remember  past  differences  when  they  behold  one  an 
other  in  distress.  Henceforth,  let  all  that  has  occurred  be 
tween  us  be  forgotten.  Command  rne  as  a  brother.  Myself 
and  my  men  are  at  your  orders,  to  follow  you  wherever  you 
please,  until  the  deaths  of  Juan  de  la  Cosa  and  his  comrades 
are  revenged." 

The  spirits  of  Ojeda  were  once  more  lifted  up  by  this  gallant 

$  Las  Casas,  ubi  sup.  t  Ibid. 


THIRD    VOYAGE   OF  ALONZO  DE  OJEDA.  55 

and  generous  offer.  The  two  governors,  no  longer  rivals, 
landed  four  hundred  of  their  men  and  several  horses,  and  set 
off  with  all  speed  for  the  fatal  village.  They  approached  it 
in  the  night,  and,  dividing  their  forces  into  two  parties,  gave 
orders  that  not  an  Indian  should  be  taken  alive. 

The  village  was  buried  in  deep  sleep,  but  the  woods  were- 
filled  with  large  parrots,  which,  being  awakened,  made  a  pro 
digious  clamour.  The  Indians,  however,  thinking  the  Span^ 
iards  all  destroyed,  paid  no  attention  to  these  noises.  It  was 
hot  until  their  houses  were  assailed,  and  wrapped  in  flames, 
that  they  took  the  alarm.  They  rushed  forth,  some  with  arms, 
some  weaponless,  but  were  received  at  their  doors  by  the  exas 
perated  Spaniards,  and  either  slain  on  the  spot,  or  driven  back 
into  the  fire.  Women  fled  wildly  forth  with  children  in  their 
arms,  but  at  sight  of  the  Spaniards  glittering  in  steel,  and  of 
the  horses,  which  they  supposed  ravenous  monsters,  they  ran 
back,  shrieking  with  horror,  into  their  burning  habitations. 
Great  was  the  carnage,  for  no  quarter  was  shown  to  age  or  sex. 
Many  perished  by  the  fire,  and  many  by  the  sword. 

When  they  had  fully  glutted  their  vengeance,  the  Spaniards 
ranged  about  for  booty.  While  thus  employed,  they  found  the 
body  of  the  unfortunate  Juan  de  la  Cosa.  It  was  tied  to  a  tree, 
but  swoln  and  discoloured  in  a  hideous  manner  by  the  poison 
of  the  arrows  with  which  he  had  been  slain.  This  dismal 
spectacle  had  such  an  effect  upon  the  common  men,  that  not 
one  would  remain  in  that  place  during  the  night.  Having 
sacked  the  village,  therefore,  they  left  it  a  smoking  ruin,  and 
returned  in  triumph  to  their  ships.  The  spoil  in  gold  and  other 
articles  of  value  must  have  been  great,  for  the  share  of  Nicuesa 
and  his  men  amounted  to  the  value  of  seven  thousand  castil- 
lanos.*  The  two  governors,  now  faithful  confederates,  parted 
with  many  expressions  of  friendship,  and  with  mutual  admira 
tion  of  each  other's  prowess,  and  Nicuesa  continued  his  voyage 
for  the  coast  of  Veragua. 

*  Equivalent  to  37,281  dollars  of  the  present  day. 


56  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY, 


CHAPTER  V. 

OJEDA    FOUNDS   THE    COLONY  OF   SAN    SEBASTIAN — BELEAGUERED 
BY  THE  INDIANS. 

OJEDA  now  adopted,  though  tardily,  the  advice  of  his  un 
fortunate  lieutenant,  Juan  de  la  Cosa,  and,  giving  up  all 
thoughts  of  colonising  this  disastrous  part  of  the  coast,  steered 
his  course  for  the  Gulf  of  Uraba.  He  sought  for  some  time  the 
river  Darien,  famed  among  the  Indians  as  abounding  in  gold, 
but  not  finding  it,  landed  in  various  places,  seeking  a  favour 
able  site  for  his  intended  colony.  His  people  were  disheart 
ened  by  the  disasters  they  had  already  undergone,  and  the 
appearance  of  surrounding  objects  was  not  calculated  to  reas 
sure  them.  The  country,  though  fertile  and  covered  with  rich 
and  beautiful  vegetation,  was  in  their  eyes  a  land  of  cannibals 
and  monsters.  They  began  to  dread  the  strength  as  well  as 
fierceness  of  the  savages,  who  could  transfix  a  man  with  their 
arrows  even  when  covered  with  armour,  and  whose  shafts 
were  tipped  with  deadly  poison.  They  heard  the  bowlings  of 
tigers,  panthers,  and,  as  they  thought,  lions  in  the  forests,  and 
encountered  large  and  venomous  serpents  among  the  rocks  and 
thickets.  As  they  were  passing  along  the  banks  of  a  river, 
one  of  their  horses  was  seized  by  the  leg  by  an  enormous 
alligator,  and  dragged  beneath  the  waves.* 

At  length  Ojeda  fixed  upon  a  place  for  his  town  on  a  height 
at  the  east  side  of  the  Gulf.  Here,  landing  all  that  could  be 
spared  from  the  ships,  he  began  with  all  diligence  to  erect 
houses,  giving  this  embryo  capital  of  his  province  the  name  of 
San  Sebastian,  in  honour  of  that  sainted  martyr,  who  was  slain 
by  arrows ;  hoping  he  might  protect  the  inhabitants  from  the 
empoisoned  shafts  of  the  savages.  As  a  further  protection  he 
erected  a  large  wooden  fortress,  and  surrounded  the  place  with 
a  stockade.  Feeling,  however,  the  inadequacy  of  his  handful 
of  men  to  contend  with  the  hostile  tribes  around  him,  he  de 
spatched  a  ship  to  Hispaniola,  with  a  letter  to  the  Bachelor, 
Martin  Fernandez  de  Enciso,  his  Alcalde  Mayor,  informing  him 
of  his  having  established  his  seat  of  government,  and  urging 
him  to  lose  no  time  in  joining  him  with  all  the  recruits,  arms, 

*  Herrera,  Hist.  Ind,  D.  i.  1.  vii.  c.  xvi, 


Till  III)    VOYAGE   OF  ALONZO  DK  OJEDA.  57 

and  provisions  he  could  command.  By  the  same  ship  he  trans 
mitted  to  San  Domingo  all  the  captives  and  gold  he  had  col 
lected. 

His  capital  being  placed  in  a  posture  of  defence,  Ojeda  now 
thought  of  making  a  progress  through  his  wild  territory,  and 
set  out,  accordingly,  with  an  armed  band,  to  pay  a  friendly 
visit  to  a  neighbouring  cacique,  reputed  as  possessing  great 
treasures  of  gold.  The  natives,  however,  had  by  this  time 
learnt  the  nature  of  these  friendly  visits,  and  were  prepared  to 
resist  them.  Scarcely  had  the  Spaniards  entered  into  the  de 
files  of  the  surrounding  forest  when  they  were  assailed  by 
nights  of  arrows  from  the  close  coverts  of  the  thickets.  Some 
were  shot  dead  on  the  spot;  others,  less  fortunate,  expired 
raving  with  the  torments  of  the  poison ;  the  survivors,  filled 
with  horror  at  the  sight,  and  losing  all  presence  of  mind,  re 
treated  in  confusion  to  the  fortress. 

It  was  some  time  before  Ojeda  could  again  persuade  his  men 
to  take  the  field,  so  great  was  their  dread  of  the  poisoned 
weapons  of  the  Indians.  At  length  their  provisions  began  to 
fail,  and  they  were  compelled  to  forage  among  the  villages  in 
search,  not  of  gold,  but  of  food. 

In  one  of  their  expeditions  they  were  surprised  by  an  am 
buscade  of  savages  in  a  gorge  of  the  mountains,  and  attacked 
with  such  fury  and  effect,  that  they  were  completely  routed 
and  pursued  with  yells  and  bowlings  to  the  very  gates  of  St. 
Sebastian.  Many  died  in  excruciating  agony  of  their  wounds, 
and  others  recovered  with  extreme  difficulty.  Those  who  were 
well  no  longer  dared  to  venture  forth  in  search  of  food ;  for  the 
whole  forest  teemed  with  lurking  foes.  They  devoured  such 
herbs  and  roots  as  they  could  find  without  regard  to  their 
quality.  The  humors  of  their  bodies  became  corrupted,  and 
various  diseases,  combined  with  the  ravages  of  famine,  daily 
thinned  their  numbers.  The  sentinel  who  feebly  mounted 
guard  at  night  was  often  found  dead  at  his  post  in  the  morn 
ing.  Some  stretched  themselves  on  the  ground  and  expired  of 
ID  ere  famine  and  debility ;  nor  was  death  any  longer  regarded 
as  ?.n  evil,  but  rather  as  a  welcome  relief  from  a  life  of  horror 
and  despair. 


£8  8PANIS11   VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERT. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

ALONZO     DE     OJEDA    SUPPOSED     BY     THE     SAVAGES    TO    HAVE    A 
CHARMED   LIFE— THEIR  EXPERIMENT  TO  TRY  THE  FACT. 

IN  the  mean  time  the  Indians  continued  to  harass  the  garri 
son,  lying  in  wait  to  surprise  the  foraging  parties,  cutting  off 
all  stragglers,  and  sometimes  approaching  the  walls  in  open 
defiance.  On  such  occasions  Ojeda  sallied  forth  at  the  head  of 
his  men,  and,  from  his  great  agility,  was  the  first  to  overtake 
the  retreating  foe.  He  slew  more  of  their  warriors  with  his  single 
arm  than  all  his  followers  together.  Though  often  exposed  to 
showers  of  arrows,  none  had  ever  wounded  him,  and  the  In 
dians  began  to  think  he  had  a  charmed  life.  Perhaps  they  had 
heard  from  fugitive  prisoners  the  idea  entertained  by  him 
self  and  hitf  followers  of  his  being  under  supernatural  protec 
tion.  Determined  to  ascertain  the  fact,  they  placed  four  of 
their  most  dexterous  archers  in  ambush  with  orders  to  single 
him  out.  A  number  of  them  advanced  towards  the  fort 
sounding  their  conchs  and  drums  and  uttering  yells  of  defiance. 
As  they  expected,  the  impetuous  Ojeda  sallied  forth  immedi 
ately  at  the  head  of  his  men.  The  Indians  fled  towards  the  am 
buscade,  drawing  him  in  furious  pursuit.  The  archers  waited 
until  he  was  full  in  front,  and  then  launched  their  deadly 
shafts.  Three  struck  his  buckler  and  glanced  harmlessly  off, 
but  the  fourth  pierced  his  thigh.  Satisfied  that  he  was 
wounded  beyond  the  possibility  of  cure,  the  savages  retreated 
Avith  shouts  of  triumph. 

Ojeda  was  borne  back  to  the  fortress  in  great  anguish  of 
body  and  despondency  of  spirit.  For  the  first  time  in  his  lil'o 
he  had  lost  blood  in  battle.  The  charm  in  which  he  had  hith 
erto  confided  was  broken ;  or  rather,  the  Holy  Virgin  appeared 
to  have  withdrawn  her  protection.  He  had  the  horrible  death 
of  his  followers  before  his  eyes,  who  had  perished  of  their 
wounds  in  raving  frenzy. 

One  of  the  symptoms  of  the  poison  was  to  shoot  a  thrilling 
chill  through  the  wounded  part ;  from  this  circumstance,  per 
haps,  a  remedy  suggested  itself  to  the  imagination  of  Ojeda, 
which  few  but  himself  could  have  had  the  courage  to  undergo. 
He  caused  two  plates  of  iron  to  be  made  red  hot,  and  ordered  a 
surgeon  to  apply  them  to  each  orifice  of  the  wound.  The  sur 
geon  shuddered  and  refused,  saying  he  would,  not  be  the  mur. 


THIRD    VOYAGE  OF  ALONZO  DE  OJEDA.  59 

derer  of  his  general.*  Upon  this  Ojeda  made  a  solemn  vow 
that  he  would  hang  him  unless  he  obeyed.  To  avoid  the  gal 
lows,  the  surgeon  applied  the  glowing  plates.  Ojeda  refused 
to  be  tied  down,  or  that  any  one  should  hold  him  during  this 
frightful  operation.  He  endured  it  without  shrinking  or 
uttering  a  murmur,  although  it  so  inflamed  his  whole  system, 
that  they  had  to  wrap  him  in  sheets  steeped  in  vinegar  to  allay 
the  burning  heat  which  raged  throughout  his  body ;  and  we 
are  assured  that  a  barrel  of  vinegar  was  exhausted  for  the  pur 
pose.  The  desperate  remedy  succeeded :  the  cold  poison,  says 
Bishop  Las  Casas,  was  consumed  by  the  vivid  fire.t  How  far 
the  venerable  historian  is  correct  in  his  postulate,  surgeons 
may  decide;  but  many  incredulous  persons  will  be  apt  to 
account  for  the  cure  by  surmising  that  the  arrow  was  not  en 
venomed. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

ARRIVAL  OF  A  STRANGE  SHIP  AT  SAN  SEBASTIAN. 

ALONZO  DE  OJEDA,  though  pronounced  out  of  danger,  was 
still  disabled  by  his  wound,  and  his  helpless  situation  com 
pleted  the  despair  of  his  companions;  for,  while  he  was  in 
health  and  vigour,  his  buoyant  and  mercurial  spirit,  his  active, 
restless,  and  enterprising  habits,  imparted  animation,  if  not 
confidence,  to  every  one  around  him.  The  only  hope  of  relief 
was  from  the  sea,  and  that  was  nearly  extinct,  when,  one  day, 
to  the  unspeakable  joy  of  the  Spaniards,  a  sail  appeared  on  the 
horizon.  It  made  for  the  port  and  dropped  anchor  at  the  foot 
of  the  height  of  San  Sebastian,  and  there  was  no  longer  a  doubt 
that  it  was  the  promised  succour  from  San  Domingo. 

The  ship  came  indeed  from  the  island  of  Hispaniola,  but  it 
had  not  been  fitted  out  by  the  Ba,chelor  Enciso.  The  com 
mander's  name  was  Bernardino  de  Talavera.  This  man  was 
one  of  the  loose,  heedless  adventurers  who  abounded  in  San 
Domingo.  His  carelessness  and  extravagance  had  involved 
him  in  debt,  and  he  was  threatened  with  a  prison.  In  the 
height  of  his  difficulties  the  ship  arrived  which  Ojeda  had 


*  Charlevoix,  ntsup,,  p.  293. 

t  Las  Casas,  Hist.  Ind.  lib.  ii.  c.  59,  MS. 


60  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DTSCOVEHY. 

sent  to  San  Domingo,  freighted  with  slaves  and  gold,  an 
earnest  of  the  riches  to  be  found  at  San  Sebastian.  Bernar 
dino  de  Talavera  immediately  conceived  the  project  of  giving 
his  creditors  the  slip  and  escaping  to  this  new  settlement.  He 
understood  that  Ojeda  was  in  need  of  recruits,  and  felt  as 
sured  that,  from  his  own  reckless  conduct  in  money -matters, 
he  would  sympathize  with  any  one  harassed  by  debt.  He 
drew  into  his  schemes  a  number  of  desperate  debtors  like 
himself,  nor  was  he  scrupulous  about  filling  his  ranks  with 
recruits  whose  legal  embarrassments  arose  from  more  criminal 
causes.  Never  did  a  more  vagabond  crew  engage  in  a  project 
of  colonization. 

How  to  provide  themselves  with  a  vessel  was  now  the  ques 
tion.  They  had  neither  money  nor  credit ;  but  then  they  had 
cunning  and  courage,  and  were  troubled  by  no  scruples  of  con 
science;  thus  qualified,  a  knave  will  often  succeed  better  for  a 
time  than  an  honest  man ;  it  is  in  the  long  run  that  he  fails,  as 
will  be  illustrated  in  the  case  of  Talavera  and  his  hopeful  asso 
ciates.  While  casting  about  for  means  to  escape  to  San  Sebas 
tian  they  heard  of  a  vessel  belonging  to  certain  Genoese,  which 
was  at  Cape  Tiburon,  at  the  western  extremity  of  the  island, 
taking  in  a  cargo  of  bacon  and  casava  bread  for  San  Domingo. 
Nothing  could  have  happened  more  opportunely :  here  was  a 
ship  amply  stored  with  provisions,  and  ready  to  their  hand ; 
they  had  nothing  to  do  but  seize  it  and  embark. 

The  gang,  accordingly,  seventy  in  number,  made  their  way 
separately  and  secretly  to  Cape  Tiburon,  where,  assembling  at 
an  appointed  time  and  place,  they  boarded  the  vessel,  over 
powered  the  crew,  weighed  anchor,  and  set  sail.  They  were 
heedless,  hap-hazard  mariners,  and  knew  little  of  the  manage 
ment  of  a  vessel ;  the  historian  Charlevoix  thinks,  therefore, 
that  it  was  a  special  providence  that  guided  them  to  San  Sebas 
tian.  Whether  or  not  the  good  father  is  right  in  his  opinion, 
it  is  certain  that  the  arrival  of  the  ship  rescued  the  garrison 
from  the  very  brink  of  destruction.  * 

Talavera  and  his  gang,  though  they  had  come  lightly  by 
their  prize,  were  not  disposed  to  part  with  it  as  frankly,  but 
demanded  to  be  paid  down  in  gold  for  the  provisions  furnished 
to  the  starving  colonists.  Ojeda  agreed  to  their  terms,  and 
taking  the  supplies  into  his  possession,  dealt  them  out  spar 
ingly  to  his  companions.  Several  of  his  hungry  followers  were 

*  Higt.  S.  Domingo,  lib.  iv. 


THIRD    VOYAGE  0:    ALONZO  DE  OJEDA.  61 

dissatisfied  with  their  portions,  and  even  accused  Ojeda  of  un 
fairness  in  reserving  an  undue  share  for  himself.  Perhaps 
there  may  have  been  some  ground  for  this  charge,  arising,  not 
from  any  selfishness  in  the  character  of  Ojeda,  but  from  one  of 
those  superstitious  fancies  with  which  his  mind  was  tinged ;  for 
we  are  told  that,  for  many  years,  he  had  been  haunted  by  a 
presentiment  that  he  should  eventually  die  of  hunger.* 

This  lurking  horror  of  the  mind  may  have  made  him  depart 
from  his  usual  free  and  lavish  spirit  in  doling  out  these  provi 
dential  supplies,  and  may  have  induced  him  to  set  by  an  extra 
portion  for  himself,  as  a  precaution  against  his  anticipated  fate ; 
certain  it  is  that  great  clamours  rose  among  his  people,  some 
of  whom  threatened  to  return  in  the  pirate  vessel  to  Hispa- 
iiiola.  He  succeeded,  however,  in  pacifying  them  for  the  pres 
ent,  by  representing  the  necessity  of  husbanding  their  supplies, 
and  by  assuring  them  that  the  Bachelor  Enciso  could  not  fail 
soon  to  arrive,  when  there  would  be  provisions  in  abundance. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

FACTIONS  IN  THE  COLONY— A  CONVENTION  MADE. 

DAYS  and  days  elapsed,  but  no  relief  arrived  at  San  Sebas 
tian.  The  Spaniards  kept  a  ceaseless  watch  upon  the  sea,  but 
the  promised  ship  failed  to  appear.  With  all  the  husbandry 
of  Ojeda  the  stock  of  provisions  was  nearly  consumed ;  famine 
again  prevailed,  and  several  of  the  garrison  perished  through 
their  various  sufferings  and  their  lack  of  sufficient  nourish 
ment.  The  survivors  now  became  factious  in  their  misery,  and 
a  plot  was  formed  among  them  to  seize  upon  one  of  the  vessels 
in  the  harbour  and  make  sail  for  Hispaniola. 

Ojeda  discovered  their  intentions,  and  was  reduced  to  great 
perplexity.  He  saw  that  to  remain  here  without  relief  from 
abroad  was  certain  destruction,  yet  he  clung  to  his  desperate 
enterprise.  It  was  his  only  chance  for  fortune  or  command ; 
for  should  this  settlement  be  broken  up  he  might  try  in  vain, 
with  his  exhausted  means  and  broken  credit,  to  obtain  another 
post  or  to  set  on  foot  another  expedition.  Ruin  in  fact  would 
overwhelm  him,  should  he  return  without  success. 

,  \,  I  viii,  Q.  3, 


62  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCO  VEHT. 

He  exerted  himself,  therefore,  to  the  utmost  to  pacify  his 
men ;  representing  the  folly  of  abandoning  a  place  where  they 
had  established  a  foothold,  and  where  they  only  needed  a  rein 
forcement  to  enable  them  to  control  the  surrounding  country, 
and  to  make  themselves  masters  of  its  riches.  Finding  they 
still  demurred,  he  offered,  now  that  he  was  sufficiently  recov 
ered  from  his  wound,  to  go  himself  to  San  Domingo  in  quest  of 
reinforcements  ana  supplies. 

This  offer  had  the  desired  effect.  Such  confidence  had  the 
people  in  the  energy,  ability,  and  influence  of  Ojeda,  that  they 
felt  assured  of  relief  should  he  seek  it  in  person.  They  made  a 
kind  of  convention  with  him,  therefore,  in  which  it  was  agreed 
that  they  should  remain  quietly  at  Sebastian's  for  the  space  of 
fifty  days.  At  the  end  of  this  time,  in  case  no  tidings  had  been 
received  of  Ojeda,  they  were  to  be  at  liberty  to  abandon  the 
settlement  and  return  in  the  brigantines  to  Hispaniola.  In  the 
mean  time  Francisco  Pizarro  was  to  command  the  colony  as 
Lieutenant  of  Ojeda,  until  the  arrival  of  his  Alcalde  Mayor, 
the  Bachelor  Enciso.  This  convention  being  made,  Ojeda  em 
barked  in  the  ship  of  Bernardino  de  Talavera.  That  cut-purse 
of  the  ocean  and  his  loose-handed  crew  were  effectually  cured 
of  their  ambition  to  colonize.  Disappointed  in  the  hope  of  find 
ing  abundant  wealth  at  San  Sebastian's,  and  dismayed  at  the 
perils  and  horrors  of  the  surrounding  wilderness,  they  pre 
ferred  returning  to  Hispaniola,  even  at  the  risk  of  chains  and 
dungeons.  Doubtless  they  thought  that  the  influence  of  Ojeda 
would  be  sufficient  to  obtain  their  pardon,  especially  as  their 
timely  succour  had  been  the  salvation  of  the  colony. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

DISASTOOUS  VOYAGE  OF   OJEDA   IN  THE   PIRATE  SHIP. 

OJEDA  had  scarce  put  to  sea  in  the  ship  of  these  freebooters, 
when  a  fierce  quarrel  arose  between  him  and  Talavera.  Ac 
customed  to  take  the  lead  among  his  companions,  still  feeling 
himself  governor,  and  naturally  of  a  domineering  spirit,  Ojeda, 
on  coming  on  board,  had  assumed  the  command  as  a  matter  of 
course.  Talavera,  who  claimed  dominion  over  the  ship,  by 
the  right,  no  doubt,  of  trover  and  conversion,  or,  in  other 
words,  of  downright  piracy,  resisted  this  usurpation, 


THI1W    VOYAGE  OF  ALONZO  DE  OJEDA.  63 

Ojoda,  as  usual,  would  speedily  have  settled  the  question  by 
the  sword,  but  he  had  the  whole  vagabond  crew  against  him, 
who  overpowered  him  with  numbers  and  threw  him  in  irons. 
Still  his  swelling  spirit  was  unsubdued.  He  reviled  Talavera 
and  his  gang  as  recreants,  traitors,  pirates,  and  offered  to 
fight  the  whole  of  them  successively,  provided  they  would 
give  him  a  clear  deck,  and  come  on  two  at  a  time.  Notwith 
standing  his  diminutive  size,  they  had  too  high  an  idea  of  his 
prowess,  and  had  heard  t<ro  much  of  his  exploits,  to  accept  his 
challenge ;  so  they  kept  him  raging  in  his  chains  while  they 
pursued  their  voyage. 

They  had  not  proceeded  far,  however,  when  a  violent  storm 
arose.  Talavera  and  his  crew  knew  little  of  navigation,  and 
were  totally  ignorant  of  those  seas.  The  raging  of  the  ele 
ments,  the  baffling  winds  and  currents,  and  the  danger  of 
unknown  rocks  and  shoals  filled  them  with  confusion  and 
alarm.  They  knew  not  whither  they  were  driving  before  the 
storm,  or  where  to  seek  for  shelter.  In  this  hour  of  peril  they 
called  to  mind  that  Ojeda  was  a  sailor  as  well  as  soldier,  and 
that  he  had  repeatedly  navigated  these  seas.  Making  a  truce, 
therefore,  for  the  common  safety,  they  took  off  his  irons,  on 
condition  that  he  would  pilot  the  vessel  during  the  remainder 
of  her  voyage. 

Ojeda  acquitted  himself  with  his  accustomed  spirit  and 
intrepidity;  but  the  vessel  had  been  already  swept  so  far  to 
the  westward  that  all  his  skill  was  ineffectual  in  endeavouring 
to  work  up  to  Hispaniola  against  storms  and  adverse  currents. 
Borne  away  by  the  gulf  stream,  and  tempest-tost  for  many 
days,  until  the  shattered  vessel  was  almost  in  a  foundering 
condition,  he  Raw  no  alternative  but  to  run  it  on  shore  on  the 
southern  coast  of  Cuba. 

Here  then  the  crew  of  freebooters  landed  from  their  prize  in 
more  despei^ite  plight  than  when  they  first  took  possession  of 
it.  They  were  on  a  wild  and  unfrequented  coast,  their  vessel 
lay  a  wreck  upon  the  sands,  and  their  only  chance  was  to 
travel  on  foot  to  the  eastern  extremity  of  the  island,  and  seek 
some  means  of  crossing  to  Hispaniola,  where,  after  their  toils, 
they  might  perhaps  'only  arrive  to  be  thrown  into  a  dungeon. 
Such,  however,  is  the  yearning  of  civilized  men  after  the 
haunts  of  cultivated  society,  that  they  set  out,  at  every 
risk,  upon  their  long  and  painful  journey. 


64  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 


CHAPTER  X. 

TOILSOME  MARCH  OF  OJEDA  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS  THROUGH  THB 
MORASSES   OF  CUBA. 

NOTWITHSTANDING  the  recent  services  of  Ojeda,  the  crew  of 
Talavera  still  regarded  him  with  hostility;  but,  if  they  had 
felt  the  value  of  his  skill  and  courTTge  at  sea,  they  were  no 
less  sensible  of  their  importance  on  shore,  and  he  soon  ac 
quired  that  ascendency  over  them  which  belongs  to  a  master 
spirit  in  time  of  trouble. 

Cuba  was  as  yet  uncolonized.  It  was  a  place  of  refuge  to 
the  unhappy  natives  of  Hayti,  who  fled  hither  from  the 
whips  and  chains  of  their  European  task-masters.  The  for 
ests  abounded  with  these  wretched  fugitives,  who  often 
opposed  themselves  to  the  shipwrecked  party,  supposing 
them  to  be  sent  by  their  late  masters  to  drag  them  back 
to  captivity. 

Ojeda  easily  repulsed  these  attacks;  but  found  that  these 
fugitives  had  likewise  inspired  the  villagers  with  hostility 
to  all  European  strangers.  Seeing  that  his  companions 
were  too  feeble  and  disheartened  to  fight  their  way  through 
the  populous  parts  of  the  island,  or  to  climb  the  rugged 
mountains  of  the  interior,  he  avoided  all  towns  and  villages, 
and  led  them  through  the  close  forests  and  broad  green 
savannahs  which  extended  between  the  mountains  and  the 
sea. 

He  had  only  made  choice  of  evils.  The  forests  gradually 
retired  from  the  coast.  The  savannahs,  where  the  Spaniards 
at  first  had  to  contend  merely  with  long  rank  grass  and  creep 
ing  vines,  soon  ended  in  salt  marshes,  where  the  oozy  bottom 
yielded  no  firm  foot-hold,  and  the  mud  and  water  reached 
to  their  knees.  Still  they  pressed  forward,  continually  hop 
ing  in  a  little  while  to  arrive  at  a  firmer  soil,  and  flattering 
themselves  they  beheld  fresh  meadow  land  before  them,  but 
continually  deceived.  The  farther  they  proceeded,  the  deeper 
grew  the  mire,  until,  after  they  had  been  eight  days  on  this 
dismal  journey  they  found  themselves  in  the  centre  of  a  vast 
morass  where  the  water  reached  to  their  girdles.  Though 
thus  almost  drowned,  they  were  tormented  with  incessant 
thirst,  for  all  the  water  around  them  was  as  briny  as  the 


THIRD    VOYAGE  OF  ALONZO  DE  OJEDA.  65 

ocean.  They  suffered  too  the  cravings  of  extreme  hunger, 
having  but  a  scanty  supply  of  cassava  bread  and  cheese, 
and  a  few  potatoes  and  other  roots,  which  they  devoured 
raw.  When  they  wished  to  sleep  they  had  to  climb  among 
the  twisted  roots  of  mangrove  trees,  which  grew  in  clusters 
in  the  waters.  Still  the  dreary  marsh  widened  and  deepened, 
In  many  places  they  had  to  cross  rivers  and  inlets;  where 
some,  who  could  not  swim,  were  drowned,  and  others  were 
smothered  in  the  mire. 

Their  situation  became  wild  and  desperate.  Their  cassava 
bread  was  spoiled  by  the  water,  and  their  stock  of  roots 
nearly  exhausted.  The  interminable  morass  still  extended 
before  them,  while,  to  return,  after  the  distance  they  had 
come,  was  hopeless.  Ojeda  alone  kept  up  a  resolute  spirit, 
and  cheered  and  urged  them  forward.  He  had  the  little 
Flemish  painting  of  the  Madonna,  which  had  been  given 
him  by  the  Bishop  Fonseca,  carefully  stored  among  the  pro 
visions  in  his  knapsack.  Whenever  he  stopped  to  repose 
among  the  roots  of  the  mangrove  trees,  he  took  out  this 
picture,  placed  it  among  the  branches,  and  kneeling,  prayed 
devoutly  to  the  Virgin  for  protection.  This  he  did  repeatedly 
in  the  course  of  the  day,  and  prevailed  upon  his  companions  to 
follow  his  example.  Nay,  more,  at  a  moment  of  great  de 
spondency  he  made  a  solemn  vow  to  his  patroness,  that  if  she 
conducted  him  alive  through  this  peril,  he  would  erect  a  chapel 
in  the  first  Indian  village  he  should  arrive  at ;  and  leave  her 
picture  there  to  remain  an  object  of  adoration  to  the  Gentiles.* 

This  frightful  morass  extended  for  the  distance  of  thirty 
leagues,  and  was  so  deep  and  difficult,  so  entangled  by  roots 
and  creeping  vines,  so  cut  up  by  creeks  and  rivers,  and  so 
beset  by  quagmires,  that  they  were  thirty  days  in  traversing 
it.  Out  of  the  number  of  seventy  men  that  set  out  from  the 
ship  but  thirty -five  remained.  ' '  Certain  it  is, "  observes  the 
venerable  Las  Casas,  "the  sufferings  of  the  Spaniards  in  the 
New  World,  in  search  of  wealth,  have  been  more  cruel  and 
severe  than  ever  nation  in  the  world  endured ;  but  those  expe 
rienced  by  Ojeda  and  his  men  have  surpassed  all  others." 

They  were  at  length  so  overcome  by  hunger  and  fatigue, 
that  some  lay  down  and  yielded  up  the  ghost,  and  others  seat 
ing  themselves  among  the  mangrove  trees,  waited  in  despair 
for  death  to  put  an  end  to  their  miseries.  Ojeda,  with  a  few  of 

*  Las  Casas,  Hist.  Ind.  1.  ii.  c  60,  MS. 


66  SPANISH  V07AOK8  OF  DISCOVERY. 

the  lightest  and  most  vigorous,  continued  to  struggle  forward, 
and,  to  their  unutterable  joy,  at  length  arrived  to  where  the 
land  was  firm  and  dry.  They  soon  descried  a  foot-path,  and, 
following  it,  arrived  at  an  Indian  village,  commanded  by  a 
cacique  called  Cueybas.  No  sooner  did  they  reach  the  village 
than  they  sank  to  the  earth  exhausted. 

The  Indians  gathered  round  and  gazed  at  them  with  wonder ; 
but  when  they  learnt  their  story,  they  exhibited  a  humanity 
that  would  have  done  honour  to  the  most  professing  Chris 
tians.  They  bore  them  to  their  dwellings,  set  meat  and  drink 
before  them,  and  vied  with  each  other  in  discharging  the 
offices  of  the  kindest  humanity.  Finding  that  a  number  of 
their  companions  were  still  in  the  morass,  the  cacique  sent  a 
large  party  of  Indians  with  provisions  for  their  relief,  with 
orders  to  bring  on  their  shoulders  such  as  were  too  feeble  to 
walk.  "  The  Indians,"  says  the  Bishop  Las  Casas,  "did  more 
than  they  were  ordered ;  for  so  they  always  do,  when  they  are 
not  exasperated  by  ill  treatment.  The  Spaniards  were  brought 
to  the  village,  succoured,  cherished,  consoled,  and  almost  wor 
shipped  as  if  they  had  been  angels." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

OJEDA  PERFORMS  HIS  VOW  TO  THE  VIRGIN. 

BEING  recovered  from  his  sufferings,  Alonzo  de  Ojeda  pre 
pared  to  perform  his  vow  concerning  the  picture  of  the  Virgin, 
though  sorely  must  it  have  grieved  him  to  part  with  a  relique 
to  which  he  attributed  his  deliverance  from  so  many  perils. 
He  built  a  little  hermitage  or  oratory  in  the  village,  and  fur 
nished  it  with  an  altar,  above  which  he  placed  the  picture.  He 
then  summoned  the  benevolent  cacique,  and  explained  to  him 
as  well  as  his  limited  knowledge  of  the  language,  or  the  aid  of 
interpreters  would  permit,  the  main  points  of  the  Catholic 
faith,  and  especially  the  history  of  the  Virgin,  whom  he  repre 
sented  as  the  mother  of  the  Deity  that  reigned  in  the  skies,  and 
the  great  advocate  for  mortal  man. 

The  worthy  cacique  listened  to  him  with  mute  attention,  and 
though  he  might  not  clearly  comprehend  the  doctrine,  yet  he 
conceived  a  profound  veneration  for  the  picture.  The  senti 
ment  was  shared  by  his  subjects.  They  kept  the  little  oratory 


THIRD    VOYAGE  OF  ALONZO  DE  OJEDA.  67 

always  swept  clean,  and  decorated  it  with  cotton  hangings, 
laboured  by  their  own  hands,  and  with  various  votive  offer 
ings.  They  composed  couplets  or  areytos  in  honour  of  the  Vir 
gin,  which  they  sang  to  the  accompaniment  of  rude  musical 
instruments,  dancing  to  the  sound  under  the  groves  which 
surrounded  the  hermitage. 

A  further  anecdote  concerning  this  relique  may  not  be  unac 
ceptable.  The  venerable  Las  Casas,  who  records  these  facts, 
informs  us  that  he  arrived  at  the  village  of  Cueybas  sometime 
after  the  departure  of  Ojeda.  He  found  the  oratory  preserved 
with  the  most  religious  care,  as  a  sacred  place,  and  the  picture 
of  the  Virgin  regarded  with  fond  adoration.  The  poor  Indians 
crowded  to  attend  mass,  which  he  performed  at  the  altar ;  they 
listened  attentively  to  his  paternal  instructions,  and  at  his 
request  brought  their  children  to  be  baptized.  The  good  Las 
Casas,  having  heard  much  of  il.is  famous  relique  of  Ojeda,  was 
desirous  of  obtaining  possession  of  it,  and  offered  to  give  the 
cacique  in  exchange  an  image  of  the  Virgin  which  he  had 
brought  with  him.  The  chieftain  made  an  evasive  answer, 
and  seemed  much  troubled  in  mind.  The  next  morning  he  did 
not  make  his  appearance. 

Las  Casas  went  to  the  oratory  to  perform  mass,  but  found 
the  altar  stripped  of  its  precious  relique.  On  inquiring,  he 
learnt  that  in  the  night  the  cacique  had  fled  to  the  woods, 
bearing  off  with  him  his  beloved  picture  of  the  Virgin.  It  was 
in  vain  that  Las  Casas  sent  messengers  after  him,  assuring  him 
that  he  should  not  be  deprived  of  the  relique,  but  on  the  con 
trary,  that  the  image  should  likewise  be  presented  to  him. 
The  cacique  refused  to  venture  from  the  fastnesses  of  the  for 
est,  nor  did  he  return  to  his  village  and  replace  the  picture  in 
the  oratory  until  after  the  departure  of  the  Spaniards.* 


CHAPTER  XII. 

ARRIVAL    OF    OJEDA    AT    JAMAICA — HIS    RECEPTION    BY  JUAN    DE 

ESQUIBEL. 

WHEN  the  Spaniards  were  completely  restored  to  health  and 
strength,  they  resumed  their  journey.  The  cacique  sent  a 
large  body  of  his  subject*  to  carry  their  provisions  and  knap- 

*  Las  Casas,  Hist.  Ind.,  c.  01,  MS.-Herrera,  Hist.  lud,  d.  i,  1,  ix,  c.  xv. 


68  SPANISH    VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

sacks,  and  to  guide  them  across  a  desert  tract  of  country  to  the 
province  of  Macaca,  where  Christopher  Columbus  had  been 
hospitably  entertained  on  his  voyage  along  this  coast.  They 
experienced  equal  kindness  from  its  cacique  and  his  people,  for 
such  seems  to  have  been  almost  invariably  the  case  with  the 
natives  of  these  islands,  before  they  had  held  much  inter 
course  with  the  Europeans. 

The  province  of  Macaca  was  situated  at  Cape  de  la  Cruz,  the 
nearest  point  to  the  island  of  Jamaica.  HereOjeda  learnt  that 
there  were  Spaniards  settled  on  that  island,  being  in  fact  the 
party  commanded  by  the  very  Juan  de  Esquibel  whose  head  he 
had  threatened  to  strike  off,  when  departing  in  swelling  style 
from  San  Domingo.  It  seemed  to  be  the  fortune  of  Ojeda  to 
have  his  bravadoes  visited  on  his  head  in  times  of  trouble  and 
humiliation.  He  found  himself  compelled  to  apply  for  succour 
to  the  very  man  he  had  so  vain-gloriously  menaced.  This  was 
no  time,  however,  to  stand  on  points  of  pride ;  he  procured  a 
canoe  and  Indians  from  the  cacique  of  Macaca,  and  one  Pedro 
de  Ordas  undertook  the  perilous  voyage  of  twenty  leagues  in 
the  frail  bark,  and  arrived  safe  at  Jamaica. 

No  sooner  did  Esquibel  receive  the  message  of  Ojeda,  than, 
forgetting  past  menaces,  he  instantly  despatched  a  caravel  to 
bring  to  him  the  unfortunate  discoverer  and  his  companions. 
He  received  him  with  .the  utmost  kindness,  lodged  him  in  his 
own  house,  and  treated  him  in  all  things  with  the  most  delicate 
attention.  He  was  a  gentleman  who  had  seen  prosperous  days, 
but  had  fallen  into  adversity  and  been  buffeted  about  the 
world,  and  had  learnt  how  to  respect  the  feelings  of  a  proud 
spirit  in  distress.  Ojeda  had  the  warm,  touchy  heart  to  feel 
such  conduct;  he  remained  several  days  with  Esquibel  in 
frank  communion,  and  when  he  sailed  for  San  Domingo  they 
parted  the  best  of  friends. 

And  here  we  cannot  but  remark  the  singular  difference  in 
character  and  conduct  of  these  Spanish  adventurers  when  deal 
ing  with  each  other,  or  with  the  unhappy  natives.  Nothing 
could  be  more  chivalrous,  urbane,  and  charitable;  nothing 
more  pregnant  with  noble  sacrifices  of  passion  and  interest, 
with  magnanimous  instances  of  forgiveness  of  injuries  and 
noble  contests  of  generosity,  than  the  transactions  of  the  dis 
coverers  with  each  other ;  but  the  moment  they  turned  to  treat 
with  the  Indians,  even  with  brave  and  high-minded  caciques, 
they  were  vindictive,  blood-thirsty,  and  implacable.  The  very 
e  Isquibel,  who  could  requite  the  recent  kostilitv  of 


THIRD    VOYAGE  OF  ALOZZO  DE  OJliDA.  (J9 

Ojeda  with  such  humanity  and  friendship,  was  the  same  who, 
under  the  government  of  Ovando,  laid  desolate  the  province  of 
Higuey  in  Hispaniola,  and  inflicted  atrocious  cruelties  upon 
its  inhabitants. 

When  Alonzo  de  Ojeda  set  sail  for  San  Domingo,  Bernardino 
do  Talavera  and  liis  rabble  adherents  remained  at  Jamaica. 
They  feared  to  be  brought  to  account  for  their  piratical  exploit 
in  stealing  the  Genoese  vessel,  and  that  in  consequence  of  their 
recent  violence  to  Ojeda,  they  would  find  in  him  an  accuser 
rather  than  an  advocate.  The  latter,  however,  in  the  opinion 
of  Las  Casas.  who  knew  him  well,  was  not  a  man  to  make  ac 
cusations.  With  all  his  faults  he  did  not  harbour  malice.  He 
was  quick  and  fiery,  it  is  true,  and  his  sword  was  too  apt  to 
leap  from  its  scabbard  on  the  least  provocation ;  but  after  the 
first  flash  all  was  over,  and,  if  he  cooled  upon  an  injury,  he 
never  sought  for  vengeance. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

ARRIVAL  OF    ALONZO    DE    OJEDA    AT    SAN    DOMINGO— CONCLUSION 
OF  HIS  STORY. 

ON  arriving  at  San  Domingo  the  first  inquiry  of  Alonzo  de 
Ojeda  was  after  the  Bachelor  Enciso.  HeAvas  told  that  he  had 
departed  long  before,  with  abundant  supplies  for  the  colony, 
and  that  nothing  had  been  heard  of  him  since  his  departure. 
Ojeda  waited  for  a  time,  in  hopes  of  hearing,  by  some  return 
ship,  of  the  safe  arrival  of  the  Bachelor  at  San  Sebastian.  No 
tidings,  however,  arrived,  and  he  began  to  fear  that  he  had 
been  lost  in  those  storms  which  had  beset  himself  on  his  return 
voyage. 

Anxious  for  the  relief  of  his  settlement,  and  fearing  that,  by 
delay,  his  whole  scheme  of  colonization  would  be  defeated,  he 
now  endeavoured  to  set  on  foot  another  armament,  and  to  en 
list  a  new  set  of  adventurers.  His  efforts,  however,  were  all 
ineffectual.  The  disasters  of  his  colony  were  known,  and  his 
own  circumstances  were  considered  desperate.  He  was  doomed 
to  experience  the  fate  that  too  often  attends  sanguine  and  bril- 
jiant  projectors.  Tjhe  world  is  dazzled  by  them  for  a  time,  and 
thmn  as  heroes  while  successful ;  but  misfortune  dissipates 


70  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

the  charm,  and  they  become  stigmatized  with  the  appellation 
of  adventurers.  When  Ojeda  figured  in  San  Domingo  as  the 
conqueror  of  Coanabo,  as  the  commander  of  a  squadron,  as  the 
governor  of  a  province,  his  prowess  and  exploits  were  the 
theme  of  every  tongue.  When  he  set  sail,  in  vaunting  style, 
for  his  seat  of  government,  setting  the  viceroy  at  defiance, 
and  threatening  the  life  of  Esquibel,  every  one  thought  that 
fortune  was  at  his  beck,  and  he  was  about  to  accomplish  won 
ders.  A  few  months  had  elapsed,  and  he  walked  the  streets  of 
San  Domingo  a  needy  man,  shipwrecked  in  hope  and  fortune. 
His  former  friends,  dreading  some  new  demand  upon  their 
purses,  looked  coldly  on  him;  his  schemes,  once  so  extolled, 
were  now  pronounced  wild  and  chimerical,  and  lie  was  sub 
jected  to  all  kinds  of  slights  and  humiliations  in  the  very  place 
which  had  been  the  scene  of  his  greatest  vain-glory. 

While  Ojeda  was  thus  lingering  at  San  Domingo,  the  Admi 
ral,  Don  Diego  Columbus,  sent  a  party  of  soldiers  to  Jamaica 
to  arrest  Talavera  and  his  pirate  crew.  They  were  brought  in 
chains  to  San  Domingo,  thrown  into  dungeons,  and  tried  tor 
the  robbery  of  the  Genoese  vessel.  Their  crime  was  too  notori 
ous  to  admit  of  doubt,  and  being  convicted,  Talavera  and  sev 
eral  of  his  principal  accomplices  were  hanged.  Such  was  the 
end  of  their  frightful  journey  by  sea  and  land.  Never  had 
vagabonds  travelled  farther  or  toiled  harder  to  arrive  at  a  gal' 
lows! 

In  the  course  of  the  trial  Ojeda  had  naturally  been  summoned 
as  a  witness,  and  his  testimony  must  have  tended  greatly  to 
the  conviction  of  the  culprits.  This  drew  upon  him  the  ven 
geance  of  the  surviving  comrades  of  Talavera,  who  still  lurked 
about  San  Domingo.  As  he  was  returning  home  one  night  at 
a  late  hour  he  was  waylaid  and  set  upon  by  a  number  of  these 
miscreants.  He  displayed  his  usual  spirit.  Setting  his  back 
against  a  wall,  and  drawing  his  sword,  he  defended  himself  ad 
mirably  against  the  whole  gang ;  nor  was  he  content  with  beat 
ing  them  off,  but  pursued  them  for  some  distance  through  the 
streets ;  and  having  thus  put  them  to  utter  rout,  returned  tran 
quil  and  unharmed  to  his  lodgings. 

This  is  the  last  achievement  recorded  of  the  gallant,  but  reck 
less,  Ojeda;  for  here  his  bustling  career  terminated,  and  he 
sank  into  the  obscurity  that  gathers  round  a  ruined  man.  His 
health  was  broken  by  the  various  hardships  he  had  sustained, 
and  by  the  lurking  effects  of  the  wound  received  at  San  Sebas 
tian,  which  had  been  but  imperfectly  cured.  Poverty  and  ne- 


THIRD    VOYAGE  OF  ALONZO  DE  OJEtiA.  71 

gleet,  and  the  corroding  sickness  of  the  heart,  contributed,  no 
less  than  the  maladies  of  the  body,  to  quench  that  sanguine 
and  fiery  temper,  which  had  hitherto  been  the  secret  of  his 
success,  and  to  render  him  the  mere  wreck  of  his  former  self ; 
for  there  is  no  ruin  so  hopeless  and  complete  as  that  of  a  tower 
ing  spirit  humiliated  and  broken  down.  He  appears  to  have 
lingered  some  time  at  San  Domingo.  Gomara,  in  his  history 
of  the  Indies,  affirms  that  he  turned  monk,  and  entered  in  the 
convent  at  San  Francisco,  where  he  died.  Such  a  change 
would  not  have  been  surprising  in  a  man  who,  in  his  wildest 
career,  mingled  the  bigot  with  the  soldier;  nor  was  it  unusual 
with  military  adventurers  in  those  days,  after  passing  their 
youtli  in  the  bustle  and  licentiousness  of  the  camp,  to  end  their 
days  in  the  quiet  and  mortification  of  the  cloister.  Las  Oasas, 
however,  who  was  at  San  Domingo  at  the  time,  makes  no  men 
tion  of  the  fact,  as  he  certainly  would  have  done  had  it  taken 
place.  He  confirms,  however,  all  that  has  been  said  of  the 
striking  reverse  in  his  character  and  circumstances;  and  he 
adds  an  affecting  picture  of  his  last  moments,  which  may  serve 
as  a  wholesome  comment  on  his  life.  He  died  so  poor,  that  he 
did  not  leave  money  enough  to  provide  for  his  interment ;  and 
so  broken  in  spirit,  that,  with  his  last  breath,  he  entreated  his 
body  might  be  buried  in  the  monastery  of  San  Francisco,  just 
at  the  portal,  in  humble  expiation  of  his  past  pride,  "  that  every 
one  icho  entered  might  tread  upon  his  grave. "  * 

Such  was  the  fate  of  Alonzo  de  Ojeda,  —and  who  does  not 
forget  his  errors  and  his  faults  at  the  threshold  of  his  humble 
and  untimely  grave!  He  was  one  of  the  most  fearless  and 
aspiring  of  that  band  of  "Ocean  chivalry"  that  followed  the 
footsteps  of  Columbus.  His  story  presents  a  lively  picture  of 
the  daring  enterprises,  the  extravagant  exploits,  the  thousand 
accidents,  by  flood  and  field,  that  chequered  the  life  of  a 
Spanish  cavalier  in  that  roving  and  romantic  age. 

"Never,"  says  Charlevoix,  "was  man  more  suited  for  a 
coup-de-main,  or  to  achieve  and  suffer  great  things  under  the 
direction  of  another :  none  had  a  heart  more  lofty,  or  ambition 
more  aspiring ;  none  ever  took  less  heed  of  fortune,  or  showed 
greater  firmness  of  soul,  or  found  more  resources  in  his  own 
courage;  but  none  was  less  calculated  to  be  commander-in- 
chief  of  a  great  enterprise.  Good  management  and  good  for 
tune  for  ever  failed  him.  "f 

• 

*  Las  Casas,  ubi  sup.  t  Charlevoix,  Hist.  S.  Doming. 


72  SPANISH   VOYAGES  OF1  DISCOVERY. 


THE  VOYAGE  OF  DIEGO  DE  NICUESA. 


CHAPTER  I. 

NICUESA    SAILS    TO    THE   WESTWARD— HIS    SHIPWRECK    AND  SUB- 
SEQUENT  DISASTERS. 

WE  have  now  to  recount  the  fortunes  experienced  by  the 
gallant  and  generous  Diego  de  Nicuesa,  after  his  parting  from 
Alonzo  de  Ojeda  at  Carthagena.  On  resuming  his  voyage  h« 
embarked  in  a  caravel,  that  he  might  be  able  to  coast  the  land 
and  reconnoitre ;  he  ordered  that  the  two  brigantines,  one  of 
which  was  commanded  by  his  lieutenant,  Lope  de  Olano, 
should  keep  near  to  him,  while  the  large  vessels,  which  drew 
more  water,  should  stand  further  out  to  sea.  The  squadron 
arrived  upon  the  coast  of  Veragua,  in  stormy  weather,  and,  as 
Nicuesa  could  not  find  any  safe  harbour,  and  was  apprehensive 
of  rocks  and  shoals,  he  stood  out  to  sea  at  the  approach  of 
night,  supposing  that  Lope  de  Olano  would  follow  him  with 
the  brigantines  according  to  his  orders.  The  night  was  bois 
terous,  the  caravel  was  much  tossed  and  driven  about,  and 
when  the  morning  dawned,  not  one  of  the  squadron  was  in 
sight. 

Nicuesa  feared  some  accident  had  befallen  the  brigantines ; 
he  stood  for  the  land  and  coasted  along  it  in  search  of  them 
until  he  came  to  a  large  river,  into  which  he  entered  and  came 
to  anchor.  He  had  not  been  here  long  when  the  stream  sud 
denly  subsided,  having  merely  been  swoln  by  the  rains. 
Before  he  had  time  to  extricate  himself  the  caravel  grounded, 
and  at  length  fell  over  on  one  side.  The  current  rushing  like 
a  torrent  strained  the  feeble  bark  to  such  a  degree,  that  her 
seams  yawned,  and  she  appeared  ready  to  go  to  pieces.  In 
this  moment  of  peril  a  hardy  seamen  threw  himself  into  the 
water  to  carry  the  end  of  a  rope  on  shore  as  a  means  of  saving 
the  crew.  He  was  swept  away  by  the  furious  current  and 
perished  in  sight  of  his  companions.  Undismayed  by  his  fata> 


THE   VOYAGE  OF  DIKGO  DE  NIC  VESA.  73 

another  brave  seaman  plunged  into  the  waves  and  succeeded 
in  reaching  the  shore.  He  then  fastened  one  end  of  a  rope 
firmly  to  a  tree,  and,  the  other  being  secured  on  board  of  the 
caravel,  Nicuesa  and  his  crew  passed  one  by  one  along  it,  and 
reached  the  shore  in  safety. 

Scarcely  had  they  landed  when  the  caravel  went  to  pieces, 
and  with  it  perished  their  provisions,  clothing;  and  all  other 
necessaries.  Nothing  remained  to  them  but  the  boat  of  the 
caravel,  which  was  accidentally  cast  on  shore.  Here  then  they 
were,  in  helpless  plight,  on  a  remote  and  savage  coast,  without 
food,  without  arms,  and  almost  naked.  What  had  become  of 
the  rest  of  the  squadron  they  knew  not.  Some  feared  that 
the  brigantines  had  been  wrecked ;  others  called  to  mind  that 
Lope  de  Olano  had  been  one  of  the  loose  lawless  men  confeder 
ated  with  Francisco  Eoldan  in  his  rebellion  against  Columbus, 
and,  judging  him  from  the  school  in  which  he  had  served, 
hinted  their  apprehensions  that  he  had  deserted  with  the  brig 
antines.  Nicuesa  partook  of  their  suspicions,  and  was  anxious 
and  sad  at  heart.  He  concealed  his  uneasiness,  however,  and 
endeavoured  to  cheer  up  his  companions,  proposing  that  they 
should  proceed  westward  on  foot  in  search  of  Veragua,  the  seat 
of  his  intended  government,  observing,  that  if  the  ships  had 
survived  the  tempest,  they  would  probably  repair  to  that 
place.  They  accordingly  set  off  along  the  sea  shore,  for  the 
thickness  of  the  forest  prevented  their  traversing  the  interior. 
Four  of  the  hardiest  sailors  put  to  sea  in  the  boat,  and  kept 
abreast  of  them,  to  help  them  across  the  bays  and  rivers. 

Their  sufferings  were  extreme.  Most  of  them  were  destitute 
of  shoes,  and  many  almost  naked.  They  had  to  clamber  over 
sharp  and  rugged  rocks,  and  to  struggle  through  dense  forests 
beset  with  thorns  and  brambles.  Often  they  had  to  wade 
across  rank  fens  and  morasses  and  drowned  lands,  or  to  trav 
erse  deep  and  rapid  streams. 

Their  food  consisted  of  herbs  and  roots  and  shellfish  gath 
ered  along  the  shore.  Had  they  even  met  with  Indians  they 
would  have  dreaded,  in  their  unarmed  state,  to  apply  to  them 
for  provisions,  lest  they  should  take  revenge  for  the  outrages 
committed  along  this  coast  by  other  Europeans. 

To  render  their  sufferings  more  intolerable,  they  were  in 
doubt  whether,  in  the  storms  which  preceded  their  shipwreck, 
they  had  not  been  driven  past  Veragua,  in  which  case  each 
step  would  take  them  so  much  the  farther  from  their  desired 
haven. 


74  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

Still  they  laboured  feebly  forward,  encouraged  by  the  words 
and  the  example  of  Nicuesa,  who  cheerfully  partook  of  the 
toils  and  hardships  of  the  meanest  of  his  men. 

They  had  slept  one  night  at  the  foot  of  impending  rocks,  and 
were  about  to  resume  their  weary  march  in  the  morning, 
when  they  were  espied  by  some  Indians  from  a  neighbouring 
height.  Among  the  followers  of  Nicuesa  was  a  favourite  page, 
whose  tattered  finery  and  white  hat  caught  the  quick  eyes  of 
the  savages.  One  of  them  immediately  singled  him  out,  and 
taking  a  deadly  aim,  let  fly  an  arrow  that  laid  him  expiring  at 
the  feet  of  his  master.  While  the  generous  cavalier  mourned 
over  his  slaughtered  page,  consternation  prevailed  among  his 
companions,  each  fearing  for  his  own  life.  The  Indians,  how 
ever,  did  not  follow  up  this  casual  act  of  hostility,  but  suffered 
the  Spaniards  to  pursue  their  painful  journey  unmolested. 

Arriving  one  day  at  the  point  of  a  great  bay  that  ran  far 
inland,  they  were  conveyed,  a  few  at  a  time,  in  the  boat  to 
wha.t  appeared  to  be  the  opposite  point.  Being  all  landed,  and 
resuming  their  march,  they  found  to  their  surprise  that  they 
were  on  an  island,  separated  from  the  main  land  by  a  great 
arm  of  the  sea.  The  sailors  who  managed  the  boat  were  too 
weary  to  take  them  to  the  opposite  shore;  they  remained 
therefore  all  night  upon  the  island. 

In  the  morning  they  prepared  to  depart,  but,  to  their  con 
sternation,  the  boat  with  the  four  mariners  had  disappeared. 
They  ran  anxiously  from  point  to  point,  uttering  shouts  and 
cries,  in  hopes  the  boat  might  be  in  some  inlet;  they  clam 
bered  the  rocks  and  strained  their  eyes  over  the  sea.  It  was 
all  in  vain.  No  boat  was  to  be  seen ;  no  voice  responded  to 
their  call ;  it  was  too  evident  the  four  mariners  had  either  per 
ished  or  had  deserted  them. 


CHAPTER  II. 

NICUESA  AND  HIS  MEN    ON   A  DESOLATE  ISLAND. 

THE  situation  of  Nicuesa  and  his  men  was  dreary  and  des 
perate  in  the  extreme.  They  were  on  a  desolate  island  border 
ing  upon  a  swampy  coast,  in  a  remote  and  lonely  sea,  where 
commerce  never  spread  a  sail.  Their  companions  in  the  other 
ships,  if  still  alive  and  true  to  them,  had  doubtless  given  them 


THE   VOYAGE  OF  DIEGO  DE  NICUESA.  75 

up  for  lost ;  and  many  years  might  elapse  before  the  casual 
bark  of  a  discoverer  might  venture  along  these  shores.  Long 
before  that  time  their  fate  would  be  sealed,  and  their  bones 
bleaching  on  the  sands  would  alone  tell  their  story. 

In  this  hopeless  state  many  abandoned  themselves  to  frantic 
grief,  wandering  about  the  island,  wringing  their  hands  and 
uttering  groans  and  lamentations ;  others  called  upon  God  for 
succour,  and  many  sat  down  in  silent  and  sullen  despair. 

The  cravings  of  hunger  and  thirst  at  length  roused  them  to 
exertion.  They  found  no  food  but  a  few  shell-fish  scattered 
along  the  shore,  and  coarse  herbs  and  roots,  some  of  them  of 
an  unwholesome  quality.  The  island  had  neither  springs  nor 
streams  of  fresh  water,  and  they  were  fain  to  slake  their  thirst 
at  the  brackish  pools  of  the  marshes. 

Nicuesa  endeavoured  to  animate  his  men  with  new  hopes. 
He  employed  them  in  constructing  a  raft  of  drift-wood  and 
branches  of  trees,  for  the  purpose  of  crossing  the  arm  of  the 
sea  that  separated  them  from  the  main  land.  It  was  a  difficult 
task,  for  they  were  destitute  of  tools,  and  when  the  raft  was 
finished  they  had  no  oars  with  which  to  manage  it.  Some  of 
the  most  expert  swimmers  undertook  to  propel  it,  but  they 
were  too  much  enfeebled  by  their  sufferings.  On  their  first 
essay  the  currents  which  sweep  that  coast  bore  the  raft  out  to 
sea,  and  they  swam  back  with  difficulty  to  the  island.  Having 
no  other  chance  of  escape,  and  no  other  means  of  exercising 
and  keeping  up  the  spirits  of  his  followers,  Nicuesa  repeatedly 
ordered  new  rafts  to  be  constructed,  but  the  result  was  always 
the  same,  and  the  men  at  length  either  grew  too  feeble  to  work 
or  renounced  the  attempt  in  despair. 

Thus,  day  after  day  and  week  after  week  elapsed  without 
any  mitigation  of  suffering  or  any  prospect  of  relief.  Every 
day  some  one  or  other  sank  under  his  miseries,  a  victim  not  so 
much  to  hunger  and  thirst  as  to  grief  and  despondency.  His 
death  was  envied  by  his  wretched  survivors,  many  of  whom 
were  reduced  to  such  debility  that  they  had  to  crawl  on  hands 
and  knees  in  search  of  the  herbs  and  shell-fish  which  formed 
their  scanty  food. 


76  tiP^MSH   VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERT. 

CHAPTER  III. 

ARRIVAL  OF  A  BOAT— CONDUCT  OF  LOPE  DE  OLANO. 

WHEN  the  unfortunate  Spaniards,  without  hope  of  succour, 
began  to  consider  death  as  a  desirable  end  to  their  miseries, 
they  were  roused  to  new  life  one  day  by  beholding  a  sail  gleam 
ing  on  the  horizon.  Their  exultation  was  checked,  however, 
by  the  reflection  how  many  chances  there  were  against  its 
approaching  this  wild  and  desolate  island.  Watching  it  with 
anxious  eyes  they  put  up  prayers  to  God  to  conduct  it  to  their 
relief,  and  at  length,  to  their  great  joy,  they  perceived  that  it 
was  steering  directly  for  the  island.  On  a  nearer  approach  it 
proved  to  be  one  of  the  brigantines  that  had  been  commanded 
by  Lope  de  Olano.  It  came  to  anchor :  a  boat  put  off,  and 
among  the  crew  were  the  four  sailors  who  had  disappeared  so 
mysteriously  from  the  island. 

These  men  accounted  in  a  satisfactory  manner  for  their  de 
sertion.  They  had  been  persuaded  that  the  ships  were  in  some 
harbour  to  the  eastward,  and  that  they  were  daily  leaving  them 
farther  behind.  Disheartened  at  the  constant,  and,  in  their 
opinion,  fruitless  toil  which  fell  to  their  share  in  the  struggle 
westward,  they  resolved  to  take  their  own  counsel,  without 
risking  the  opposition  of  Nicuesa.  In  the  dead  of  the  night, 
therefore,  when  their  companions  on  the  island  were  asleep, 
they  had  silently  cast  off  their  boat,  and  retraced  their  course 
along  the  coast.  After  several  days'  toil  they  found  the  brig 
antines  under  the  command  of  Lope  de  Olano,  in  the  river  of 
Belen,  the  scene  of  the  disasters  of  Columbus  in  his  fourth 
voyage. 

The  conduct  of  Lope  de  Olano  was  regarded  with  suspicion 
by  his  contemporaries,  and  is  still  subject  to  doubt.  He  is 
supposed  to  have  deserted  Nicuesa  designedly,  intending  to 
usurp  the  command  of  the  expedition,  lien,  however,  were 
prone  to  judge  harshly  of  him  from  his  having  been  concerned 
in  the  treason  and  rebellion  of  Francisco  Boldan.  On  the 
stormy  night  when  Nicuesa  stood  out  to  sea  to  avoid  the  dan 
gers  of  the  shore,  Olano  took  shelter  under  the  lee  of  an  island. 
Seeing  nothing  of  the  caravel  of  his  commander  in  the  morn 
ing,  he  made  no  effort  to  seek  for  it,  but  proceeded  with  the 
tg  fo$  p>er  Ckares,  where  lie  found  the  g 


THE   VOYAGE  OF  DIEGO  DE  NICUESA.  77 

anchor.  They  had  landed  all  their  cargo,  being  almost  in  a 
sinking  condition  from  the  ravages  of  the  worms.  Olano  per 
suaded  the  crews  that  Nicuesa  had  perished  in  the  late  storm, 
and,  being  his  lieutenant,  he  assumed  the  command.  Whether 
he  had  been  perfidious  or  not  in  his  motives,  his  command  was 
but  a  succession  of  disasters.  He  sailed  from  Chagres  for  the 
river  of.  Belen,  where  the  ships  were  found  so  damaged  that 
they  had  to  be  broken  to  pieces.  Most  of  the  people  construct 
ed  wretched  cabins  on  the  shore,  where,  during  a  sudden 
storm,  they  were  almost  washed  away  by  the  swelling  of  the 
river,  or  swallowed  up  in  the  shifting  sands.  Several  of  his 
men  were  drowned  in  an  expedition  in  quest  of  gold,  and  he 
himself  merely  escaped  by  superior  swimming.  Their  provi 
sions  were  exhausted,  they  suffered  from  hunger  and  from  va 
rious  maladies,  and  many  perished  in  extreme  misery.  All 
were  clamorous  to  abandon  the  coast,  and  Olano  set  about  con 
structing  a  caravel,  out  of  the  wreck  of  the  ships,  for  the  pur 
pose,  as  he  said,  of  returning  to  Hispaniola,  though  many 
suspected  it  was  still  his  intention  to  persist  in  the  enterprise. 
Such  was  the  state  in  which  the  four  seamen  had  found  Olano 
and  his  party ;  most  of  them  living  in  miserable  cabins  and 
destitute  of  the  necessaries  of  life. 

„  The  tidings  that  Nicuesa  was  still  alive  put  an  end  to  the 
sway  of  Olano.  Whether  he  had  acted  with  truth  or  perfidy, 
he  now  manifested  a  zeal  to  relieve  his  commander,  and  imme 
diately  despatched  a  brigantine  in  quest  of  him,  which,  guided 
by  the  four  seamen,  arrived  at  the  island  in  the  way  that  hcu 
been  mentioned. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

NICUESA  REJOINS  HIS  CREWS. 

WHEN  the  crew  of  the  brigantine  and  the  companions  of 
Nicuesa  met,  they  embraced  each  other  with  tears,  for  the 
hearts,  even  of  the  rough  mariners,  were  subdued  by  the  sor 
rows  they  had  undergone ;  and  men  are  rendered  kind  to  each 
other  by  a  community  of  suffering.  The  briganfcine  had 
brought  a  quantity  of  palm  nuts,  and  of  such  other  articles  of 
food  as  they  had  been  able  to  procure  along  the  coast.  These 
the  famished  Spaniards  devoured  with  such  voracity  that 
Nicuesa  was  obliged  to  interfere,  l^f-  t>ir»v  «hould  injure  them- 


78  SPANISH   VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERT. 

selves.  Nor  was  the  supply  of  fresh  water  less  grateful  to 
their  parched  and  fevered  palates. 

When  sufficiently  revived,  they  all  abandoned  the  desolate 
island,  and  set  sail  for  the  river  Belen,  exulting  as  joyfully  as 
if  their  troubles  were  at  an  end,  and  they  were  bound  to  a 
haven  of  delight,  instead  of  merely  changing  the  scene  of 
suffering  and  encountering  a  new  variety  of  horrors. 

In  the  mean  time  Lope  de  Olano  had  been  diligently  prepar 
ing  for  the  approaching  interview  with  his  commander,  by 
persuading  his  fellow  officers  to  intercede  in  his  behalf,  and  to 
place  his  late  conduct  in  the  most  favourable  light.  He  had 
need  of  their  intercessions.  Nicuesa  arrived,  burning  with 
indignation.  He  ordered  him  to  be  instantly  seized  and  pun 
ished  as  a  traitor ;  attributing  to  his  desertion  the  ruin  of  the 
enterprise  and  the  sufferings  and  death  of  so  many  of  his  brave 
followers.  The  fellow  captains  of  Olano  spoke  in  his  favour ; 
but  Nicuesa  turned  indignantly  upon  them:  "You  do  well," 
cried  he,  ' '  to  supplicate  mercy  for  him ;  you,  who,  yourselves, 
have  need  of  pardon!  You  have  participated  in  his  crime; 
why  else  have  you  suffered  so  long  a  time  to  elapse  without 
compelling  him  to  send  one  of  the  vessels  in  search  of  me?" 

The  captains  now  vindicated  themselves  by  assurances  of 
their  belief  in  his  having  foundered  at  sea.  They  reiterated 
their  supplications  for  mercy  to  Olano;  drawing  the  most 
affecting  pictures  of  their  past  and  present  sufferings,  and 
urging  the  impolicy  of  increasing  the  horrors  of  their  situation 
by  acts  of  severity.  Nicuesa  at  length  was  prevailed  upon  to 
spare  his  victim;  resolving  to  send  him,  by  the  first  opportun 
ity,  a  prisoner  to  Spain.  It  appeared,  in  truth,  no  time  to  add 
to  the  daily  blows  of  fate  that  were  thinning  the  number  of 
his  followers.  Of  the  gallant  armament  of  seven  hundred 
resolute  and  effective  men  that  had  sailed  with  him  from 
San  Domingo,  four  hundred  had  already  perished  by  various 
miseries ;  and  of  the  survivors,  many  could  scarcely  be  said  to 
live. 


CHAPTER  V. 

SUFFERINGS    OF    NICUESA    AND    HIS    MEN    ON    THE  COAST  OF  THE 

ISTHMUS. 

THE  first  care  of  Nicuesa,  on  resuming  the  general  command, 
was  to  take  moa cures  for  the  relief  of  his  people,  w1^  ™w» 


THE   VOYAGE  OF  DIEGO  DE  NICUE8A.  79 

perishing  with  famine  and  disease.  All  those  who  were  in 
health,  or  who  had  strength  cufficient  to  bear  the  least  fatigue, 
were  sent  on  foraging  parties  among  the  fields  and  villages  of 
the  natives.  It  was  a  service  of  extreme  peril ;  for  the  Indians 
cf  this  part  of  the  coast  were  fierce  and  warlike,  and  were  the 
same  who  had  proved  so  formidable  to  Columbus  and  his 
brother  when  -they  attempted  to  found  a  settlement  in  this 
neighbourhood. 

Many  of  the  Spaniards  were  slain  in  these  expeditions.  Even 
if  they  succeeded  in  collecting  provisions,  the  toil  of  bringing 
them  to  the  harbour  was  worse  to  men  in  their  enfeebled  con 
dition  than  the  task  of  fighting  for  them ;  for  they  were  obliged 
to  transport  them  on  their  backs,  and,  thus  heavily  laden,  to 
scramble  over  rugged  rocks,  through  almost  impervious 
forests,  and  across  dismal  swamps. 

Harassed  by  these  perils  and  fatigues,  they  broke  forth  into 
murmurs  against  their  commander,  accusing  him,  not  merely 
of  indifference  to  their  sufferings,  but  of  wantonly  imposing 
severe  and  unnecessary  tasks  upon  them  out  of  revenge  for 
their  having  neglected  him. 

The  genial  temper  of  Nicuesa  had,  in  fact,  been  soured  by 
disappointment;  and  a  series  of  harassing  cares  and  evils  had 
rendered  him  irritable  and  impatient ;  but  he  was  a  cavalier  of 
a  generous  and  honourable  nature,  and  does  not  appear  to  have 
enforced  any  services  that  were  not  indispensable  to  the  com 
mon  safety.  In  fact,  the  famine  had  increased  to  such  a 
degree,  that,  we  are  told,  thirty  Spaniards,  having  on  one 
occasion  found  the  dead  body  of  an  Indian  in  a  state  of  decay, 
they  were  driven  by  hunger  to  make  a  meal  of  it,  and  were  so 
infected  by  the  horrible  repast,  that  not  one  of  them  survived.* 

Disheartened  by  these  miseries,  Nicuesa  determined  to  aban 
don  a  place  which  seemed  destined  to  be  the  grave  of  Span 
iards.  Embarking  the  greater  part  of  his  men  in  the  two 
brigantines  and  the -caravel  which  had  been  built  by  Olano,  he 
set  sail  eastward  in  search  of  some  more  favourable  situation 
for  his  settlement.  A  number  of  the  men  remained  behind  to 
await  the  ripening  of  some  maize  and  vegetables  which  they 
had  sown.  These  he  left  under  the  command  of  Alonzo  Nunez, 
whom  he  nominated  his  Alcalde  Mayor. 

When  Nicuesa  had  coasted  about  four  leagues  to  the  east,  a 
Genoese  sailor,  who  had  been  with  Columbus  in  his  last  voy- 

*  Herrera,  Hist,  lud.  p.  i.  and  viii,  c.  2, 


80  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

age,  informed  him  that  there  was  a  fine  harbour  somewhere 
in  that  neighbourhood,  which  had  pleased  the  old  admiral  so 
highly  that  he  had  given  it  the  name  of  Puerto  Bello.  He 
added  that  they  might  know  the  harbour  by  an  anchor,  hall' 
buried  in  the  sand,  which  Columbus  had  left  there;  near  to 
which  was  a  fountain  of  remarkably  cool  and  sweet  water 
springing  up  at  the  foot  of  a  large  tree.  Nicuesa  ordered 
search  to  be  made  along  the  coast,  and  at  length  they  found 
the  anchor,  the  fountain,  and  the  tree.  It  was  the  same  har 
bour  which  bears  the  name  of  Portobello  at  the  present  day. 
A  number  of  the  crew  were  sent  on  shore  in  search  of  provi 
sions,  but  were  assailed  by  the  Indians ;  and,  being  too  weak 
to  wield  their  weapons  with  their  usual  prowess,  were  driven 
back  to  the  vessels  with  the  loss  of  several  slain  or  wounded. 

Dejected  at  these  continual  misfortunes,  Nicuesa  continued 
his  voyage  seven  leagues  farther,  until  he  came  to  the  harbour 
to  which  Columbus  had  given  the  name  of  Puerto  de  Bastimi- 
entos,  or  Port  of  Provisions.  It  presented  an  advantageous 
situation  for  a  fortress,  and  was  surrounded  by  a  fruitful  coun 
try.  Nicuesa  resolved  to  make  it  his  abiding  place.  l '  Here, " 
said  he,  ' '  let  us  stop,  en  el  nombre  de  Dios  /"  (in  the  name  of 
God.)  His  followers,  with  the  superstitious  feeling  with 
which  men  in  adversity  are  prone  to  interpret  every  thing 
into  omens,  persuaded  themselves  that  there  was  favourable 
augury  in  his  words,  and  called  the  harbour  "Nombre  de 
Dios,"  which  name  it  afterwards  retained. 

Nicuesa  now  landed,  and,  drawing  his  sword,  took  solemn 
possession  in  the  name  of  the  Catholic  sovereigns.  He  im 
mediately  began  to  erect  a  fortress  to  protect  his  people 
against  the  attacks  of  the  savages.  As  this  was  a  case  of  exi 
gency,  he  exacted  the  labour  of  every  one  capable  of  exertion. 
The  Spaniards,  thus  equally  distressed  by  famine  and  toil,  for 
got  their  favourable  omen,  cursed  the  place  as  fated  to  be  their 
grave,  and  called  down  imprecations  on  the  head  of  their  com 
mander,  who  compelled  them  to  labour  when  ready  to  sink 
with  hunger  and  debility.  Those  murmured  no  less  who  were 
sent  in  quest  of  food,  which  was  only  to  be  gained  by  fatigue 
and  bloodshed;  for,  whatever  they  collected,  they  had  to 
transport  from  great  distances,  and  they  were  frequently 
waylaid  and  assaulted  by  the  Indians. 

When  he  could  spare  men  for  the  purpose,  Nicuesa  de 
spatched  the  caravel  for  those  whom  he  had  left  at  the  river 
Belen.  Many  of  them  had  perished,  and  the  survivors  had 


THE   VOYAGE  OF  DIEGO  DE  NICUESA.  gl 

been  reduced  to  such  famine  at  times  as  to  eat  all  kinds  of 
reptiles,  until  a  part  of  an  alligator  was  a  banquet  to  them. 
On  mustering  all  his  forces  when  thus  united,  Nicuesa  found 
that  but  one  hundred  emaciated  and  dejected  wretches  re 
mained. 

He  despatched  the  caravel  to  Hispaniola,  to  bring  a  quan 
tity  of  bacon  which  he  had  ordered  to  have  prepared  there, 
but  it  never  returned.  He  ordered  Gonzalo  de  Badajos,  at  the, 
head  of  twenty  men,  to  scour  the  country  for  provisions ;  but 
the  Indians  had  ceased  to  cultivate ;  they  could  do  with  little 
food,  and  could  subsist  on  the  roots  and  wild  fruits  of  the  forest. 
The  Spaniards,  therefore,  found  deserted  villages  and  barren 
fields,  but  lurking  enemies  at  every  defile.  So  deplorably 
were  they  reduced  by  their  sufferings,  that  at  length  there 
were  not  left  a  sufficient  number  in  health  and  strength  to 
mount  guard  at  night;  and  the  fortress  remained  without 
sentinels.  Such  was  the  desperate  situation  of  this  once  gay 
and  gallant  cavalier,  and  of  his  brilliant  armament,  which  but 
.a  few  months  before  had  sallied  from  San  Domingo,  flushed 
with  the  consciousness  of  power  and  the  assurance  that  they 
had  the  means  of  compelling  the  favours  of  fortune. 

It  is  necessary  to  leave  them  for  a  while,  and  turn  our  atten 
tion  to  other  events  which  will  ultimately  be  found  to  bear 
upon  their  destinies. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

EXPEDITION  OF  THE  BACHELOR    ENCISO  IN  SEARCH  OB1  THE  SEAT 
OF  GOVERNMENT   OF   OJEDA. — (1510.) 

IN  calling  to  mind  the  narrative  of  the  last  expedition  of 
Alonzo  de  Ojeda,  the  reader  will  doubtless  remember  the 
Bachelor  Martin  Fernandez  de  Enciso,  who  was  inspired  by 
that  adventurous  cavalier  with  an  ill-starred  passion  for 
colonizing,  and  freighted  a  vessel  at  San  Domingo  with  rein 
forcements  and  supplies  for  the  settlement  at  San  Sebastian. 

When  the  Bachelor  was  on  the  eve  of  sailing,  a  number  of 
the  loose  hangers-on  of  the  colony,  and  men  encumbered  with 
debt,  concerted  to  join  his  ship  from  the  coast  and  the  out- 
ports.  Their  creditors,  however,  getting  notice  of  their  inten 
tion,  kept  a  close  watch  upon  every  one  that  went  on  board 


82  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

while  in  the  harbour,  and  obtained  an  armed  vessel  from  the 
Admiral  Don  Diego  Columbus,  to  escort  the  enterprising  Bach 
elor  clear  of  the  island.  One  man,  however,  contrived  to 
elude  these  precautions,  and  as  he  afterwards  rose  to  great 
importance,  it  is  proper  to  notice  him  particularly.  His  name 
was  Vasco  Nuiiez  de  Balboa.  He  was  a  native  of  Xeres  de  los 
Caballeros,  and  of  a  noble  though  impoverished  family.  He 
had  been  brought  up  in  the  service  of  Don  Puerto  Carrero, 
Lord  of  Moguer,  and  he  afterwards  enlisted  among  the  adven 
turers  who  accompanied  Rodrigo  de  Bastides  in  his  voyage  of 
discovery.  Peter  Martyr,  in  his  Latin  decades,  speaks  of  Mm 
by  the  appellation  of  "egregius  digladiator, "  which  has  been 
interpreted  by  some  as  a  skilful  swordsman,  by  others  as  an 
adroit  fencing  master.  He  intimates,  also,  that  he  was  a  mere 
soldier  of  fortune,  of  loose  prodigal  habits,  and  the  circum 
stances  under  which  he  is  first  introduced  to  us  justify  this 
character.  He  had  fixed  himself  for  a  time  in  Hispaniola,  and 
undertaken  to  cultivate  a  farm  at  the  town  of  Salvatierra,  on 
the  sea  coast,  but  in  a  little  time  had  completely  involved  him 
self  in  debt.  The  expedition  of  Enciso  presented  him  with  an 
opportunity  of  escaping  from  his  embarrassments,  and  of  in 
dulging  his  adventurous  habits.  To  elude  the  vigilance  of  his 
creditors  and  of  the  armed  escort,  he  concealed  himself  in  a 
cask,  which  was  conveyed  from  Ms  farm  on  the  sea  coast  on 
board  of  the  vessel,  as  if  containing  provisions  for  the  voyage. 
When  the  vessel  was  fairly  out  at  sea,  and  abandoned  by  the 
escort,  Vasco  Nunez  emerged  like  an  apparition  from  his  cask, 
to  the  great  surprise  of  Enciso,  who  had  been  totally  ignorant 
of  the  stratagem.  The  Bachelor  was  indignant  at  being  thus 
outwitted,  even  though  he  gained  a  recruit  by  the  deception ; 
and  in  the  first  ebullition  of  his  wrath  gave  the  fugitive  debtor 
a  very  rough  reception,  threatening  to  put  him  on  shore  on 
the  first  uninhabited  island  they  should  encounter.  Vasco 
Nuiiez,  however,  succeeded  in  pacifying  Mm,  "for  God,"  says 
the  venerable  Las  Casas,  ' '  reserved  him  for  greater  things. "  It 
is  probable  the  Bachelor  beheld  in  him  a  man  well  fitted  for 
his  expedition,  for  Vasco  Nuiiez  was  in  the  prime  and  vigour 
of  his  days,  tall  and  muscular,  seasoned  to  hardsMps,  and  of 
intrepid  spirit. 

Arriving  at  the  mam  land,  they  touched  at  the  fatal  harbour 
of  Carthagena,  the  scene  of  the  sanguinary  conflicts  of  Ojeda 
and  Nicuesa  with  the  natives,  and  of  the  death  of  the  brave  Juan 
de  la  Gosa.  Enciso  was  ignorant  of  those  events,  having  had 


THE    VOYAGE  OF  DIEGO  DE  NICUESA.  83 

no  tidings  from  those  adventurers  since  their  departure  from 
San  Domingo ;  without  any  hesitation,  therefore,  he  landed  a 
number  of  his  men  to  repair  his  boat,  which  was  damaged, 
and  to  procure  water.  While  the  men  were  working  upon  the 
boat,  a  multitude  of  Indians  gathered  at  a  distance,  well 
armed,  and  with  menacing  aspect,  sounding  their  shells  and 
brandishing  their  weapons.  The  experience  they  had  had  of 
the  tremendous  powers  of  the  strangers,  however,  rendered 
them  cautious  of  attacking,  and  for  three  days  they  hovered 
in  this  manner  about  the  Spaniards,  the  latter  being  obliged  to 
keep  continually  on  the  alert.  At  length  two  of  the  Spaniards 
ventured  one  day  from  the  main  body  to  fill  a  water  cask  from 
the  adjacent  river.  Scarcely  had  they  reached  the  margin  of 
the  stream,  when  eleven  savages  sprang  from  the  thickets  and 
surrounded  them,  bending  their  bows  and  pointing  their 
arrows.  In  this  way  they  stood  for  a  moment  or  two  in  fear 
ful  suspense,  the  Indians  refraining  from  discharging  their 
shafts,  but  keeping  them  constantly  pointed  at  their  breasts. 
One  of  the  Spaniards  attempted  to  escape  to  his  comrades, 
who  were  repairing  the  boat,  but  the  other  called  him  back, 
and  understanding  something  of  the  Indian  tongue,  addressed 
a  few  amicable  words  to  the  savages.  The  latter,  astonished 
at  being  spoken  to  in  their  own  language,  now  relaxed  a  little 
from  their  fierceness,  and  demanded  of  the  strangers  who  they 
were,  who  were  their  leaders,  and  what  they  sought  upon  their 
shores.  The  Spaniard  replied  that  they  were  harmless  people 
who  came  from  other  lands,  and  merely  touched  there  through 
necessity,  and  he  wondered  that  they  should  meet  them  with 
such  hostility ;  he  at  the  same  time  warned  them  to  beware, 
as  there  would  come  many  of  his  countrymen  well  armed,  and 
would  wreak  terrible  vengeance  upon  them  for  any  mischief 
they  might  do.  While  they  were  thus  parleying,  the  Bachelor 
Enciso,  hearing  that  two  of  his  men  were  surrounded  by  the 
savages,  sallied  instantly  from  his  ship,  and  hastened  with  an 
armed  force  to  their  rescue.  As  he  approached,  however,  the 
Spaniard  who  had  held  the  parley  made  him  a  signal  that  the 
natives  were  pacific.  In  fact,  the  latter  had  supposed  that 
this  was  a  new  invasion  of  Ojeda  and  Nicuesa,  and  had  thus 
arrayed  themselves,  if  not  to  take  vengeance  for  past  out 
rages,  at  least  to  defend  their  houses  from  a  second  desolation. 
When  they  were  convinced,  however,  that  these  were  a  totally 
different  band  of  strangers,  and  without  hostile  intentions, 
their  animosity  was  at  an  end ;  they  threw  by  their  weapons 


84  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

and  came  forward  with  the  most  confiding  frankness.  During 
the  whole  time  that  the  Spaniards  remained  there,  they 
treated  them  with  the  greatest  friendship,  supplying  them 
with  bread  made  from  maize,  with  salted  fish,  and  with  the 
fermented  and  spirituous  beverages  common  along  that  coast. 
Such  was  the  magnanimous  conduct  of  men  who  were  con 
sidered  among  the  most  ferocious  and  warlike  of  these  savage 
nations;  and  who  but  recently  had  beheld  their  shores  in 
vaded,  their  villages  ravaged  and  burnt,  and  their  friends  and 
relations  butchered,  without  regard  to  age  or  sex,  by  the 
countrymen  of  these  very  strangers.  When  we  recall  the 
bloody  and  indiscriminate  vengeance  wreaked  upon  this  people 
by  Ojeda  and  his  followers  for  their  justifiable  resistance  of 
invasion,  and  compare  it  with  their  placable  and  considerate 
spirit  when  an  opportunity  for  revenge  presented  itself,  we 
confess  we  feel  a  momentary  doubt  whether  the  arbitrary  ap 
pellation  of  savage  is  always  applied  to  the  right  party. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    BACHELOR    HEARS    UNWELCOME    TIDINGS    OF    HIS    DESTINED 
JURISDICTION. 

NOT  long  after  the  arrival  of  Enciso  at  this  eventful  harbour 
he  was  surprised  by  the  circumstance  of  a  brigantine  entering 
and  coming  to  anchor.  To  encounter  an  European  sail  in  these 
almost  unknown  seas,  was  always  a  singular  and  striking  oc 
currence,  but  the  astonishment  of  the  Bachelor  was  mingled 
with  alarm  when,  on  boarding  the  brigantine,  te  found  that  it 
was  manned  by  a  number  of  the  men  who  had  embarked  with 
Ojeda.  His  first  idea  was,  that  they  had  mutinied  against  their 
commander,  and  deserted  with  the  vessel.  The  feelings  of  the 
magistrate  were  aroused  within  him  by  the  suspicion,  and  ho 
determined  to  take  his  first  step  as  Alcalde  Mayor,  by  seizing 
them  and  inflicting  on  them  the  severity  of  the  law.  He  al 
tered  his  tone,  however,  on  conversing  with  their  resolute 
commander.  This  was  no  other  than  Francisco  Pizarro, 
whom  Ojeda  had  left  as  his  locum  tenons  at  San  Sebastian, 
and  who  showed  the  Bachelor  his  letter  patent,  signed  by  that 
unfortunate  governor.  In  fact,  the  little  brigantine  contained 
the  sad  remnant  of  the  once  vaunted  colony.  After  the  de- 


THE   VOYAGE  OF  DIEGO  DE  NICUESA.  85 

parture  of  Ojeda  in  the  pirate  ship,  his  followers,  whom  he 
had  left  behind  under  the  command  of  Pizarro,  continued  in 
the  fortress  until  the  stipulated  term  of  fifty  days  had  expired. 
Eeceiving  no  succour,  and  hearing  no  tidings  of  Ojeda,  they 
then  determined  to  embark  and  sail  for  Hispaniola ;  but  here 
an  unthought-of  difficulty  presented  itself :  they  were  seventy 
in  number,  and  the  two  brigantines  which  had  been  left  with 
them  were  incapable  of  taking  so  many.  They  came  to  the 
forlorn  agreement,  therefore,  to  remain  until  famine,  sickness, 
and  the  poisoned  arrows  of  the  Indians  should  reduce  their 
number  to  the  capacity  of  the  brigantines.  A  brief  space  of 
time  was  sufficient  for  the  purpose.  They  then  prepared  for 
the  voyage.  Four  mares,  which  had  been  kept  alive  as  ter 
rors  to  the  Indians,  were  killed  and  salted  for  sea-stores.  Then 
taking  whatever  other  articles  of  provision  remained,  they  em 
barked  and  made  sail.  One  brigantine  was  commanded  by 
Pizarro,  the  other  by  one  Valenzuela. 

They  had  not  proceeded  far  when,  in  a  storm,  a  sea  struck 
the  crazy  vessel  of  Valenzuela  with  such  violence  as  to  cause 
it  to  founder  with  all  its  crew.  The  other  brigantine  was  so 
near  that  the  mariners  witnessed  the  struggles  of  their  drown 
ing  companions  and  heard  their  cries.  Some  of  the  sailors, 
with  the  common  disposition  to  the  marvellous,  declared  that 
they  had  beheld  a  great  whale,  or  some  other  monster  of  the 
deep,  strike  the  vessel  with  its  tail,  and  either  stave  in  its  sides 
or  shatter  the  rudder,  so  as  to  cause  the  shipwreck.*  The  sur 
viving  brigantine  then  made  the  best  of  its  way  to  the  harbour 
of  Carthagena,  to  seek  provisions. 

Such  was  the  disastrous  account  rendered  to  the  Bachelor  by 
Pizarro,  of  his  destined  jurisdiction.  Enciso,  however,  was  of 
a  confident  mind  and  sanguine  temperament,  and  trusted  to 
restore  all  things  to  order  and  prosperity  on  his  arrival. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

CRUSADE  OF  THE    BACHELOR    ENCISO  AGAINST    THE    SEPULCHRES 

OP  ZENU. 

THE  Bachelor  Enciso,  as  has  been  shown,  was  a  man  of  the 
sword  as  well  as  of  the  robe ;  having  doubtless  imbibed  a  pas- 


*  Herrera,  Hist.  Ind.  d.  i.  1.  vii.  c.  Id 


86  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

sion  for  military  exploit  from  his  intimacy  with  the  discos 
erers.  Accordingly,  while  at  Carthagena,  he  was  visited  by 
an  impulse  of  the  kind,  and  undertook  an  enterprise  that 
would  have  been  worthy  of  his  friend  Ojeda.  He  had  been 
told  by  the  Indians  that  about  twenty-five  leagues  to  the  west 
lay  a  province  called  Zenu,  the  mountains  of  which  abounded 
with  the  finest  gold.  This  was  washed  down  by  torrents  during 
the  rainy  season,  in  such  quantities  that  the  natives  stretched 
nets  across  the  rivers  to  catch  the  largest  particles ;  some  of 
which  were  said  to  be  as  large  as  eggs. 

The  idea  of  taking  gold  in  nets  captivated  the  imagination  of 
the  Bachelor,  and  his  cupidity  was  still  more  excited  by  further 
accounts  of  this  wealthy  province.  He  was  told  that  Zenu  was 
the  general  place  of  sepulture  of  the  Indian  tribes  through 
out  the  country,  whither  they  brought  their  dead,  and  buried 
them,  according  to  their  custom,  decorated  with  their  most 
precious  ornaments. 

It  appeared  to  him  a  matter  of  course,  therefore,  that  there 
must  be  an  immense  accumulation  of  riches  in  the  Indian 
tombs,  from  the  golden  ornaments  that  had  been  buried  with 
the  dead  through  a  long  series  of  generations.  Fired  with  the 
thought,  he  determined  to  make  a  foray  into  this  province, 
and  to  sack  the  sepulchres !  Neither  did  he  feel  any  compunc 
tion  at  the  idea  of  plundering  the  dead,  considering  the  de 
ceased  as  pagans  and  infidels,  who  had  forfeited  even  the 
sanctuary  of  the  grave,  by  having  been  buried  according  to 
the  rites  and  ceremonies  of  their  idolatrous  religion. 

Enciso,  accordingly,  made  sail  from  Carthagena  and  landed 
with  his  forces  on  the  coast  of  Zenu.  Here  he  was  promptly 
opposed  by  two  caciques,  at  the  head  of  a  large  band  of  war 
riors.  The  Bachelor,  though  he  had  thus  put  on  the  soldier, 
retained  sufficient  of  the  spirit  of  his  former  calling  not  to  enter 
into  quarrel  without  taking  care  to  have  the  law  on  his  side ; 
he  proceeded  regularly,  therefore,  according  to  the  legal  form 
recently  enjoined  by  the  crown.  He  caused  to  be  read  and 
interpreted  to  the  caciques  the  same  formula  used  by  Ojeda, 
expounding  the  nature  of  the  Deity,  the  supremacy  of  the  pope, 
and  the  right  of  the  Catholic  sovereigns  to  all  these  lands,  by 
virtue  of  a  grant  from  his  holiness.  The  caciques  listened  to 
the  whole  very  attentively  and  without  interruption,  accord 
ing  to  the  laws  of  Indian  courtesy.  They  then  replied  that,  as 
to  the  assertion  that  there  was  but  one  God,  the  sovereign  of 
heaven  and  earth,  it  seemed  to  them  good,  and  that  such  must 


THE  VOYAGE  OF  DIEGO  DE  NICUE8A.  87 

be  the  case ;  but  as  to  the  doctrine  that  the  pope  was  regent  of 
the  world  in  place  of  God,  and  that  he  had  made  a  grant  of 
their  country  to  the  Spanish  king,  they  observed  that  the  pope 
must  have  been  drunk  to  give  away  what  was  not  his,  and  the 
king  must  have  been  somewhat  mad  to  ask  at  his  hands  what 
belonged  to  others.  They  added,  that  they  were  lords  of  those 
lands  and  needed  no  other  sovereign,  and  if  this  king  should 
come  to  take  possession,  they  would  cut  off  his  head  and  put  it 
on  a  pole ;  that  being  their  mode  of  dealing  with  their  enemies. 
— As  an  illustration  of  this  custom  they  pointed  out  to  Enciso 
the  very  uncomfortable  spectacle  of  a  row  of  grizzly  heads  im 
paled  in  the  neighbourhood. 

Nothing  daunted  either  by  the  reply  or  the  illustration,  the 
Bachelor  menaced  them  with  war  and  slavery  as  the  conse 
quences  of  their  refusal  to  believe  and  submit.  They  replied 
by  threatening  to  put  his  head  upon  a  pole  as  a  representative 
of  his  sovereign.  The  Bachelor,  having  furnished  them  with 
the  law,  now  proceeded  to  the  commentary.  He  attacked  the 
Indians,  routed  them,  and  took  one  of  the  caciques  prisoner, 
but  in  the  skirmish  two  of  his  men  were  slightly  wounded  with 
poisoned  arrows,  and  died  raving  with  torment.* 

"It  does  not  appear,  however,  that  his  crusade  against  the  se 
pulchres  was  attended  with  any  lucrative  advantage.  Perhaps 
the  experience  he  had  received  of  the  hostility  of  the  natives, 
and  of  the  fatal  effects  of  their  poisoned  arrows,  prevented  his 
penetrating  into  the  land  with  his  scanty  force.  Certain  it  is, 
the  reputed  wealth  of  Zenu,  and  the  tale  of  its  fishery  for  gold 
with  nets,  remained  unascertained  and  uncontradicted,  and 
were  the  cause  of  subsequent  and  disastrous  enterprises.  The 
Bachelor  contented  himself  with  his  victory,  aiid  returning  to 
his  ships,  prepared  to  continue  his  voyage  for  the  seat  of  gov 
ernment  established  by  Ojeda  in  the  Gulf  of  Uraba. 


*  The  above  anecdote  is  related  by  the  Bachelor  Enciso  himself,  in  a  geographical 
work  entitled  Suma  de  Geographia,  which  he  published  in  Seville,  in  1519.  As  the 
reply  of  the  poor  savages  contains  something  of  natural  logic  we  give  a  part  of  it 
as  reported  by  the  Bachelor.  "  Respondieron  me:  que  en  lo  que  dezia  que  no  avia 
sino  un  dios  y  que  este  governaba  el  cielo  y  la  tierra  y  que  era  senor  de  todo  que  les 
parecia  y  que  asi  debia  ser:  pero  que  en  lo  que  dezia  que  el  papa  era  senor  de  todo 
el  universe  en  lugar  de  dios  y  que  el  avia  fecho  merced  de  aquella  tierra  al  rey  de 
Castilla;  dixeron  que  el  papa  debiera  estar  borachoquando  lo  hizo  pues  daba  lo  que 
no  era  suyo,  y  que  el  rey  que  pedia  y  tomava  ttu  merced  debia  ser  algun  loco  pues 
pedia  lo  que  era  de  otros,"  etc. 


88  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERT. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  BACHELOR  ARRIVES  AT  SAN  SEBASTIAN— HIS  DISASTERS 
THERE,  AND  SUBSEQUENT  EXPLOITS  AT  DARIEN. 

IT  was  not  without  extreme  difficulty,  and  the  peremptory 
exercise  of  his  authority  as  Alcalde  Mayor,  that  Enciso  pre 
vailed  upon  the  crew  of  Pizarro  to  return  with  him  to  the  fated 
shores  of  San  Sebastian.  He  at  length  arrived  in  sight  of  the 
long-wished-for  seat  of  his  anticipated  power  and  authority; 
but  here  he  was  doomed  like  his  principal,  Ojeda,  to  meet  with 
nothing  but  misfortune.  On  entering  the  harbour  his  vessel 
struck  on  a  rock  on  the  eastern  point.  '  The  rapid  currents  and 
tumultuous  waves  rent  it  to  pieces;  the  crew  escaped  with 
great  difficulty  to  the  brigantine  of  Pizarro ;  a  little  flour,  cheese, 
and  biscuit,  and  a  small  part  of  the  arms  were  saved,  but  the 
horses,  mares,  swine,  and  all  other  colonial  supplies  were  swept 
away,  and  the  unfortunate  Bachelor  beheld  the  proceeds  of 
several  years  of  prosperous  litigation  swallowed  up  in  an  in 
stant. 

His  dream  of  place  and  dignity  seemed  equally  on  the  point 
of  vanishing,  for,  on  landing,  he  found  the  fortress  and  its 
adjacent  houses  mere  heaps  of  ruins,  having  been  destroyed 
with  fire  by  the  Indians. 

For  a  few  days  the  Spaniards  maintained  themselves  with 
palm  nuts,  and  with  the  flesh  of  a  kind  of  wild  swine,  of  which 
they  met  with  several  herds.  These  supplies  failing,  the  Bache 
lor  sallied  forth  with  a  hundred  men  to  forage  the  country. 
They  were  waylaid  by  three  Indians,  who  discharged  all  the 
arrows  in  their  quivers  with  incredible  rapidity,  wounded 
several  Spaniards,  and  then  fled  with  a  swiftness  that  defied 
pursuit.  The  Spaniards  returned  to  the  harbour  in  dismay. 
All  their  dread  of  the  lurking  savages  and  their  poisoned  wea 
pons  revived,  and  they  insisted  upon  abandoning  a  place  marked 
out  for  disaster. 

The  Bachelor  Enciso  was  himself  disheartened  at  the  situation 
of  this  boasted  capital  of  San  Sebastian ;— but  whither  could  he 
go  where  the  same  misfortunes  might  not  attend  him?  In  this 
moment  of  doubt  and  despondency,  Vasco  Nunez,  the  same 
absconding  debtor  who  had  been  smuggled  on  board  in  the 
cask,  stepped  forward  to  give  counsel.  He  informed  the 


THE   VOYAGE  OF  DIEGO  DE  NICUESA.  89 

Bachelor  that  several  years  previously  he  had  sailed  along  that 
coast  with  Rodrigo  de  Bastides.  They  had  explored  the  whole 
gulf  of  Uraba ;  and  he  well  remembered  an  Indian  village  situ 
ated  on  the  western  side,  on  the  banks  of  a  river  which  the 
natives  called  Darien.  The  country  around  was  fertile  and 
abundant,  and  was  said  to  possess  mines  of  gold ;  and  the  na 
tives,  though  a  warlike  race,  never  made  use  of  poisoned 
weapons.  He  offered  to  guide  the  Bachelor  to  this  place,  where 
they  might  get  a  supply  of  provisions,  and  even  found  their 
colony. 

The  Spaniards  hailed  the  words  of  Vasco  Nunez  as  if  reveal 
ing  a  land  of  promise.  The  Bachelor  adopted  his  advice,  and, 
guided  by  him,  set  sail  for  the  village,  determined  to  eject  the 
inhabitants  and  take  possession  of  it  as  the  seat  of  government. 
Arrived  at  the  river,  he  landed,  put  his  men  in  martial  array,  and 
marched  along  the  banks.  The  place  was  governed  by  a  brave 
cacique  named  Zemaco.  When  he  heard  of  the  approach  of  the 
Spaniards,  he  sent  off  the  women  and  children  to  a  place  of 
safety,  and  posting  himself  with  five  hundred  of  his  warriors  on 
a  height,  prepared  to  give  the  intruders  a  warm  reception.  The 
Bachelor  was  a  discoverer  at  all  points,  pious,  daring,  and 
rapacious.  On  beholding  this  martial  array  he  recommended 
himself  and  his  followers  to  God,  making  a  vow  in  their  name 
to  "  Our  Lady  of  Antigua,"  whose  image  is  adored  with  great 
devotion  in  Seville,  that  the  first  church  and  town  which  they 
built  should  be  dedicated  to  her,  and  that  they  would  make  a 
pilgrimage  to  Seville  to  offer  the  spoils  of  the  heathen  at  her 
shrine.  Having  thus  endeavoured  to  propitiate  the  favour  of 
Heaven,  and  to  retain  the  Holy  Virgin  in  his  cause,  he  next 
proceeded  to  secure  the  fidelity  of  his  followers.  Doubting 
that  they  might  have  some  lurking  dread  of  poisoned  arrows, 
he  exacted  from  them  all  an  oath  that  they  would  not  turn 
their  backs  upon  the  foe,  whatever  might  happen.  Never  did 
warrior  enter  into  battle  with  more  preliminary  forms  and 
covenants  than  the  Bachelor  Enciso.  All  these  points  being 
arranged,  he  assumed  the  soldier,  and  attacked  the  enemy  with 
such  valour,  that  though  they  made  at  first  a  show  of  fierce 
resistance,  they  were  soon  put  to  flight,  and  many  of  them 
slain.  The  Bachelor  entered  the  village  in  triumph,  took  pos 
session  of  it  by  unquestionable  right  of  conquest,  and  plundered 
all  the  hamlets  and  houses  of  the  surrounding  country ;  collect 
ing  great  quantities  of  food  and  cotton,  with  bracelets,  anklets, 
plates,  and  other  ornaments  of  gold,  to  the  value  of  ten  thou- 


90  SPANISH   VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERT. 

sand  castellanos.*  His  heart  was  wonderfully  elated  by  his 
victory  and  his  booty ;  his  followers,  also,  after  so  many  hard 
ships  and  disasters,  gave  themselves  up  to  joy  at  this  turn  of 
good  fortune,  and  it  was  unanimously  agreed  that  the  seat  of 
government  should  be  established  in  this  village ;  to  which,  in 
fulfilment  of  his  vow,  Enciso  gave  the  name  of  Santa  Maria  de 
la  Antigua  del  Darien. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  BACHELOR   ENCISO  UNDERTAKES   THE   COMMAND — HIS   DOWN 
FALL. 

THE  Bachelor  Enciso  now  entered  upon  the  exercise  of  his 
civil  functions  as  Alcalde  Mayor,  and  Lieutenant  of  the  absent 
governor,  Ojeda.  His  first  edict  was  stern  and  peremptory; 
he  forbade  all  trafficking  with  the  natives  for  gold,  on  private 
account,  under  pain  of  death.  This  was  in  conformity  to  royal 
command ;  but  it  was  little  palatable  to  men  who  had  engaged 
in  the  enterprise  in  the  hopes  of  enjoying  free  trade,  lawless 
liberty,  and  golden  gains.  They  murmured  among  themselves, 
and  insinuated  that  Enciso  intended  to  reserve  all  the  profit 
to  himself. 

Vasco  Nunez  was  the  first  to  take  advantage  of  the  general 
discontent.  He  had  risen  to  consequence  among  his  fellow- 
adventurers,  from  having  guided  them  to  this  place,  and  from 
his  own  intrinsic  qualities,  being  hardy,  bold,  and  intelligent, 
and  possessing  the  random  spirit  and  open-handed  generosity 
common  to  a  soldier  of  fortune,  and  calculated  to  dazzle  and 
delight  the  multitude. 

He  bore  no  good  will  to  the  Bachelor,  recollecting  his  threat 
of  landing  him  on  an  uninhabited  island,  when  he  escaped  in 
a  cask  from  San  Domingo.  He  sought,  therefore,  to  make  a 
party  against  him,  and  to  unseat  him  from  his  command.  He 
attacked  him  in  his  own  way,  with  legal  weapons,  questioning 
the  legitimacy  of  his  pretensions.  The  boundary  line,  he  ob 
served,  which  separated  the  jurisdictions  of  Ojeda  and  Nicuesa, 
ran  through  the  centre  of  the  gulf  of  Uraba.  The  village  of 
Darien  lay  on  the  western  side,  which  had  been  allotted  to 

*  Equivalent  to  a  present  sum  of  53,359  dollars. 


THE   VOYAGE  Of  DItiGO  DE  NICUESA.  01 

Nicuesa.  Enciso,  therefore,  as  Alcalde  Mayor  and  Lieutenant 
of  Ojeda,  could  have  no  jurisdiction  here,  and  his  assumed 
authority  was  a  sheer  usurpation. 

The  Spaniards,  already  incensed  at  the  fiscal  regulations  of 
finciso,  were  easily  convinced ;  so  with  one  accord  they  refused 
aL3giance  to  him;  and  the  unfortunate  Bachelor  found  the 
fchair  of  authority  to  which  he  had  so  fondly  and  anxiously 
aspired,  suddenly  wrested  from  under  him,  before  he  had  well 
time  to  take  his  seat. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

PERPLEXITIES  AT  THE  COLONY — ARRIVAL  OF  COLMENARES. 

To  depose  the  Bachelor  had  been  an  easy  matter,  for  most 
men  are  ready  to  assist  in  pulling  down :  but  to  choose  a  suc 
cessor  was  a  task  of  far  more  difficulty.  The  people  at  first 
agreed  to  elect  mere  civil  magistrates,  and  accordingly 
appointed  Vasco  Nunez  and  one  Zamudio  as  alcaldes,  together 
with  a  cavalier  of  some  merit  of  the  name  of  Valdivia,  as 
regidor.  They  soon,  however,  became  dissatisfied  with  this 
arrangement,  and  it  was  generally  considered  advisable  to  vest 
the  authority  in  one  person.  Who  this  person  should  be,  was 
now  the  question.  Some  proposed  Nicuesa,  as  they  were 
within  his  province ;  others  were  strenuous  for  Vasco  Nunez. 
A  violent  dispute  ensued,  which  was  carried  on  with  such  heat 
and  obstinacy,  that  many,  anxious  for  a  quiet  life,  declared  it 
would  be  better  to  reinstate  Enciso  until  the  pleasure  of  the 
king  should  be  known. 

In  the  height  of  these  factious  altercations  the  Spaniards 
were  aroused  one  day  by  the  thundering  of  cannon  from  the 
opposite  side  of  the  gulf,  and  beheld  columns  of  smoke  rising 
from  the  hills.  Astonished  at  these  signals  of  civilized  man  on 
these  wild  shores,  they  replied  in  the  same  manner,  and  in  a 
short  time  two  ships  were  seen  standing  across  the  gulf.  They 
proved  to  be  an  armament  commanded  by  one  Rodrigo  de 
Colmenares,  and  were  in  search  of  Nicuesa  with  supplies. 
They  had  met  with  the  usual  luck  of  adventurers  on  this  dis 
astrous  coast,  storms  at  sea  and  savage  foes  on  shore,  and 
many  of  their  number  had  fallen  by  poisoned  arrows.  Col 
menares  had  touched  at  San  Sebastian  to  learn  tidings  of 


92  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

Nicuesa ;  but,  finding  the  fortress  in  ruins,  had  made  signals, 
in  hopes  of  being  heard  by  the  Spaniards,  should  they  be  yet 
lingering  in  the  neighbourhood. 

The  arrival  of  Colmenares  caused  a  temporary  suspension 
of  the  feuds  of  the  colonists.  He  distributed  provisions  among 
them  and  gained  their  hearts.  Then,  representing  the  legiti 
mate  right  of  Nicuesa  to  the  command  of  all  that  part  of  the 
coast  as  a  governor  appointed  by  the  king,  he  persuaded  the 
greater  part  of  the  people  to  acknowledge  his  authority.  It 
was  generally  agreed,  therefore,  that  he  should  cruise  along 
the  coast  in  search  of  Nicuesa,  and  that  Diego  de  Albitez,  and 
an  active  member  of  the  law,  called,  the  Bachelor  Corral, 
should  accompany  him  as  ambassadors,  to  invite  that  cavalier 
to  come  and  assume  the  government  of  Darien. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

COLMENARES  GOES  IN  QUEST  OF  NIGUESA. 

RODRIGO  DE  COLMENARES  proceeded  along  the  coast  to  the 
westward,  looking  into  every  bay  and  harbour,  but  for  a  long 
time  without  success.  At  length  one  day  he  discovered  a  brig- 
antine  at  a  small  island  in  the  sea.  On  making  up  to  it,  he 
found  that  it  was  part  of  the  armament  of  Nicuesa,  and  had 
been  sent  out  by  him  to  forage  for  provisions.  By  this  vessel 
he  was  piloted  to  the  port  of  Nombre  de  Dios,  the  nominal 
capital  of  the  unfortunate  governor,  but  which  was  so  sur 
rounded  and  overshadowed  by  forests,  that  he  might  have 
passed  by  without  noticing  it. 

The  arrival  of  Colmenares  was  welcomed  with  transports 
and  tears  of  joy.  It  was  scarcely  possible  for  him  to  recognize 
the  once  buoyant  and  brilliant  Nicuesa  in  the  squalid  and  de 
jected  man  before  him.  He  was  living  in  the  most  abject 
misery.  Of  all  his  once  gallant  and  powerful  band  of  fol 
lowers,  but  sixty  men  remained,  and  those  so  feeble,  yellow, 
emaciated,  and  woe-begone,  that  it  was  piteous  to  behold 
them.* 


*  The  harbour  of  Nombre  de  Dios  continued  for  a  long  time  to  present  traces  of 
the  sufferings  of  the  Spaniards.  We  are  told  by  Herrera,  that  several  years  after 
the  time  here  mentioned,  a  band  of  eighty  Spanish  soldiers,  commanded  by  Gon- 
zalo  de  Badajos,  arrived  at  the  harbour  with  an  intention  of  penetrating  into  the 
interior.  They  found  there  the  ruined  fort  of  Nicuesa,  together  with  skulls  an<J 


THE   VOYAGE  OF  DIEGO  DE  NICUESA.  93 

Colmenares  distributed  food  among  them,  and  told  them 
that  he  had  come  to  convey  them  to  a  plenteous  country,  and 
one  rich  in  gold.  When  Nicuesa  heard  of  the  settlement  at 
Darien,  and  that  the  inhabitants  had  sent  for  him  to  come  and 
govern  them,  he  was  as  a  man  suddenly  revived  from  death. 
All  the  spirit  and  munificence  of  the  cavalier  again  awakened 
in  him.  He  gave  a  kind  of  banquet  that  very  day  to  Colme 
nares  and  the  ambassadors,  from  the  provisions  brought  in  the 
ship.  He  presided  at  his  table  with  his  former  hilarity,  and 
displayed  a  feat  of  his  ancient  office  as  royal  carver,  by  hold 
ing  up  a  fowl  in  the  air  and  dissecting  it  with  wonderful 
adroitness. 

Well  would  it  have  been  for  Nicuesa  haQ.  the  sudden  buoy 
ancy  of  his  feelings  carried  him  no  further,  but  adversity  had 
not  taught  him  prudence.  In  conversing  with  the  envoys 
about  the  colony  of  Darien,  he  already  assumed  the  tone  of 
governor,  and  began  to  disclose  the  kind  of  policy  with  which 
he  intended  to  rule.  When  he  heard  that  great  quantities  of 
gold  had  been  collected  and  retained  by  private  individuals, 
his  ire  was  kindled.  He  vowed  to  make  them  refund  it,  and 
even  talked  of  punishing  them  for  trespassing  upon  the  privi 
leges  and  monopolies  of  the  crown.  This  was  the  very  error 
that  had  unseated  the  Bachelor  Enciso  from  his  government, 
and  it  was  a  strong  measure  for  one  to  threaten  who  as  yet  was 
governor  but  in  expectation.  The  menace  was  not  lost  upon 
the  watchful  ambassadors  Diego  de  Albitez  and  the  Bachelor 
Corral.  They  were  put  still  more  on  the  alert  by  a  conversa 
tion  which  they  held  that  very  evening  with  Lope  de  Olano, 
who  was  still  detained  a  prisoner  for  his  desertion,  but  who 
found  means  to  commune  with  the  envoys,  and  to  prejudice 
them  against  his  unsuspecting  commander.  "Take  warning," 
said  he,  "by  my  treatment.  I  sent  relief  to  Nicuesa  and 
rescued  him  from  death  when  starving  on  a  desert  island. 
Behold  my  recompense.  He  repays  me  with  imprisonment 
and  chains.  Such  is  the  gratitude  the  people  of  Darien  may 
look  for  at  his  hands !" 

The  subtle  Bachelor  Corral  and  his  fellow  envoy  laid  these 
matters  to  heart,  and  took  their  measures  accordingly.  They 

bones,  and  crosses  erected  on  heaps  of  stones,  dismal  mementos  of  his  followers 
who  had  perished  of  hunger;  the  sight  of  which  struck  such  horror  cind  dismay  into 
the  hearts  of  the  soldiers  that  they  would  have  abandoned  their  enterprise,  had  not 
their  intrepid  captain  immediately  sent  away  the  ships,  and  thus  deprived  them  oi 
the  means  of  retreating.— Herrera,  d.  xi.  1.  i. 


94  SPANISH   VOYAGKS  OF  DISCOVERT. 

hurried  their  departure  before  Nicuesa,  and  setting  all  sail  on 
their  caravel,  hastened  back  to  Darien.  The  moment  they 
arrived  they  summoned  a  meeting  of  the  principal  inhabitants. 
"  A  blessed  change  we  have  made,"  said  they,  "in  summoning 
this  Diego  de  Nicuesa  to  the  command !  We  have  called  in  the 
stork  to  take  the  rule,  who  will  not  rest  satisfied  until  he  has 
devoured  us."  They  then  related,  with  the  usual  exaggeration, 
the  unguarded  threats  that  had  fallen  from  Nicuesa,  and 
instanced  his  treatment  of  Olano  as  a  proof  of  a  tyrannous  and 
ungrateful  disposition. 

The  words  of  the  subtle  Bachelor  Corral  and  his  associate 
produced  a  violent  agitation  among  the  people,  especially 
among  those  who  had  amassed  treasures  which  would  have  to 
be  refunded.  Nicuesa,  too,  by  a  transaction  which  almost  de 
stroys  sympathy  in  his  favour,  gave  time  for  their  passions  to 
ferment.  On  his  way  to  Darien  he  stopped  for  several  days 
among  a  group  of  small  islands,  for  the  purpose  of  capturing 
Indians  to  be  sold  as  slaves.  While  committing  these  outrages 
against  humanity,  he  sent  forward  Juan  de  Cayzedo  in  a  boat 
to  announce  his  coming.  His  messenger  had  a  private  pique 
against  him,  and  played  him  false.  He  assured  the  people  of 
Darien  that  all  they  had  been  told  by  their  envoys  concerning 
the  tyranny  and  ingratitude  of  Nicuesa  was  true.  That  he 
treated  his  followers  with  wanton  severity ;  that  he  took  from 
them  all  they  won  in  battle,  saying,  that  the  spoils  were  his 
rightful  property ;  and  that  it  was  his  intention  to  treat  the 
people  of  Darien  in  the  same  manner.  "What  folly  is  it  in 
you, "added  he,  "being  your  own  masters,  and  in  such  free 
condition,  to  send  for  a  tyrant  to  rule  over  you!" 

The  people  of  Darien  were  convinced  by  this  concurring  tes 
timony,  and  confounded  by  the  overwhelming  evil  they  had 
thus  invoked  upon  their  heads.  They  had  deposed  Enciso  for 
his  severity,  and  they  had  thrown  themselves  into  the  power 
of  one  who  threatened  to  be  ten  times  more  severe !  Vasco 
Nunez  de  Balboa  observed  their  perplexity  and  consternation. 
He  drew  them  one  by  one  apart,  and  conversed  with  them  in 
private.  "You  are  cast  down  in  heart,"  said  he,  "and  so  you 
might  well  be,  were  the  evil  beyond  all  cure.  But  do  not 
despair ;  there  is  an  effectual  relief,  and  you  hold  it  in  your 
hands.  Tf  you  have  committed  an  error  in  inviting  Nicuesa  to 
Darien,  it  is  easily  remedied  by  not  receiving  him  when  he 
comes !"  The  obviousness  and  simplicity  of  the  remedy  struck 
every  mind,  and  it  was  unanimously  adopted. 


THE   VOYAGE  OF  DIEGO  DE  NICUESA  95 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

CATASTROPHE  OF  THE  UNFORTUNATE  NICUESA. 

WHILE  this  hostile  plot  was  maturing  at  Darien,  tlie  unsus 
pecting  Nicuesa  pursued  his  voyage  leisurely  and  serenely,  and 
arrived  in  safety  at  the  mouth  of  the  river.  On  approaching 
the  shore  he  beheld  a  multitude,  headed  by  Vasco  Nuiiez, 
waiting,  as  he  supposed  to  receive  him  with  all  due  honour. 
He  was  about  to  land,  when  the  public  procurator,  or  attorney, 
called  to  him  with  a  loud  voice,  warning  him  not  to  disembark, 
but  advising  him  to  return  with  all  speed  to  his  government  at 
Nombre  de  Dios. 

Nicuesa  remained  for  a  moment  as  if  thunder-struck  by  so 
unlooked-for  a  salutation.  When  he  recovered  his  self-posses 
sion  he  reminded  them  that  he  had  come  at  their  own  request ; 
he  entreated,  therefore,  that  he  might  be  allowed  to  land  and 
have  an  explanation,  after  which  he  would  be  ready  to  act  as 
they  thought  proper.  His  entreaties  were  vain:  they  only 
provoked  insolent  replies,  and  threats  of  violence  should  he 
venture  to  put  foot  on  shore.  Night  coming  on,  therefore,  he 
was  obliged  to  stand  out  to  sea,  but  returned  the  next  morn 
ing,  hoping  to  find  this  capricious  people  in  a  different  mood. 

There  did,  indeed,  appear  to  be  a  favourable  change,  for  he 
was  now  invited  to  land.  It  was  a  mere  stratagem  to  get  him 
in  their  power,  for  no  sooner  did  he  set  foot  on  shore  than  the 
multitude  rushed  forward  to  seize  him.  Among  his  many 
bodily  endowments,  Nicuesa  was  noted  for  swiftness  of  foot. 
He  now  trusted  to  it  for  safety,  and,  throwing  off  the  dignity 
of  governor,  fled  for  his  life  along  the  shore,  pursued  by  the 
rabble.  He  soon  distanced  his  pursuers  and  took  refuge  in  the 
woods. 

Vasco  Nuiiez  de  Balboa,  who  was  himself  a  man  of  birth, 
seeing  this  high-bred  cavalier  reduced  to  such  extremity,  and 
at  the  mercy  of  a  violent  rabble,  repented  of  what  he  had  done. 
He  had  not  anticipated  such  popular  fury,  and  endeavoured, 
though  too  late,  to  allay  the  tempest  he  had  raised.  He  suc 
ceeded  in  preventing  the  people  from  pursuing  Nicuesa  into  the 
forest,  and  then  endeavoured  to  mollify  the  vindictive  rage  of 
his  fellow  Alcalde,  Zamudio,  whose  hostility  was  quickened  by 
the  dread  of  losing  his  office,  should  the  new  governor  be  re 
ceived  ;  and  who  was  supported  in  his  boisterous  conduct  by 


96  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

the  natural  love  of  the  multitude  for  what  are  called  "  strong 
measures."  Nicuesa  now  held  a  parley  with  the  populace, 
through  the  mediation  of  Vasco  Nunez.  He  begged  that,  if 
they  would  not  acknowledge  him  as  governor,  they  would  at 
least  admit  him  as  a  companion.  This  they  refused,  saying, 
that  if  they  admitted  him  in  one  capacity,  he  would  end  by  at 
taining  to  the  other.  He  then  implored,  that  if  he  could  be 
admitted  on  no  other  terms,  they  would  treat  him  as  a  prisoner, 
and  put  him  in  irons,  for  he  would  rather  die  among  them  than 
return  to  Nombre  de  Dios,  to  perish  of  famine,  or  by  the  arrows 
of  the  Indians. 

It  was  in  vain  that  Vasco  Nunez  exerted  his  eloquence  to 
obtain  some  grace  for  this  unhappy  cavalier.  His  voice  was 
drowned  by  the  vociferations  of  the  multitude.  Among  these 
was  a  noisy  swaggering  fellow  named  Francisco  Benitez,  a 
great  talker  and  jester,  who  took  a  vulgar  triumph  in  the  dis 
tresses  of  a  cavalier,  and  answered  every  plea  in  his  tfehalf 
with  scoffs  and  jeers.  He  was  an  adherent  of  the  Alcalde  Za- 
mudio,  and  under  his  patronage  felt  emboldened  to  bluster. 
His  voice  was  even  uppermost  in  the  general  clamour,  until,  to 
the  expostulations  of  Vasco  Nunez,  he  replied  by  merely  bawl 
ing  with  great  vociferation,  "No,  no,  no! — we  will  receive  no 
such  a  fellow  among  us  as  Nicuesa !"  The  patience  of  Vasco 
Nunez  was  exhausted ;  he  availed  himself  of  his  authority  as 
Alcade,  and  suddenly,  before  his  fellow  magistrate  could  inter 
fere,  ordered  the  brawling  ruffian  to  be  rewarded  with  a  hun 
dred  lashes,  which  were  taled  out  roundly  to  him  upon  the 
shoulders.* 

Seeing  that  the  fury  of  the  populace  was  not  to  be  pacified, 
he  sent  word  to  Nicuesa  to  retire  to  his  brigantine,  and  not  to 
venture  on  shore  until  advised  by  him  to  do  so.  The  counsel 
was  fruitless.  Nicuesa,  above  deceit  himself,  suspected  it  not 
in  others.  He  retired  to  his  brigantine,  it  is  true,  but  suffered 
himself  to  be  inveigled  on  shore  by  a  deputation  professing  to 
come  on  the  part  of  the  public,  with  offers  to  reinstate  him  as 
governor.  He  had  scarcely  landed  when  he  was  set  upon  by 
an  armed  band,  headed  by  the  base-minded  Zamudio,  who 
seized  him  and  compelled  him,  by  menaces  of  death,  to  swear 
that  he  would  immediately  depart,  and  make  no  delay  in 
any  place  until  he  had  presented  himself  before  the  king  and 
council  in  Castile. 

Las  Casas,  Hist.  Ind.  1.  ii,  c.  68. 


THE  VOYAGE  OF  DIEGO  DE  NICUESA.  97 

It  was  in  vain  that  Nicuesa  reminded  them  that  he  was  gov 
ernor  of  that  territory  and  representative  of  the  king,  and 
that  they  were  guilty  of  treason  in  thus  opposing  him ;  it  was 
in  vain  that  he  appealed  to  their  humanity,  or  protested  be 
fore  God  against  their  cruelty  and  persecution.  The  people 
were  in  that  state  of  tumult  when  they  are  apt  to  add  cruelty 
to  injustice.  Not  content  with  expelling  the  discarded  gov 
ernor  from  their  shores,  they  allotted  him  the  worst  vessel  in 
the  harbour ;  an  old  crazy  brigantine  totally  unfit  to  encoun 
ter  the  perils  and  labours  of  the  sea. 

Seventeen  followers  embarked  with  him ;  some  being  of  his 
household  and  attached  to  his  person;  the  rest  were  volun 
teers  who  accompanied  him  out  of  respect  and  sympathy. 
The  frail  bark  set  sail  on  the  first  of  March,  1511,  and  steered 
across  the  Caribbean  sea  for  the  island  of  Hispaniola,  but  was 
never  seen  or  heard  of  more ! 

Various  attempts  have  been  made  to  penetrate  the  mystery 
that  covers  the  fate  of  the  brigantine  and  its  crew.  A  rumour 
prevailed  some  years  afterwards  that  several  Spaniards,  wan 
dering  along  the  shore  of  Cuba,  found  the  following  inscription 
carved  on  a  tree : 

Aqui  fenecid  el  desdicado  Nicuesa. 
(Here  perished  the  unfortunate  Nicuesa.) 

Hence  it  was  inferred  that  he  and  his  followers  had  landed 
there,  and  been  massacred  by  the  Indians.  Las  Casas,  how 
ever,  discredits  this  story.  He  accompanied  the  first  Span 
iards  who  took  possession  of  Cuba,  and  heard  nothing  of  the 
fact,  as  he  most  probably  would  have  done  had  it  really  oc 
curred.  He  imagines,  rather,  that  the  crazy  bark  was  swal 
lowed  up  by  the  storms  and  currents  of  the  Caribbean  sea, 
or  that  the  crew  perished  with  hunger  and  thirst,  having 
been  but  scantily  supplied  with  provisions.  The  good  old  bishop 
adds,  with  the  superstitious  feeling  prevalent  in  that  age,  that 
a  short  time  before  Nicuesa  sailed  from  Spain  on  his  expedi 
tion,  an  astrologer  warned  him  not  to  depart  on  the  day  he  had 
appointed,  or  under  a  certain  sign ;  the  cavalier  replied,  how 
ever,  that  he  had  less  confidence  in  the  stars  than  in  God  who 
made  them.  "I  recollect,  moreover,"  adds  Las  Casas,  "that 
about  this  time  a  comet  was  seen  over  this  island  of  Hispaniola, 
which,  if  I  do  not  forget,  was  in  the  shape  of  a  sword ;  and  it 
was  said  that  a  monk  warned  several  of  those  about  to  embark 


98  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

with.  Nicuesa,  to  avoid  that  captain,  for  the  heavens  foretold 
he  was  destined  to  be  lost.  The  same,  however, "  he  concludes, 
"might  be  said  of  Alonzo  de  Ojeda,  who  sailed  at  the  same 
time,  yet  returned  to  San  Domingo  and  died  in  his  bed. "  * 


*  Las  Casas,  ut  sup.  c. 


VA8CO  NUffEZ  DE  BALBOA.  99 


VASCO  NUNEZ  DE  BALBOA, 

DISCOVERER  OF  THE  PACIFIC  OCEAN. 


CHAPTER  I. 

FACTIONS  AT  DARIEN— VASCO   NUNEZ   ELECTED  TO  THE  COMMAND. 

WE  have  traced  the  disastrous  fortunes  of  Alonzo  de  Ojeda 
and  Diego  de  Nicuesa ;  we  have  now  to  record  the  story  of 
Vasco  Nunez  .le  Balboa,  an  adventurer  equally  daring,  far 
more  renowned,  and  not  less  unfortunate,  who,  in  a  manner, 
rose  upon  their  ruins. 

When  the  bark  disappeared  from  view  which  bore  the  ill- 
starred  Nicuesa  from  the  shores  of  Darien,  the  community 
relapsed  into  factions,  as  to  who  should  have  the  rule.  The 
Bachelor  Enciso  insisted  upon  his  claims  as  paramount,  but  he 
met  with  a  powerful  opponent  in  Vasco  Nunez,  who  had  be 
come  a  great  favourite  with  the  people,  from  his  frank  and 
fearless  character,  and  his  winning  affability.  In  fact,  he  was 
peculiarly  calculated  to  manage  the  fiery  and  factious,  yet 
generous  and  susceptible  nature  of  his  countrymen;  for  the 
Spaniards,  though  proud  and  resentful,  and  impatient  of  indig 
nity  or  restraint,  are  easily  dazzled  by  valour,  and  won  by 
courtesy  and  kindness.  Vasco  Nunez  had  the  external  re 
quisites  also  to  captivate  the  multitude.  He  was  now  about 
thirty-five  years  of  age ;  tall,  well  formed,  and  vigorous,  with 
reddish  hair,  and  an  open  prepossessing  countenance.  His 
office  of  Alcalde,  whhe  it  clothed  him  with  influence  and  im 
portance,  tempered  those  irregular  and  dissolute  habits  he 
might  have  indulged  while  a  mere  soldier  of  fortune;  and  his 
superior  talent  soon  gave  Iiim  a  complete  ascendancy  over  his 
official  colleague  Zamudio.  He  was  thus  enabled  to  set  on  foot 
a  vigorous  opposition  to  Enciso,  Still  he  proceeded  according 
to  the  forms  of  law,  and  summoned  the  Be  chelor  to  trial,  on 


100  SPANISH   VOYAGES   OF  DISCOVERY. 

the  charge  of  usurping  the  powers  of  Alcalde  Mayor,  on  the 
mere  appointment  of  Alonzo  de  Ojeda,  whose  jurisdiction  did 
not  extend  to  this  province. 

Enciso  was  an  able  lawyer,  and  pleaded  his  cause  skilfully ; 
but  his  claims  were,  in  fact,  fallacious,  and,  had  they  not  been 
so,  he  had  to  deal  with  men  who  cared  little  for  law,  who  had 
been  irritated  by  his  legal  exactions,  and  who  were  disposed  to 
be  governed  by  a  man  of  the  sword  rather  than  of  the  robe. 
He  was  readily  found  guilty,  therefore,  and  thrown  into 
prison,  and  all  his  property  was  confiscated.  This  was  a  vio 
lent  verdict,  and  rashly  executed ;  but  justice  seemed  to  grow 
fierce  and  wild  when  transplanted  to  the  wilderness  of  the  new 
world.  Still  there  is  no  place  where  wrong  can  be  committed 
with  impunity ;  the  oppression  of  the  Bachelor  Enciso,  though 
exercised  under  the  forms  of  law,  and  in  a  region  remote  from 
the  pale  of  civilized  life,  redounded  to  the  eventual  injury  of 
Vasco  Nunez,  and  contributed  to  blast  the  fruits  of  that  ambi 
tion  it  was  intended  to  promote. 

The  fortunes  of  the  enterprising  Bachelor  had  indeed  run 
strangely  counter  to  the  prospects  with  which  he  had  embarked 
at  San  Domingo ;  he  had  become  a  culprit  at  the  bar  instead  of 
a  judge  upon  the  bench ;  and  now  was  left  to  ruminate  in  a 
prison  on  the  failure  of  his  late  attempt  at  general  command. 
His  friends,  however,  interceded  warmly  in  his  behalf,  and  at 
length  obtained  his  release  from  confinement,  and  permission 
for  him  to  return  to  Spain.  Vasco  Nunez  foresaw  that  the 
lawyer  would  be  apt  to  plead  his  cause  more  effectually  at  the 
court  of  Castile  than  he  had  done  before  the  partial  and  pre 
judiced  tribunal  of  Darien.  He  prevailed  upon  his  fellow 
Alcalde  Zamudio,  therefore,  who  was  implicated  with  him  in 
the  late  transactions,  to  return  to  Spain  in  the  same  vessel 
with  the  Bachelor,  so  as  to  be  on  the  spot  to  answer  his 
charges,  and  to  give  a  favourable  report  of  the  case.  He  was 
also  instructed  to  set  forth  the  services  of  Vasco  Nunez,  both 
in  guiding  the  colonists  to  this  place,  and  in  managing  the 
affairs  of  the  settlement ;  and  to  dwell  with  emphasis  on  the 
symptoms  of  great  riches  in  the  surrounding  country. 

The  Bachelor  and  the  Alcalde  embarked  in  a  small  caravel ; 
and,  as  it  was  to  touch  at  Hispaniola,  Vasco  Nunez  sent  his 
confidential  friend,  the  Ke^idor  Valdivia,  to  that  island  to  ob 
tain  provisions  and  recruits.  He  secretly  put  into  his  hands  a 
round  sum  of  gold  as  a  present  to  Miguel  de  Pasamonte,  the 
royal  treasurer  of  Hispaniola,  whom  he  kne^y  to  have  great 


VASCO  J\7UfftiZ  DK  BALBOA.  101 

credit  with  the  king,  and  to  be  invested  with  extensive  powers, 
craving  at  the  same  time  his  protection  in  the  new  world  and 
his  influence  at  court. 

Having  taken  these  shrewd  precautions,  Vasco  Nunez  saw 
the  caravel  depart  without  dismay,  though  bearing  to  Spain 
his  most  dangerous  enemy;  he  consoled  himself,  moreover, 
with  the  reflection  that  it  likewise  bore  off  his  fellow  Alcalde, 
Zamudio,  and  thus  left  him  in  sole  command  of  the  colony. 


CHAPTER  II. 

EXPEDITION  TO  COYBA-  VASCO  NUNEZ    RECEIVES   THE  DAUGHTER 
OF  A  CACIQUE  AS  HOSTAGE. 

VASCO  NUNEZ  now  exerted  himself  to  prove  his  capacity  for 
the  government  to  which  he  had  aspired ;  and  as  he  knew  that 
no  proof  was  more  convincing  to  King  Ferdinand  than  ample 
remittances,  and  that  gold  covered  all  sins  in  the  new  world, 
his  first  object  was  to  discover  those  parts  of  the  country  which 
most  aboumded  in  the  precious  metals.  Hearing  exaggerated 
reports  of  the  riches  of  a  province  about  thirty  leagues  distant, 
called  Coyba,  he  sent  Francisco  Pizarro  with  six  men  to  ex 
plore  it. 

The  cacique  Zemaco,  the  native  lord  of  Darien,  who  cher 
ished  a  bitter  hostility  against  the  European  intruders,  and 
hovered  with  his  warriors  about  the  settlement,  received  no 
tice  of  this  detachment,  from  hie  spies,  and  planted  himself  in 
ambush  to  waylay  and  destroy  it.  The  Spaniards  had  scarcely 
proceeded  three  leagues  along  the  course  of  the  river  when  a 
host  of  savages  burst  upon  them  from  the  surrounding  thick 
ets,  uttering  frightful  yells,  and  discharging  showers  of  stones 
and  arrows.  Pizarro  and  his  men,  though  sorely  bruised  and 
wounded,  rushed  into  the  thickest  of  the  foe,  slew  many, 
wounded  more,  and  put  the  rest  to  flight ;  but,  fearing  another 
assault,  they  made  a  precipitate  retreat,  leaving  one  of  their 
companions,  Francisco  Hernan,  disabled  on  the  field.  They 
arrived  at  the  settlement  crippled  and  bleeding;  but  when 
Vasco  Nunez  heard  the  particulars  of  the  action,  his  anger 
was  roused  against  Pizarro,  and  he  ordered  him,  though 
wounded,  to  return  immediately  and  recover  the  disabled 


102  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

man,  "Let  it  not  be  said,  for  shame,"  said  he,  "that  Span 
iards  fled  before  savages,  and  left  a  comrade  in  their  hands !" 
Pizarro  felt  the  rebuke,  returned  to  the  scene  of  combat  and 
brought  off  Francisco  Hernan  in  safety. 

Nothing  having  been  heard  of  Nicuesa  since  his  departure, 
Vasco  Nuilez  despatched  two  brigantines  for  those  followers  of 
that  unfortunate  adventurer  who  had  remained  at  Nombre  de 
Dios.  They  were  overjoyed  at  being  rescued  from  their  for 
lorn  situation,  and  conveyed  to  a  settlement  where  there  was 
some  prospect  of  comfortable  subsistence.  The  brigantines,  in 
coasting  the  shores  of  the  Isthmus,  picked  up  two  Spaniards, 
clad  in  painted  skins  and  looking  as  wild  as  the  native  In 
dians.  These  men,  to  escape  some  punishment,  had  fled  from 
the  ship  of  Nicuesa  about  a  year  and  a  half  before,  and  had 
taken  refuge  with  Careta,  the  cacique  of  Coyba.  The  savage 
chieftain  had  treated  them  with  hospitable  kindness;  their 
first  return  for  which,  now  that  they  found  themselves  safe 
among  their  countrymen,  was  to  advise  the  latter  to  invade 
the  cacique  in  his  dwelling,  where  they  assured  them  they 
would  find  immense  booty.  Finding  their  suggestion  listened 
to,  one  of  them  proceeded  to  Darien,  to  serve  as  a  guide  to  any 
expedition  that  might  be  set  on  foot ;  the  other  returned  to  the 
cacique,  to  assist  in  betraying  him. 

Vasco  Nunez  was  elated  by  the  intelligence  received  through 
these  vagabonds  of  the  wilderness.  He  chose  a  hundred  and 
thirty  well  armed  and  resolute  men,  and  set  off  for  Coyba,  the 
dominions  of  Careta.  The  cacique  received  the  Spaniards  in  his 
mansion  with  the  accustomed  hospitality  of  a  savage,  setting 
before  them  meat  and  drink,  and  whatever  his  house  afforded ; 
but  when  Vasco  Nufiez  asked  for  a  large  supply  of  provisions 
for  the  colony,  he  declared  that  he  had  none  to  spare,  his 
people  having  been  prevented  from  cultivating  the  soil  by  a 
war  which  he  was  waging  with  the  neighbouring  cacique  of 
Ponca.  The  Spanish  traitor,  who  had  remained  to  betray  his 
benefactor,  now  took  Vasco  Nufiez  aside,  and  assured  him  that 
the  cacique  had  an  abundant  hoard  of  provisions  in  secret ;  he 
advised  him,  however,  to  seem  to  believe  his  words,  and  to 
make  a  pretended  departure  for  Darien  with  his  troops,  but  to 
return  in  the  night  and  take  the  village  by  surprise.  Vasco 
Nunez  adopted  the  advice  of  the  traitor.  He  took  a  cordial  leave 
of  Careta,  and  set  off  for  the  settlement.  In  the  dead  of  the 
night,  however,  when  the  savages  were  buried  in  deep  sleep, 
Vasco  Nunez  led  his  men  into  the  midst  of  the  village,  and, 


VA8CO  XUffEZ  DE  BALBOA.  103 

before  the  inhabitants  could  rouse  themselves  to  resistance, 
made  captives  of  Careta,  his  wives,  and  children,  and  many  of 
his  people.  He  discovered  also  the  hoard  of  provisions,  with 
which  he  loaded  two  brigantines,  and  returned  with  his  booty 
and  his  captives  to  Darien. 

When  the  unfortunate  cacique  beheld  his  family  in  chains, 
and  in  the  hands  of  strangers,  his  heart  was  wrung  with 
despair ;  ' '  What  have  I  done  to  thee, "  said  he  to  Vasco  Nunez, 
"that  thou  shouldst  treat  me  thus  cruelly?  None  of  thy 
people  ever  came  to  my  land  that  were  not  fed  and  sheltered 
and  treated  with  loving-kindness.  When  thou  earnest  to  my 
dwelling,  did  I  meet  thee  with  a  javelin  in  my  hand?  Did  I 
not  set  meat  and  drink  before  thee  and  welcome  thee  as  a 
brother?  Set  me  free,  therefore,  with  my  family  and  people, 
and  we  will  remain  thy  friends.  We  will  supply  thee  with 
provisions,  and  reveal  to  thee  the  riches  of  the  land.  Dost  thou 
doubt  my  faith?  Behold  my  daughter,  I  give  her  to  thee  as  a 
pledge  of  friendship.  Take  her  for  thy  wife,  and  be  assured  of 
the  fidelity  of  her  family  and  her  people !" 

Vasco  Nunez  felt  the  force  of  these  words  and  knew  the  im 
portance  of  forming  a  strong  alliance  among  the  natives.  The 
captive  maid,  also,  as  she  stood  trembling  and  dejected  before 
him,  found  great  favour  in  his  eyes,  for  she  was  young  and 
beautiful.  He  granted,  therefore,  the  prayer  of  the  cacique, 
and  accepted  his  daughter,  engaging,  moreover,  to  aid  the 
father  against  his  enemies,  on  condition  of  his  furnishing  pro 
visions  to  the  colony. 

Careta  remained  three  days  at  Darien,  during  which  time  he 
was  treated  with  the  utmost  kindness.  Vasco  Nunez  took  him 
on  board  of  his  ships  and  showed  him  every  part  of  them.  He 
displayed  before  him  also  the  war-horses,  with  their  armour 
and  rich  caparisons,  and  astonished  him  with  the  thunder  of 
artillery.  Lest  he  should  be  too  much  daunted  by  these  war 
like  spectacles,  he  caused  the  musicians  to  perform  a  harmoni 
ous  concert  on  their  instruments,  at  which  the  cacique  was  lost 
in  admiration.  Thus  having  impressed  him  with  a  wonderful 
idea  of  the  power  and  endowments  of  his  new  allies,  he  loaded 
him  with  presents  and  permitted  him  to  depart.* 

Careta  returned  joyfully  to  his  territories,  and  his  daughter 
remained  with  Vasco  Nunez,  willingly,  for  his  sake,  giving  up 
her  family  and  native  home.  They  were  never  married,  but 

*  P.  Martyr,  D.  3,  c.  vi. 


104  SPANISH    VOYAGES   OF  DISCOVERY. 

she  considered  herself  his  wife,  as  she  really  was,  according  to 
the  usages  of  her  own  country,  and  he  treated  her  with  fond 
ness,  allowing  her  gradually  to  acquire  great  influence  over 
him.  To  his  affection  for  this  damsel  his  ultimate  ruin  is  in 
some  measure  to  be  ascribed. 


CHAPTER  III. 

VASCO  NUNEZ  HEARS  OF  A  SEA  BEYOND  THE  MOUNTAINS. 

VASCO  NUNEZ  kept  his  word  with  the  father  of  his  Indian 
beauty.  Taking  with  him  eighty  men  and  his  companion-in 
arms,  Rodrigo  Enriquez  de  Colmenares,  he  repaired  by  sea  to 
Coyba,  the  province  of  the  cacique.  Here  landing,  he  invaded 
the  territories  of  Ponca,  the  great  adversary  of  Careta,  and 
obliged  him  to  take  refuge  in  the  mountains.  He  then  ravaged 
his  lands  and  sacked  his  villages,  in  which  he  found  consider 
able  booty.  Returning  to  Coyba,  where  he  was  joyfully  enter 
tained  by  Careta,  he  next  made  a  friendly  visit  to  the  adjacent 
province  of  Comagre,  which  was  under  the  sway  of  a  cacique 
of  the  same  name,  who  had  3,000  fighting  men  at  his  command. 

This  province  was  situated  at  the  foot  of  a  lofty  mountain  in 
a  beautiful  plain  twelve  leagues  in  extent.  On  the  approach  of 
Vasco  Nunez,  the  cacique  came  forth  to  meet  him  attended  by 
seven  sons,  all  fine  young  men,  the  offspring  of  his  various 
wives.  He  was  followed  by  his  principal  chiefs  and  warriors, 
and  by  a  multitude  of  his  people.  The  Spaniards  were  con 
ducted  with  great  ceremony  to  the  village,  where  quarters  were 
assigned  them,  and  they  were  furnished  with  abundance  of 
provisions,  and  men  and  women  were  appointed  to  attend  upon 
them. 

The  dwelling  of  the  cacique  surpassed  any  they  had  yet  seen 
for  magnitude  and  for  the  skill  and  solidity  of  the  architecture. 
It  was  one  hundred  and  fifty  paces  in  length,  and  eighty  in 
breadth,  founded  upon  great  logs  surrounded  with  a  stone 
wall ;  while  the  upper  part  was  of  wood- work,  curiously  inter 
woven  and  wrought  with  such  beauty,  as  to  fill  the  Spaniards 
with  surprise  and  admiration.  It  contained  many  commodious 
apartments.  There  were  store-rooms  also;  one  filled  with 
bread,  with  venison,  and  other  provisions;  another  with 
various  spirituous  beverages  which  the  Indians  made  from 


VASCO  NUftEZ  DE  BALBOA.  105 

maize,  from  a  species  of  the  palm,  and  from  roots  of  different 
kinds.  There  was  also  a  great  hall  in  a  retired  and  secret  part 
of  the  building,  wherein  Comagre  preserved  the  bodies  of  his 
ancestors  and  relatives.  These  had  been  dried  by  the  fire,  so  as 
to  free  them  from  corruption,  and  afterwards  wrapped  in  man 
ties  of  cotton  richly  wrought  and  interwoven  with  pearls  and 
jewels  of  gold,  and  with  certain  stones  held  precious  by  the 
natives.  They  were  then  hung  about  the  hall  with  cords  of 
cotton,  and  regarded  with  great  reverence,  if  not  a  species  of 
religious  devotion. 

Among  the  sons  of  the  cacique,  the  eldest  was  of  a  lofty  and 
rous  spirit,  and  distinguished  above  the  rest  by  his  supe- 
intelligence  and  sagacity.  Perceiving,  says  old  Peter 
Martyr,  that  the  Spaniards  were  a  ' '  wandering  kind  of  menr 
living  only  by  shifts  and  spoil, "  he  sought  to  gain  favour  for 
himself  and  family  by  gratifying  their  avarice.  He  gave 
Vasco  Nuiiez  and  Colmenares,  therefore,  4,000  ounces  of  gold, 
wrought  into  various  ornaments,  together  with  sixty  slaves, 
being  captives  that  he  had  taken  in  the  ware.  Vasco  Nuiiez 
ordered  one-fifth  of  the  gold  to  be  weighed  out  and  set  apart 
for  the  crown,  and  the  rest  to  be  shared  among  his  fol 
lowers. 

The  division  of  the  gold  took  place  in  the  porch  of  the  dwell 
ing  of  Comagre,  in  the  presence  of  the  youthful  cacique  who 
had  made  the  gift.  As  the  Spaniards  were  weighing  it  out,  a 
violent  quarrel  arose  among  them  as  to  the  size  and  value  of 
the  pieces  which  fell  to  their  respective  shares.  The  high- 
minded  savage  was  disgusted  at  this  sordid  brawl  among 
beings  whom  he  had  regarded  with  such  reverence.  In  the 
first  impulse  of  his  disdain,  he  struck  the  scales  with  his  fist 
and  scattered  the  glittering  gold  about  the  porch.  Before  the 
Spaniards  could  recover  from  their  astonishment  at  this  sud 
den  act,  he  thus  addressed  them,  ' '  Why  should  you  quarrel 
for  such  a  trifle?  If  this  gold  is  indeed  so  precious  in  your 
eyes  that  for  it  alone  you  abandon  your  homes,  invade  the 
peaceful  land  of  others,  and  expose  yourselves  to  such  suffer 
ings  and  perils,  I  will  tell  you  of  a  region  where  you  may 
gratify  your  wishes  to  the  utmost.  Behold  those  lofty  moun 
tains,"  continued  he,  pointing  to  the  south.  "Beyond  these 
lies  a  mighty  sea,  which  may  be  discerned  from  their  summit. 
It  is  navigated  by  people  who  have  vessels  almost  as  large  as 
yours,  and  furnished,  like  them,  with  sails  and  oars.  All  the 
streams  which  flow  down  the  southern  side  of  those  mountains 


106  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY 

into  that  sea  abound  in  gold,  and  the  kings  who  reign  upon  its 
borders  eat  and  drink  out  of  golden  vessels.  Gold,  in  fact,  is 
as  plentiful  and  common  among  those  people  of  the  south  as 
iron  is  among  you  Spaniards." 

Struck  with  this  intelligence,  Vasco  Nunez  inquired  eagerly 
as  to  the  means  of  penetrating  to  this  sea  and  to  the  opulent 
regions  on  its  shores.  "The  task,"  replied  the  prince,  "is 
difficult  and  dangerous.  You  must  pass  through  the  territo 
ries  of  many  powerful  caciques,  who  will  oppose  you  with  hosts 
of  warriors.  Some  parts  of  the  mountains  are  infested  by 
fierce  and  cruel  cannibals— a  wandering,  lawless  race;  but, 
above  all,  you  will  have  to  encounter  the  great  cacique,  T 
nama,  whose  territories  are  at  the  distance  of  six  days'  j 
ney,  and  more  rich  in  gold  than  any  other  province;  this 
cacique  will  be  sure  to  come  forth  against  you  with  a  mighty 
force.  To  accomplish  your  enterprise,  therefore,  will  require 
at  least  a  thousand  men  armed  like  those  who  follow  you." 

The  youthful  cacique  gave  him  further  information  on  the 
subject,  collected  from  various  captives  whom  he  had  taken  in 
battle,  and  from  one  of  his  own  nation,  who  had  been  for  a 
long  time  in  captivity  to  Tubanama,  the  powerful  cacique  of 
the  golden  realm.  The  prince,  moreover,  offered  to  prove  the 
sincerity  of  his  words  by  accompanying  Vasco  Nunez  in  any 
expedition  to  those  parts  at  the  head  of  his  father's  warriors. 

Such  was  the  first  intimation  received  by  Vasco  Nunez  of  the 
Pacific  Ocean  and  its  golden  realms,  and  it  had  an  immediate 
effect  upon  his  whole  character  and  conduct.  This  hitherto 
wandering  and  desperate  man  had  now  an  enterprise  opened 
to  his  ambition,  which,  if  accomplished,  would  elevate  him  to 
fame  and  fortune,  and  entitle  him  to  rank  among  the  great 
captains  and  discoverers  of  the  earth.  Henceforth  the  discov 
ery  of  the  sea  beyond  the  mountains  was  the  great  object  of 
his  thoughts,  and  his  whole  spirit  seemed  roused  and  ennobled 
by  the  idea. 

He  hastened  his  return  to  Darien,  to  make  the  necessary 
preparations  for  this  splendid  enterprise.  Before  departing 
from  the  province  of  Comagre  he  baptized  that  cacique  by  the 
name  of  Don  Carlos,  and  performed  the  same  ceremony  upon 
his  sons  and  several  of  his  subjects ; — thus  singularly  did  ava 
rice  and  religion  go  hand  in  hand  in  the  conduct  of  the  Spanish- 
discoverers. 

Scarcely  had  Vasco  Nunez  returned  to  Darien  when  the 
Regidor  Valdivia  arrived  there  from  Hispaniola,  but  with  no 


VASCO  NUtfEZ  DE  BALBOA.  107 

more  provisions  than  could  be  brought  in  his  small  caravel. 
These  were  soon  consumed,  and  the  general  scarcity  continued. 
It  was  heightened  also  by  a  violent  tempest  of  thunder,  light 
ning,  and  rain,  which  brought  such  torrents  from  the  moun 
tains  that  the  river  swelled  and  overflowed  its  banks,  laying 
waste  all  the  adjacent  fields  that  had  been  cultivated.  In  this 
extremity  Vasco  Nunez  despatched  Yaldivia  a  second  time  to 
Hispaniola  for  provisions.  Animated  also  by  the  loftier  views 
of  his  present  ambition,  he  wrote  to  Don  Diego  Columbus,  who 
governed  at  San  Domingo,  informing  him  of  the  intelligence 
he  had  received  of  a  great  sea  and  opulent  realms  beyond  the 
mountains,  and  entreating  him  to  use  his  influence  with  the 
king  that  one  thousand  men  might  be  immediately  furnished 
him  for  the  prosecution  of  so  grand  a  discovery.  He  sent  him 
also  the  amount  of  fifteen  thousand  crowns  in  gold,  to  be  re 
mitted  to  the  king  as  the  royal  fifths  of  what  had  already  been 
collected  under  his  jurisdiction.  Many  of  his  followers,  also, 
forwarded  sums  of  gold  to  be  remitted  to  their  creditors  in 
Spain.  In  the  mean  time,  Vasco  Nunez  prayed  the  admiral  to 
yield  him  prompt  succour  to  enable  him  to  keep  his  footing  in 
the  land,  representing  the  difficulty  he  had  in  maintaining, 
with  a  mere  handful  of  men,  so  vast  a  country  in  a  state  of 
subjection. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

EXPEDITION  OF  VASCO  NUNEZ  IN  QUEST  OF  THE  GOLDEN  TEMPLE 
OF  DOBAYBA. — (1512.) 

WHILE  Vasco  Nunez  awaited  the  result  of  this  mission  of 
Valdivia,  his  active  disposition  prompted  him  to  undertake 
foraging  excursions  into  the  surrounding  country.— 

Among  various  rumours  of  golden  realms  in  the  interior  of 
this  unknown  land,  was  one  concerning  a  province  called  Do- 
bayba,  situated  about  forty  leagues  distant,  on  the  banks  of  a 
great  river  which  emptied  itself,  by  several  mouths,  into  a 
corner  of  the  Gulf  of  Uraba. 

This  province  derived  its  name,  according  to  Indian  tradi 
tion.,  from  a  mighty  female  of  the  olden  time,  the  mother  of 
the  god  who  created  the  sun  and  moon  and  all  good  things. 
She  had  power  over  the  elements,  sending  thunder  and  light- 


108  SPANISH   VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERT. 

ning  to  lay  waste  the  lands  of  those  who  displeased  her,  but 
showering  down  fertility  and  abundance  upon  the  lands  of  her 
faithful  worshippers.  Others  described  her  as  having  been  an 
Indian  princess  who  once  reigned  amongst  the  mountains  of 
Dobayba,  and  was  renowned  throughout  the  land  for  her 
supernatural  power  and  wisdom.  After  her  death,  divine 
honours  were  paid  her,  and  a  great  temple  was  erected  for  her 
worship.  Hither  the  natives  repaired  from  far  and  near,  on  a 
kind  of  pilgrimage,  bearing  offerings  of  their  most  valuable 
effects.  The  caciques  who  ruled  over  distant  territories,  also 
sent  golden  tributes,  at  certain  times  of  the  year,  to  be  de 
posited  in  this  temple,  and  slaves  to  be  sacrificed  at  its  shrine. 
At  one  time,  it  was  added,  this  worship  fell  into  disuse,  the 
pilgrimages  were  discontinued,  and  the  caciques  neglected  to 
send  their  tributes ;  whereupon  the  deity,  as  a  punishment,  in 
flicted  a  drought  upon  the  country.  The  springs  and  fountains 
failed,  the  rivers  were  dried  up ;  the  inhabitants  of  the  moun 
tains  were  obliged  to  descend  into  the  plains,  where  they  digged 
pits  and  wells,  but  these  likewise  failing,  a  great  part  of  the 
nations  perished  with  thirst.  The  remainder  hastened  to  pro 
pitiate  the  deity  by  tributes  and  sacrifices,  and  thus  succeeded 
in  averting  her  displeasure.  In  consequence  of  offerings  of 
the  kind,  made  for  generations  from  all  parts  of  the  country, 
the  temple  was  said  to  be  filled  with  treasure,  and  its  walls  to 
be  covered  with  golden  gifts.*  In  addition  to  the  tale  of  this 
temple,  the  Indians  gave  marvellous  accounts  of  the  general 
wealth  of  this  province,  declaring  that  it  abounded  with  mines 
of  gold,  the  veins  of  which  reached  from  the  dwelling  of  the 
cacique  to  the  borders  of  his  dominions. 

To  penetrate  to  this  territory,  and  above  ah1  to  secure  the 
treasures  of  the  golden  temple,  was  an  enterprise  suited  to  the 
adventurous  spirit  of  the  Spaniards.  Vasco  Nunez  chose  one 
hundred  and  seventy  of  his  hardiest  men  for  the  purpose. 
Embarking  them  in  two  brigantines  and  a  number  of  canoes, 
he  set  sail  from  Darien,  and,  after  standing  about  nine  leagues 
to  the  east,  came  to  the  mouth  of  the  Eio  Grande  de  San  Juan, 
or  the  Great  River  of  St.  John,  also  called  the  Atrato,  which  is 
since  ascertained  to  be  one  of  the  branches  of  the  river  Darien. 
Here  he  detached  Rodrigo  Enriquez  de  Colmenares  with  one^ 
third  of  his  forces  to  explore  the  stream,  while  he  himself  pro 
ceeded  with  the  residue  to  another  branch  of  the  river,  which 

*  P.  Martyr,  decad.  3,  c.  vi.    Idem.  d.  7,  c.  x. 


VASCO  NU&KZ  DE  BALBOA.  109 

he  was  told  flowed  from  the  province  of  Dobayba,  and  which 
he  ascended,  flushed  with  sanguine  expectations.* 

His  old  enemy,  Zemaco,  the  cacique  of  Darien,  however,  had 
discovered  the  object  of  his  expedition,  and  had  taken  measures 
to  disappoint  it :  repairing  to  the  province  of  Dobayba,  he  had 
prevailed  upon  its  cacique  to  retire  at  the  approach  of  the 
Spaniards,  leaving  his  country  deserted. 

Vasco  Nunez  found  a  village  situated  in  a  marshy  neighbour 
hood,  on  the  banks  of  the  river,  and  mistook  it  for  the  residence 
of  the  cacique :  it  was  silent  and  abandoned.  There  was  not  an 
Indian  to  be  met  with  from  whom  he  could  obtain  a,ny  infor 
mation  about  the  country,  or  who  could  guide  him  to  the  golden 
temple.  He  was  disappointed,  also,  in  his  hopes  of  obtaining  a 
supply  of  provisions,  but  he  found  weapons  of  various  kinds 
hanging  in  the  deserted  houses,  and  gathered  jewels  and  pieces 
of  gold  to  the  value  of  seven  thousand  castellanos.  Discour 
aged  by  the  savage  look  of  the  surrounding  wilderness,  wh^h 
was  perplexed  by  deep  morasses,  and  having  no  guides  to  aid 
him  in  exploring  it,  he  put  all  the  booty  he  had  collected  into 
two  large  canoes,  and  made  his  way  back  to  the  Gulf  of  U^aba. 
Here  he  was  assailed  by  a  violent  tempest,  which  nearly 
wrecked  his  two  brigantines,  and  obliged  him  to  throw  a  great 
part  of  their  cargoes  overboard.  The  two  canoes  Containing 
the  booty  were  swallowed  up  by  the  raging  sea,  and  all  their 
crews  perished. 

Thus  baffled  and  tempest-tost,  Vasco  Nunez  at  length  suc 
ceeded  in  getting  into  what  was  termed  c'.e  Grand  River, 
which  he  ascended,  and  rejoined  Colmenares  and  his  detach 
ment.  They  now  extended  their  excursions  up  a  stream  which 
emptied  into  the  Grand  River,  and  which,  u-orn  the  dark  hue 
of  its  waters,  they  called  Rio  Negro,  or  the  Black  River.  They 
also  explored  certain  other  tributary  streams  branching  trom 
h,  though  not  without  occasional  skirmishes  with  the  natives. 


*  In  recording  this  expedition,  the  author  has  followed  the  old  Spanish  narratives, 
written  when  the  face  of  the  country  was  but  little  known,  and  he  was  much  per 
plexed  to  reconcile  the  accounts  given  of  numerous  streams  with  the  rivers  laid 
down  on  modern  maps.  By  a  clear  and  judicious  explanation,  given  in  the  recent 
work  of  Don  Manuel  Josef  Quintana,  it  appears  that  the  different  streams  explored 
by  Vasco  Nufiez  and  Colmenares  were  all  branches  of  one  grand  river,  which,  de 
scending  from  the  mountains  of  the  interior,  winds  about  in  crystal  streams  among 
the  plains  and  morasses  bordering  the  bottom  of  the  ?r?at  teulf  of  Darien,  and  dis 
charges  itself  by  various  mouths  into  the  gulf.  In  fact,  the  stream  which  ran  by 
the  infant  city  of  Santa  Maria  de  la  Antigua  was  but  one  of  its  branches,  a  fact  en 
tirely  unknown  to  Vasco  Nufiez  and  his  conipar..ons. 


110  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERT. 

Ascending  one  of  these  minor  rivers  with  a  part  of  his  men, 
Vasco  Nunez  came  to  the  territories  of  a  cacique  named  Abi- 
beyba,  who  reigned  over  a  region  of  marshes  and  shallow  lakes. 
The  habitations  of  the  natives  were  built  amidst  the  branches 
of  immense  and  lofty  trees.  They  were  large  enough  to  con 
tain  whole  family  connexions,  and  were  constructed  partly  of 
wood,  partly  of  a  kind  of  wicker  work,  combining  strength  and 
pliability,  and  yielding  uninjured  to  the  motion  of  the  branches 
when  agitated  by  the  wind.  The  inhabitants  ascended  to 
them  with  great  agility  by  light  ladders,  formed  of  great  reeds 
split  through  the  middle,  for  the  reeds  on  this  coast  grow  to 
the  thickness  of  a  man's  body.  These  ladders  they  drew  up 
after  them  at  night,  or  in  case  of  attack.  These  habitations 
were  well  stocked  with  provisions ;  but  the  fermented  bever 
ages,  of  which  these  people  had  always  a  supply,  were  buried 
in  vessels  in  the  earth  at  the  foot  of  the  tree,  lest  they  should 
be  rendered  turbid  by  the  rocking  of  the  houses.  Close  by, 
also,  were  the  canoes  with  which  they  navigated  the  rivers  and 
ponds  of  their  marshy  country  and  followed  their  main  occu 
pation  of  fishing. 

On  the  approach  of  the  Spaniards,  the  Indians  took  refuge  in 
their  tree-built  castles  and  drew  up  the  ladders.  The  former 
called  upon  them  to  descend  and  to  fear  nothing.  Upon  this 
the  cacique  replied,  entreating  that  he  might  not  be  molested, 
seeing  he  had  done  them  no  injury.  They  threatened,  unless 
he  came  down,  to  fell  the  trees  or  to  set  fire  to  them,  and  burn 
him  and  his  wives  and  children.  The  cacique  was  disposed  to 
consent,  but  was  prevented  by  the  entreaties  of  his  people. 
Upon  this  the  Spaniards  prepared  to  hew  down  the  trees,  but 
were  assailed  by  showers  of  stones.  They  covered  themselves, 
however,  with  their  bucklers,  assailed  the  trees  vigorously 
with  their  hatchets,  and  soon  compelled  the  inhabitants  to  ca 
pitulate.  The  cacique  descended  with  his  wife  and  two  of  his 
children.  The  first  demand  of  the  Spaniards  was  for  gold. 
He  assured  them  he  had  none ;  for,  having  no  need  of  it,  he  had 
never  made  it  an  object  of  his  search.  Being  importuned, 
however,  he  assured  them  that  if  he  were  permitted  to  repair 
to  certain  mountains  at  a  distance,  he  would  in  a  few  days  re 
turn  and  bring  them  what  they  desired.  They  permitted  him 
to  depart,  retaining  his  wife  and  children  as  hostages,  but  they 
saw  no  more  of  the  cacique.  After  remaining  here  a  few  days 
and  regaling  on  the  provisions  which  they  found  in  abundance, 
they  continued  their  foraging  expeditions,  often  opposed  by 


VA8CO  NUNEZ  DE  BALBOA.  H] 

the  bold  and  warlike  natives,  and  suffering  occasional  loss,  but 
inflicting  great  havoc  on  their  opposers. 

Having  thus  overrun  a  considerable  extent  of  country,  and 
no  grand  object  presenting  to  lure  him  on  to  further  enterprise, 
Vasco  Nuiiez  at  length  returned  to  Darien  with  the  spoils  and 
captives  he  had  taken,  leaving  Bartolome  Hurtado  with  thirty 
men  in  an  Indian  village  on  the  Rio  Negro,  or  Black  River,  tc 
hold  the  country  in  subjection.  Thus  terminated  the  first  expe 
dition  in  quest  of  the  golden  temple  Dobayba,  which  for  some 
time  continued  to  be  a  favourite  object  of  enterprise  among  the 
adventurers  of  Darien. 


CHAPTER  V. 

DISASTER  ON  THE  BLACK  RIVER— INDIAN    PLOT  AGAINST  DARIEN. 

BARTOLOME  HURTADO  being  left  to  his  own  discretion  on  the 
banks  of  the  Black  River,  occupied  himself  occasionally  in 
hunting  the  scattered  natives  wno  straggled  about  the  sur 
rounding  forests.  Saving  in  this  way  picked  up  twenty-four 
captives,  he  put  them  on  board  of  a  large  canoe,  like  so  much 
live  stock,  to  be  transported  to  Darien  and  sold  as  slaves. 
Twenty  of  his  followers  who  were  infirm,  either  from  wounds 
or  the  diseases  of  the  climate,  embarked  also  in  the  canoe,  so 
that  only  ten  men  remained  with  Hurtado. 

The  great  c0n^>?.  thus  heavily  freighted,  descended  the 
Black  River  slowly,  between  banks  overhung  with  forests. 
Zemaco,  the  indefatigable  cacique  of  Darien,  was  on  the  watch, 
and  waylaid  the  ark  with  four  canoes  filled  with  warriors 
armed  with  war  clubs,  and  lances  hardened  in  the  fire.  The 
Spaniards  being  sick,  could  make  but  feeble  resistance ;  some 
were  massacred,  others  leaped  into  the  river  and  were 
drowned.  Two  only  escaped,  by  clinging  to  two  trunks  of 
trees  that  were  floating  down  the  river  and  covering  them 
selves  with  the  branches.  Reaching  the  shore  in  safety,  they 
returned  to  Bartolome  Hurtado  with  the  tragical  tidings  of  the 
death  of  his  followers.  Hurtado  was  so  disheartened  by  the 
news,  and  so  dismayed  at  his  own  helpless  situation,  in  the 
midst  of  a  hostile  country,  that  he  resolved  to  abandon  the 
fatal  pliovcrj  of  the  Black  River  and  return  to  Darien.  He  was 
quickened  in  this  resolution  by  receiving  intimation  of  a  con- 


112  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

spiracy  forming  among  the  natives.  The  implacable  Zemaco 
had  drawn  four  other  caciques  into  a  secret  plan  to  assemble 
their  vassals  and  make  a  sudden  attack  upon  Darien.  Hurtado 
hastened  with  the  remnant  of  his  followers  to  carry  tidings  to 
the  settlement  of  this  conspiracy.  Many  of  the  inhabitants 
were  alarmed  at  his  intelligence ;  others  treated  it  as  a  false 
rumour  of  the  Indians,  and  no  preparations  were  made  against 
what  might  be  a  mere  imaginary  danger. 

Fortunately  for  the  Spaniards,  among  the  female  captives 
owned  by  Vasco  Nunez  was  an  Indian  damsel  named  Fulvia, 
to  whom,  in  consequence  of  her  beauty,  he  had  shown  great 
favour,  and  who  had  become  strongly  attached  to  him.  She 
had  a  brother  among  the  warriors  of  Zemaco,  who  often  visited 
her  in  secret.  In  one  of  his  visits  he  informed  her  that  on  a 
certain  night  the  settlement  would  be  attacked  and  every 
Spaniard  destroyed.  He  charged  her,  therefore,  to  hide  her 
self  that  night  in  a  certain  place  until  he  should  come  to  her 
aid,  lest  she  should  be  slain  in  the  confusion  of  the  massacre. 

When  her  brother  was  gone  a  violent  struggle  took  place  in 
the  bosom  of  the  Indian  girl,  between  her  feeling  for  her 
family  and  her  people  and  her  affection  for  Vasco  Nunez.  The 
latter  at  length  prevailed,  and  she  revealed  all  that  had  been 
told  to  her.  Vasco  Nunez  prevailed  upon  her  to  send  for  her 
brother  under  pretence  of  aiding  her  to  escape.  Having  him 
in  his  power,  he  extorted  from  him  all  that  he  knew  of  tne  de 
signs  of  the  enemy.  His  confessions  showed  what  imminent 
danger  had  been  lurking  round  Vasco  Nunez  in  his  most  un 
suspecting  moments.  The  prisoner  informed  him  that  he  had 
been  one  of  forty  Indians  sent  some  time  before  by  che  cacique 
Zemaco  to  Vasco  Nunez,  in  seeming  friendship,  GO  be  employed 
by  him  in  cultivating  the  fields  adjacent  to  the  settlement. 
They  had  secret  orders,  however,  to  take  an  opportunity  when 
Vasco  Nuilez  should  come  forth  to  inspect  their  work,  to  set 
upon  him  in  an  unguarded  moment  and  destroy  him.  for 
tunately,  Vasco  Nunez  always  visited  the  fields  mounted  >n 
his  war  horse  and  armed  with  lance  and  target.  The  Indians 
were  therefore  so  awed  by  his  martial  appearance,  and  by  the 
terrible  animal  he  bestrode,  that  they  dared  not  attack  him. 

Foiled  in  this  and  other  attempts  of  the  kind,  Zemaco  re 
sorted  to  the  conspiracy  with  the  neighbouring  caciques  with 
which  the  settlement  was  menaced. 

Five  caciques  had  joined  in  the  confederacy;  they  had 
prepared  a  hundred  canoes,  had  amassed  provisions  for  an 


VASCO  NUftEZ  DE  BALBOA.  113 

army,  and  had  concerted  to  assemble  five  thousand  picked 
warriors  at  a  certain  time  and  place ;  with  these  they  Were  to 
make  an  attack  on  the  settlement  by  land  and  water  in  the 
middle  of  the  night  and  to  slaughter  every  Spaniard. 

Having  learnt  where  the  confederate  chiefs  were  to  be  found, 
and  where  they  had  deposited  their  provisions,  Vasco  Nunez 
chose  seventy  of  his  best  men,  well-armed,  and  made  a  circuit 
by  land,  while  Colmenares,  with  sixty  men,  sallied  forth 
secretly  in  four  canoes  guided  by  the  Indian  prisoner.  In  this 
way  they  surprised  the  general  of  the  Indian  army  and  several 
of  the  principal  confederates,  and  got  possession  of  all  their 
provisions,  though  they  failed  to  capture  the  formidable  ZQ- 
maco.  The  Indian  general  was  shot  to  death  with  arrows,  and 
the  leaders  of  the  conspiracy  were  hanged  in  presence  of  their 
captive  followers.  The  defeat  of  this  deep-laid  plan  and  the 
punishment  of  its  devisers,  spread  terror  throughout  the  neigh 
bouring  provinces  and  prevented  any  further  attempt  at  hos- 
tili:  .  Vasco  Nunez,  however,  caused  a  strong  fortress  of 
wood  to  be  immediately  erected  to  guard  against  any  future 
assaults  of  the  savages. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

FURTHER     FACTIONS     IN     T.         COLONY—  ARROGANCE    OF    ALONZtf 
.  AND  THE  BACHELOR  CORRAL.—  (1512.) 


A  coNSiDEitAfci^  time  had  now  elapsed  since  the  departure  ot 
Valdivia  for  Hispaniok.,  yet  no  tidings  had  been  received  from 
him.  Many  began  to  fear  that  some  disaster  had  befallen  him; 
while  others  insinuated  that  it  was  possible  both  he  and  Za- 
mudio  might  have  neglected  the  objects  of  their  mission,  and, 
having  appropriated  to  their  own  use  the  gold  with  which  they 
had  been  entrusted,  might  have  abandoned  the  colony  to  its 
fate. 

Vasco  Nunez  himself  was  harassed  by  these  surmises,  and 
by  the  dread  lest  the  Bachelor  Enciso  should  succeed  in  preju 
dicing  the  mind  of  his  sovereign  against  him.  Impatient  of 
this  state  of  anxious  suspense,  he  determined  to  repair  to 
Spain  to  communicate  in  person  all  that  he  had  heard  concern 
ing  the  Southern  Sea,  and  to  ask  for  the  troops  necessary  for 
its  discovery. 


114  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

Every  one,  however,  both  friend  and  foe,  exclaimed  against 
such  a  measure,  representing  his  presence  as  indispensable  to 
the  safety  of  the  colony,  from  his  great  talents  as  a  commander 
and  the  fear  entertained  of  him  by  the  Indians. 

After  much  debate  and  contention,  it  was  at  length  agreed 
that  Juan  de  Cayzedo  and  Rodrigo  Enriquez  de  Colmenares 
should  go  in  his  place,  instructed  to  make  all  necessary  repre 
sentations  to  the  king.  Letters  were  written  also  containing 
the  most  extravagant  accounts  of  the  riches  of  the  country, 
partly  dictated  by  the  sanguine  hopes  of  the  writers,  and 
partly  by  the  fables  of  the  natives.  The  rumoured  wealth  of 
the  province  of~Dobayba  and  the  treasures  of  its  golden  temple 
were  not  forgotten ;  and  an  Indian  was  taken  to  Spain  by  the 
commissioners,  a  native  of  the  province  of  Zenu,  where  gold 
was  said  to  be  gathered  in  nets  stretched  across  the  mountain 
streams.  To  give  more  weight  to  all  these  stories,  every  one 
contributed  some  portion  of  gold  from  his  private  hoard  to  be 
presented  to -the  king  in  addition  to  the  amount  arising  from 
his  fifths. 

But  little  time  elapsed  after  the  departure  of  the  commis 
sioners  when  new  dissensions  broke  out  in  the  colony.  It  was 
hardly  to  be  expected  that  a  fortuitous  assemblage  of  adven 
turers  could  remain  long  tranquil  during  a  time  of  suffering 
under  rulers  of  questionable  authority.  Vasco  Nunez,  it  is 
true,  had  risen  by  his  courage  and  abilities ;  but  he  had  risen 
from  among  their  ranks;  he  was,  in  a  manner,  of  their  own 
creation ;  and  they  had  not  become  sufficiently  accustomed  to 
him  as  a  governor  to  forget  that  he  was  recently  but  a  mere 
soldier  of  fortune  and  an  absconding  debtor. 

Their  factious  discontent,  however,  was  directed  at  first 
against  a  favourite  of  Vasco  Nunez,  rather  than  against  him 
self.  He  had  invested  Bartolome  Hurtado,  the  commander  of 
the  Black  River,  with  considerable  authority  in  the  colony, 
and  the  latter  gave  great  offence  by  his  oppressive  conduct. 
Hurtado  had  particularly  aggrieved  by  his  arrogance  one 
Alonzo  Perez  de  la  Rua,  a  touchy  cavalier,  jealous  of  his 
honour,  who  seems  to  have  peculiarly  possessed  the  sensitive 
punctilio  of  a  Spaniard.  Firing  at  some  indignity,  whether 
real  or  fancied,  Alonzo  Perez  threw  himself  into  the  ranks  of 
the  disaffected,  and  was  immediately  chosen  as  their  leader. 
Thus  backed  by  a  faction,  he  clamoured  loudly  for  the  punish 
ment  of  Hurtado;  and,  finding  his  demands  unattended  to, 
threw  out  threats  of  deposing  Vasco  Nunez.  The  latter  no 


VASCO   NUNEZ  DE  BALBOA.  115 

sooner  heard  of  these  menaces,  than,  with  his  usual  spirit  and 
promptness,  he  seized  upon  the  testy  Alonzo  Perez  and  threw 
him  in  prison  to  digest  his  indignities  and  cool  his  passions  at 
leisure. 

The  conspirators  flew  to  arms  to  liberate  their  leader.  The 
friends  of  Vasco  Nunez  were  equally  on  the  alert.  The  two 
parties  drew  out  in  battle  array  in  the  public  square,  and  a 
sanguinary  conflict  was  on  the  point  of  taking  place.  Fortu 
nately  there  were  some  cool  heads  left  in  the  colony.  These 
interfered  at  the  critical  moment,  representing  to  the  angry 
adversaries  that  if  they  fought  among  themselves,  and  dimin 
ished  their  already  scanty  numbers,  even  the  conquerors  must 
eventually  fall  a  prey  to  the  Indians. 

Their  remonstrances  had  effect.  A  parley  ensued,  and,  after 
much  noisy  debate,  a  kind  of  compromise  was  made.  Alonzo 
Perez  was  liberated,  and  the  mutineers  dispersed  quietly  to 
their  homes.  The  next  day,  however,  they  were  again  in 
arms,  and  seized  upon  Bartolome  Hurtado;  but  after  a  little 
while  were  prevailed  upon  to  set  him  free.  Their  factious 
views  seemed  turned  to  a  higher  object.  They  broke  forth 
into  loud  murmurs  against  Vasco  Nunez,  complaining  that  he 
had  not  made  a  fair  division  of  the  gold  and  slaves  taken  in 
the  late  expeditions,  and  threatening  to  arrest  him  and  bring 
him  to  account.  Above  all,  they  clamoured  for  an  immediate 
distribution  of  ten  thousand  castellanos  in  gold,  which  yet  re 
mained  unshared. 

Vasco  Nunez  understood  too  well  the  riotous  nature  of  the 
people  under  him,  and  his  own  precarious  hold  on  their  obe 
dience,  to  attempt  to  cope  with  them  in  this  moment  of  turbu 
lence.  He  shrewdly  determined,  therefore,  to  withdraw  from 
the  sight  of  the  multitude,  and  to  leave  them  to  divide  the 
spoil  among  themselves,  trusting  to  their  own  strife  for  his 
security.  That  very  night  he  sallied  forth  into  the  country, 
under  pretence  of  going  on  a  hunting  expedition. 

The  next  morning  the  mutineers  found  themselves  in  pos 
session  of  the  field.  Alonzo  Perez,  the  pragmatical  ringleader, 
immediately  assumed  the  command,  seconded  by  the  Bachelor 
Corral.  Their  first  measure  was  to  seize  upon  the  ten  thou 
sand  castellanos,  and  to  divide  them  among  the  multitude,  by 
way  of  securing  their  own  popularity.  The  event  proved  the 
sagacity  and  forethought  of  Vasco  Nunez.  Scarcely  had  these 
hot-headed  intermeddlers  entered  upon  the  partition  of  the 
gold,  than  a  furious  strife  arose.  Every  one  was  dissatisfied 


116  SPANISH    VOYAGES  Off  DISCOVERT. 

with  his  share,  considering  his  merits  entitled  to  peculiar  rec 
ompense.  Every  attempt  to  appease  the  rabble  only  aug 
mented  their  violence,  and  in  their  rage  they  sworo  that  Vasco 
Nunez  had  always  shown  more  judgment  and  discrimination 
in  his  distributions  to  men  of  merit. 

The  adherents  of  the  latter  now  ventured  to  lift  up  their 
voices;  "Vasco  Nunez,"  said  they,  "won  the  gold  by  his  en 
terprise  and  valour,  and  would  have  shared  it  with  the  brave 
and  the  deserving ;  but  these  men  have  seized  upon  it  by  fac 
tious  means,  and  would  squander  it  upon  their  minions. "  The 
multitude,  who,  in  fact,  admired  the  soldier-like  qualities  of 
Vasco  Nunez,  displayed  one  of  the  customary  reverses  of  pop 
ular  feeling.  The  touchy  Alonzo  Perez,  his  coadjutor  the 
Bachelor  Corral,  and  several  other  of  the  ringleaders  were 
seized,  thrown  in  irons,  and  confined  in  the  fortress;  and 
Vasco  Nunez  was  recalled  with  loud  acclamations  to  the  settle 
ment. 

How  long  this  pseudo  commander  might  have  been  able  to 
manage  the  unsteady  populace  it  is  impossible  to  say,  but  just 
at  this  juncture  two  ships  arrived  from  Hispaniola,  freighted 
with  supplies,  and  bringing  a  reinforcement  of  one  hundred 
and  fifty  men.  They  brought  also  a  commission  to  Vasco 
Nunez,  signed  by  Miguel  de  Pasamonte,  the  royal  treasurer  of 
Hispaniola,  to  whom  he  had  sent  a  private  present  of  gold, 
constituting  him  captain-general  of  the  colony.  It  is  doubtful 
whether  Pasamonte  possessed  the  power  to  confer  such  a  com 
mission,  though  it  is  affirmed  that  the  king  had  clothed  him 
with  it,  as  a  kind  of  check  upon  the  authority  of  the  admiral 
Don  Diego  Columbus,  then  Governor  of  Hispaniola,  of  whose 
extensive  sway  in  the  new  world  the  monarch  was  secretly 
jealous.  At  any  rate  the  treasurer  appears  to  have  acted  in 
full  confidence  of  the  ultimate  approbation  of  his  sovereign. 

Vasco  Nunez  was  rejoiced  at  receiving  a  commission  which 
clothed  him  with  at  least  the  semblance  of  royal  sanction. 
Feeling  more  assured  in  his  situation,  and  being  naturally  of  a 
generous  and  forgiving  temper,  he  was  easily  prevailed  upon, 
in  his  moment  of  exultation,  to  release  and  pardor)  Alonzo 
Perez,  the  Bachelor  Corral,  and  the  other  ringleaders  of  the 
late  commotions,  and  for  a  time  the  feuds  and  factions  of  this 
petty  community  were  lulled  to  repose. 


VASCO  NUffEZ  DE  BALBOA.  H7 


CHAPTER  VII. 

7ASCO     NUNEZ     DETERMINES     TO     SEEK     THE     SEA     BEYOND     THE 
MOUNT  AINS.  —  (1 5 13. ) 

THE  temporary  triumph  of  Vasco  Nunez  was  soon  overcast 
by  tidings  received  from  Spain.  His  late  colleague,  the  Alcalde 
Zamudio,  wrote  him  word  that  the  Bachelor  Enciso  had  car 
ried  Ms  complaints  to  the  foot  of  the  throne,  and  suraj^ied  in 
rousing  the  indignation  of  the  king,  and  had  obtained  a  sen 
tence  in  his  favour,  condemning  Vasco  Nuiiez  in  costs  and 
damages.  Zamudio  informed  him  in  addition,  that  he  would 
be  immediately  summoned  to  repair  to  Spain,  and  answer  in 
person  the  criminal  charges  advanced  against  him  on  account 
of  the  harsh  treatment  and  probable  death  of  the  unfortunate 
Nicuesa. 

Vasco  Nuiiez  was  at  first  stunned  by  this  intelligence,  which 
seemed  at  one  blow  to  annihilate  all  his  hopes  and  fortunes. 
He  was  a  man,  however,  of  prompt  decision  and  intrepid 
spirit.  The  information  received  from  Spain  was  private  and 
informal,  no  order  had  yet  arrived  from  the  king,  he  was  still 
master  of  his  actions,  and  had  control  over  the  colony.  One 
brilliant  achievement  might  atone  for  all  the  past,  and  fix  him 
in  the  favour  of  the  monarch.  Such  an  achievement  was 
within  his  reach— the  discovery  of  the  southern  sea.  It  is  true, 
a  thousand  soldiers  had  been  required  for  the  expedition,  but 
were  he  to  wait  for  their  arrival  from  Spain,  his  day  of  grace 
would  be  past.  It  was  a  desperate  thing  to  undertake  the  task 
with  the  handful  of  men  at  his  command,  but  the  circum 
stances  of  the  case  were  desperate.  Fame,  fortune,  life  itself, 
depended  upon  the  successful  and  the  prompt  execution  of  the 
enterprise.  To  linger  was  to  be  lost. 

Vasco  Nuiiez  looked  round  upon  the  crew  of  daring  and 
reckless  adventurers  that  formed  the  colony,  and  chose  one 
hundred  and  ninety  of  the  most  resolute  and  vigorous,  and  of 
those  most  devoted  to  his  person.  These  he  armed  with  swords, 
targets,  cross-bows,  and  arquebusses.  He  did  not  conceal 
from  them  the  peril  of  the  enterprise  into  which  he  was  about 
to  lead  them ;  but  the  spirit  of  these  Spanish  adventurers  was 
always  roused  by  the  idea  of  perilous  and  extravagant  exploit. 
To  aid  his  slender  forces,  he  took  with  him  a  number  of  blood- 


US  SPANISH   VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

hounds,  which  had  been  found  to  be  terrific  allies  in  Indian 
warfare. 

The  Spanish  writers  make  particular  mention  of  one  of  those 
animals,  named  Leoncico,  which  was  a  constant  companion, 
and,  as  it  were,  body-guard  of  Vasco  Nunez,  and  describe  him 
as  minutely  as  they  would  a  favourite  warrior.  He  was  of  a 
middle  size.. but  immensely  strong:  of  a  dull  yellow  or  reddish 
colour,  with  a  black  muzzle,  and  his  body  was  scarred  all  over 
with  wounds  received  in  innumerable  battles  with  the  Indians. 
Vasco  Nufiez  always  took  him  on  his  expeditions,  and  some 
times  3jSb*him  to  others,  receiving  for  his  services  the  same 
share  orbooty  allotted  to  an  armed  man.  In  this  way  he 
gained  by  him,  in  the  course  of  his  campaigns,  upwards  of  a 
thousand  crowns.  The  Indians,  it  is  said,  had  conceived  such 
terror  of  this  animal,  that  the  very  sight  of  him  was  sufficient 
to  put  a  host  of  them  to  flight.* 

In  addition  to  these  forces,  Vasco  Nunez  took  with  him  a 
number  of  the  Indians  of  Darien,  whom  he  had  won  to  him  by 
kindness,  and  whose  services  were  important,  from  their 
knowledge  of  the  wilderness,  and  of  the  habits  and  resources 
of  savage  life.  Such  was  the  motley  armament  that  set  forth 
from  the  little  colony  of  Darien,  under  the  guidance  of  a  dar 
ing,  if  not  desperate  commander,  in  quest  of  the  great  Pacific 
Ocean. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

EXPEDITION  IN  QUEST  OF   THE   SOUTHERN   SEA. 

IT  was  on  the  first  of  September  that  Vasco  Nufiez  embarked 
with  his  followers  in  a  brigantine  and  nine  large  canoes  or 
pirogues,  followed  by  the  cheers  and  good  wishes  of  those  who 
remained  at  the  settlement.  Standing  to  the  north-westward, 
he  arrived  without  accident  at  Coyba,  the  dominions  of  the 
cacique  Careta,  whose  daughter  he  had  received  as  a  pledge  of 
amity.  That  Indian  beauty  had  acquired  a  great  influence 
over  Vasco  Nuiiez,  and  appears  to  have  cemented  his  friend 
ship  with  her  father  and  her  people.  He  was  received  by  the 
cacique  with  open  arms,  and  furnished  with  guides  and  war 
riors  to  aid  him  in  his  enterprise. 

*  Oviedo,  Hist.  Indies,  p.  2,  c.  3,  MS. 


VASCO  XUNUZ  DE  BALBOA.  119 

Vasco  Nunez  left  about  half  of  his  men  at  Coyba  to  guard 
the  brigantine  and  canoes,  while  he  should  penetrate  the  wil 
derness  with  the  residue.  The  importance  of  this  present  ex 
pedition,  not  merely  as  affecting  his  own  fortunes,  but  as  it 
were  unfolding  a  mighty  secret  of  nature,  seems  to  have  im 
pressed  itself  upon  his  spirit,  and  to  have  given  corresponding 
solemnity  to  his  conduct.  Before  setting  out  upon  his  march, 
he  caused  mass  to  be  performed,  and  offered  up  prayers  to  God 
for  the  success  of  his  perilous  undertaking. 

It  was  on  the  sixth  of  September  that  he  struck  off  for  the 
mountains.  The  march  was  difficult  and  toilsome  .in-  the  ex 
treme.  The  Spaniards,  encumbered  with  the  weight  of  their 
armour  and  weapons,  and  oppressed  by  the  heat  of  a  tropical 
climate,  were  obliged  to  climb  rocky  precipices,  and  to  struggle 
through  close  and  tangled  forests.  Their  Indian  allies  aided 
them  by  carrying  their  ammunition  and  provisions,  and  by 
guiding  them  to  the  most  practicable  paths. 

On  the  eighth  of  September  they  arrived  at  the  village  of 
Ponca,  the  ancient  enemy  of  Careta.  The  village  was  lifeless 
and  abandoned;  the  cacique  and  his  people  had  fled  to  the 
fastnesses  of  the  mountains.  The  Spaniards  remained  here 
several  days  to  recruit  the  health  of  some  of  their  number  who 
had  fallen  ill.  It  was  necessary  also  to  procure  guides  ac 
quainted  with  the  mountain  wilderness  they  were  approaching. 
The  retreat  of  Ponca  was  at  length  discovered,  and  he  was  pre 
vailed  upon,  though  reluctantly,  to  come  to  Vasco  Nunez.  *The 
latter  had  a  peculiar  facility  in  winning  the  confidence  and 
friendship  of  the  natives.  The  cacique  was  soon  so  captivated 
by  his  kindness,  that  he  revealed  to  him  in  secret  all  he  knew 
of  the  natural  riches  of  the  country.  He  assured  him  of  the 
truth  of  what  had  been  told  him  about  a  great  pechry  or  sea 
beyond  the  mountains,  and  gave  him  several  ornaments  inge 
niously  wrought  of  fine  gold,  which  had  been  brought  from 
the  countries  upon  its  borders.  He  told  him,  moreover,  that 
when  he  had  attained  the  summit  of  a  lofty  ridge,  to  which  he 
pointed,  and  which  seemed  to  rise  up  to  the  skies,  he  would 
behold  that  sea  spread  out  far  below  him. 

Animated  by  the  accounts,  Vasco  Nunez  procured  fresh 
guides  from  the  cacique,  and  prepared  to  ascend  the  moun 
tains.  Numbers  of  his  men  having  fallen  ill  from  fatigue  and 
the  heat  of  the  climate,  he  ordered  them  to  return  slowly  to 
Coyba,  taking  with  him  none  but  such  as  were  in  robust  and 
vigorous  health. 


120  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERT. 

On  the  20th  of  September,  he  again  set  forward  through  a 
broken  rocky  country,  covered  with  a  matted  forest,  and  inter 
sected  by  deep  and  turbulent  streams,  many  of  which  it  was 
necessary  to  cross  upon  rafts. 

So  toilsome  was  the  journey,  that  in  four  days  they  did  not 
advance  above  ten  leagues,  and  in  the  mean  time  they  suffered 
excessively  from  hunger.  At  the  end  of  this  time  they  arrived 
at  the  province  of  a  warlike  cacique,  named  Quaraqua,  who 
was  at  war  with  Ponca. 

Hearing  that  a  band  of  strangers  were  entering  his  terri 
tories,  guided  by  the  subjects  of  his  inveterate  foe,  the  cacique 
took  the  field  with  a  large  number  of  warriors,  some  armed 
with  bows  and  arrows,  others  with  long'  spears,  or  with  double- 
handed  maces  oi  palm- wood,  almost  as  heavy  and  hard  as  iron. 
Seeing  the  inconsiderable  somber  of  fhe  Spaniards,  they  set 
upon  them  with  furiotrs  yells,  thinking  to  overcome  them  in 
an  instant.  The  first  discharge  of  fire-arms,  however,  struck 
them  with  dismay.  They  thought  they  were  contending  with 
demons  who  vomited  forth  thunder  and  lightning,  especially 
when  they  saw  their  companions  fall  bleeding  and  dead  beside 
them,  without  receiving  any  apparent  blow.  They  took  to 
headlong  flight,  ancT were  hotly  pursued  by  the  Spaniards  and 
their  bloodhounds.  Some  were  transfixed  with  lances,  others 
hewn  down  with  swords,  and  many  were  torn  to  pieces  by  the 
dogs,  so  that  Quaraqua  and  six  hundred  of  his  warriors  were 
left  dead  upon  the  field. 

A  brother  of  the  cacique  and  several  chiefs  were  taken  pris 
oners.  They  were  clad  in  robes  of  white  cotton.  Either  from 
their  effeminate  dress,  or  from  the  accusations  of  their  ene 
mies,  the  Spaniards  were  induced  to  consider  them  guilty  of 
unnatural  crimes,  and,  in  their  abhorrence  and  disgust,  gave 
them  to  be  torn  to  pieces  by  the  bloodhounds.* 

It  is  also  affirmed,  that  among  the  prisoners  were  several  ne 
groes,  who  had  been  slaves  to  the»cacique.  The  Spaniards,  we 
are  told,  were  informed  by  the  other  captives,  that  these  black 
men  came  from  a  region  at  no  great  distance,  where  there  was 
a  people  of  that  colour  with  whom  they  were  frequently  at 
war.  "These, "adds  the  Spanish  writer,  "were  the  first  ne 
groes  ever  found  in  the  New  World,  and  I  believe  no  others 
have  since  been  discovered.''! 


*  Herrera,  Hist.  Ind.  d.  1,  1.  x.  c.  1. 

t  Peter  Martyr,  in  his  third  Decade,  makes  mention  of  these  negro**  in  the  fol- 


VASCO  NUNEZ  DE  BALBOA. 

After  this  sanguinary  triumph,  the  Spaniards  marched  to 
the  village  of  Quaraqua,  where  they  found  considerable  booty 
in  gold  and  jewels.  Of  this  Vasco  Nunez  reserved  one-fifth  for 
the  crown,  and  shared  the  rest  liberally  among  his  followers. 
The  village  was  at  the  foot  of  the  last  mountain  that  remained 
for  them  to  climb ;  several  of  the  Spaniards,  however,  were  so 
disabled  by  the  wounds  they  had  received  in  battle,  or  so  ex 
hausted  by  the  fatigue  and  hunger  they  had  endured,  that  they 
were  unable  to  proceed.  They  were  obliged,  therefore,  reluc 
tantly  to  remain  in  the  village,  within  sight  of  the  mountain- 
top  that  commanded  the  long-sought  prospect.  Vasco  Nunez 
selected  fresh  guides  from  among  his  prisoners,  who  were  na 
tives  of  the  province,  and  sent  back  the  subjects  of  Ponca.  Of 
the  band  of  Spaniards  who  had  set  out  with  him  in  this  enter 
prise,  sixty-seven  alone  remained  in  sufficient  health  and 
spirits  for  this  last  effort.  These  he  ordered  to  retire  early  to 
repose,  that  they  might  be  ready  to  set  off  at  the  cool  and  fresh 
hour  of  day-break,  so  as  to  reach  the  summit  of  the  mountain 
before  the  noon-tide  heat. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

DISCOVERY  OF  THE   PACIFIC  OCEAN. 

THE  day  had  scarcely  dawned,  when  Vasco  Nuilez  and  his 
followers  set  forth  from  the  Indian  village  and  began  to  climb 
the  height.  It  was  a  severe  and  rugged  toil  for  men  so  way 
worn,  but  they  were  filled  with  new  ardour  at  the  idea  of  the 
triumphant  scene  that  was  so  soon  to  repay  them  for  all  their 
hardships. 

About  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning  they  emerged  from  the 
thick  forests  through  which  they  had  hitherto  struggled,  and 
arrived  at  a  lofty  and  airy  region  of  the  mountain.  The  bald 

lowing  words:— "About  two  days1  journey  distant  from  Quaraqua  is  a  regio'n  in 
habited  only  by  black  Moors,  exceeding  fierce  and  cruel.  It  is  supposed  that  in 
time  past  certain  black  Moors  sailed  thither  out  of  Ethiopia,  to  rob,  and  that  by 
shipwreck,  or  some  other  chance,  they  were  driven  to  these  mountains."  As  Mar 
tyr  lived  and  wrote  at  the  time,  he  of  course  related  the  mere  rumour  of  the  day, 
which  all  subsequent  accounts  have  disproved.  The  other  historians  who  men 
tioned  the  circumstance,  have  probably  repeated  it  from  him.  It  must  have  risen 
from  some  misrepresentation,  and  is  not  entitled  to  credit. 


122  SPANISH    VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

summit  alone  remained  to  be  ascended,  and  their  guides 
pointed  to  a  moderate  eminence  from  which  they  said  the 
southern  sea  was  visible. 

Upon  this  Vasco  Nunez  commanded  his  followers  to  halt, 
and  that  no  man  should  stir  from  his  place.  Then,  with  a 
palpitating  heart,  he  ascended  alone  the  bare  mountain-top. 
On  reaching  the  summit  the  long-desired  prospect  burst  upon 
his  view.  It  was  as  if  a  new  world  were  unfolded  to  him, 
separated  from  all  hitherto  known  by  this  mighty  barrier  of 
mountains.  Below  him  extended  a  vast  chaos  of  rock  and 
forest,  and  green  savannahs  and  wandering  streams,  while  at 
a  distance  the  waters  of  the  promised  ocean  glittered  in  the 
morning  sun. 

At  this  glorious  prospect  Vasco  Nunez  sank  upon  his  knees, 
and  poured  out  thanks  to  God  for  being  the  first  European  to 
whom  it  was  given  to  make  that  great  discovery.  He  then 
called  his  people  to  ascend:  "Behold,  my  friends,"  said  he, 
' '  that  glorious  sight  which  we  have  so  much  desired.  Let  us 
give  thanks  to  God  that  he  has  granted  us  this  great  honour 
and  advantage.  Let  us  pray  to  him  that  he  will  guide  and  aid 
us  to  conquer  the  sea  and  land  which  we  have  discovered,  and 
in  which  Christian  has  never  entered  to  preach  the  holy  doc 
trine  of  the  Evangelists.  As  to  yourselves,  be  as  you  have 
hitherto  been,  faithful  and  true  to  me,  and  by  the  favour  of 
Christ  you  will  become  the  richest  Spaniards  that  have  ever 
come  to  the  Indies ;  you  will  render  the  greatest  services  to 
your  king  that  ever  vassal  rendered  to  his  lord ;  and  you  will 
have  the  eternal  glory  and  advantage  of  all  that  is  here  dis 
covered,  conquered,  and  converted  to  our  holy  Catholic  faith. " 

The  Spaniards  answered  this  speech  by  embracing  Vasco 
Nunez  and  promising  to  follow  him  to  death.  Among  them 
was  a  priest,  named  Andres  de  Vara,  who  lifted  up  his  voice 
and  chanted  Te  Deuin  laudamus — the  usual  anthem  of  Spanish 
discoverers.  The  people,  kneeling  down,  joined  in  the  strain 
with  pious  enthusiasm  and  tears  of  joy ;  and  never  did  a  more 
sincere  oblation  rise  to  the  Deity  from  a  sanctified  altar  than 
from  that  wild  mountain  summit.  It  was  indeed  one  of  the 
most  sublime  discoveries  that  had  yet  been  made  in  the  New 
World,  and  must  have  opened  a  boundless  field  of  conjecture 
to  the  wondering  Spaniards.  The  imagination  delights  to  pic 
ture  forth  the  splendid  confusion  of  their  thoughts.  Was  this 
the  great  Indian  Ocean,  studded  with  precious  islands,  abound 
ing  in  gold,  in  gems,  and  spices,  and  bordered  by  the  gorgeous 


VASCO  NUNEZ  DE  BALBOA.  123 

cities  and  wealthy  marts  of  the  East?  Or  was  it  some  lonely 
sea  locked  up  in  the  embraces  of  savage  uncultivated  conti 
nents,  and  never  traversed  by  a  bark,  excepting  the  light 
pirogue  of  the  Indian?  The  latter  could  hardly  be  the  case, 
for  the  natives  had  told  the  Spaniards  of  golden  realms,  and 
populous  and  powerful  and  luxurious  nations  upon  its  shores. 
Perhaps  it  might  be  bordered  by  various  people,  civilized  in 
fact,  but  differing  from  Europe  in  their  civilization ;  who  might 
have  peculiar  laws  and  customs  and  arts  and  sciences;  who 
might  form,  as  it  were,  a  world  of  their  own,  intercommuning 
by  this  mighty  sea,  and  carrying  on  commerce  between  their 
own  islands  and  continents ;  but  who  might  exist  in  total  igno 
rance  and  independence  of  the  other  hemisphere. 

Such  may  naturally  have  been  the  ideas  suggested  by  the 
sight  of  this  unknown  ocean.  It  was  the  prevalent  belief  of 
the  Spaniards,  however,  that  they  were  the  first  Christians 
who  had  made  the  discovery.  Vasco  Nunez,  therefore,  called 
upon  all  present  to  witness  that  he  took  possession  of  that  sea, 
its  islands,  and  surrounding  lands,  in  the  name  of  the  sov 
ereigns  of  Castile,  and  the  notary  of  the  expedition  made  a 
testimonial  of  the  same,  to  which  all  present,  to  the  number  of 
sixty-seven  men,  signed  their  names.  He  then  caused  a  fair 
and  tall  tree  to  be  cut  down  and  wrought  into  a  cross,  which 
was  elevated  on  the  spot  from  whence  he  had  at  first  beheld 
the  sea.  A  mound  of  stones  was  likewise  piled  up  to  serve  as 
a  monument,  and  the  names  of  the  Castilian  sovereigns  were 
caryed  on  the  neighbouring  trees.  The  Indians  beheld  all  these 
ceremonials  and  rejoicings  in  silent  wonder,  and,  while  they 
aided  to  erect  the  cross  and  pile  up  the  mound  of  stones, 
marvelled  exceedingly  at  the  meaning  of  these  monuments' 
little  thinking  that  they  marked  the  subjugation  of  their  land. 

The  memorable  even-fc  here  recorded  took  place  on  the  26th 
of  September,  1513;  so  that  the  Spaniards  had  been  twenty 
days  performing  the  journey  from  the  province  of  Careta  to 
the  summit  of  the  mountain,  a  distance  which  at  present,  it  is 
said,  does  not  require  more  than  six  days'  travel.  Indeed  the 
isthmus  in  this  neighbourhood  is  not  more  than  eighteen 
leagues  in  breadth  in  its  widest  part,  and  in  some  places 
merely  seven ;  but  it  consists  of  a  ridge  of  extremely  high  and 
rugged  mountains.  When  the  discoverers  traversed  it,  they 
had  no  route  but  the  Indian  paths,  and  often  had  to  force  their 
way  amidst  all  kinds  of  obstacles,  both  from  the  savage 
country  and  its  savage  inhabitants,  ID  fact  the  details  of 


124  SPANISH    VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

this  narrative  sufficiently  account  for  the  slowness  of  then 
progress,  and  present  an  array  of  difficulties  and  perils  which, 
as  has  been  well  observed,  none  but  those  "  men  of  iron"  could 
have  subdued  and  overcome.* 


CHAPTER  X. 

VASCO  NUNEZ  MARCHES  TO  THE  SHORES  OF  THE  SOUTH  SEA. 

HAVING  taken  possession  of  the  Pacific  Ocean  and  all  its 
realms  from  the  summit  of  the  mountain,  Vasco  Nunez  now 
descended  with  his  little  band  to  seek  the  regions  of  reputed 
wealth  upon  its  shores.  He  had  not  proceeded  far  when  he 
came  to  the  province  of  a  warlike  cacique,  named  Chiapes, 
who,  issuing  forth  at  the  head  of  his  warriors,  looked  writh 
scorn  upon  the  scanty  number  of  ctraggling  Spaniards,  and 
forbade  them  to  set  foot  within  his  territories.  Vasco  Nunez 
depended  for  safety  upon  his  power  of  striking  terror  into  the 
ignorant  savages.  Ordering  his  arquebusiers  to  the  front,  he 
poured  a  volley  into  the  enemy,  and  then  let  loose  the  blood 
hounds.  The  flash  and  noise  of  the  fire-arms,  and  the  sul 
phurous  smoke  which  was  carried  by  the  wind  among  the 
Indians,  overwhelmed  them  with  dismay.  Some  fell  down  in 
a  panic  as  though  they  had  been  struck  by  thunderbolts,  the 
rest  betook  themselves  to  headlong  flight. 

Vasco  Nuilez  commanded  his  men  to  refrain  from  needless 
slaughter.  He  made  many  prisoners,  and  on  arriving  at  the 
village,  sent  some  of  them  in  search  of  their  Cacique,  accom 
panied  by  several  of  his  Indian  guides.  The  latter  informed 
Chiapes  of  the  supernatural  power  of  the  Spaniards,  assuring 
him  that  they  exterminated  with  thunder  and  lightning  all 
who  dared  to  oppose  them,  but  loaded  all  such  as  submitted 
to  them  with  benefits.  They  advised  him,  therefore,  to  throw 
himself  upon  their  mercy  and  seek  their  friendship. 

The  cacique  listened  to  their  advice,  and  came  trembling  to 
the  Spaniards,  bringing  with  him  five  hundred  pounds  weight 
of  wrought  gold  as  a  peace  offering,  for  he  had  already  learnt 
the  value  they  set  upon  that  metal.  Vasco  Nufiez  received 

*  Vidas  de  Espanoles  Cek-bres,  por  Don  Manuel  Josef  Quintana.    Tom.  ii.  p.  40. 


VASCO  NUNEZ  DE  BALBOA.  125 

him  with  great  kindness,  and  graciously  accepted  his  gold, 
for  which  he  gave  him  beads,  hawks'  bells,  and  looking-glasses, 
making  him,  in  his  own  conceit,  the  richest  potentate  on  that 
side  of  the  mountains. 

Friendship  being  thus  established  between  them,  Vasco 
Nuiiez  remained  at  the  village  for  a  few  days,  sending  back 
the  guides  who  had  accompanied  him  from  Quaraqua,  and 
ordering  his  people,  whom  he  had  left  at  that  place,  to  rejoin 
him.  In  the  mean  time  he  sent  out  three  scouting  parties,  of 
twelve  men  each,  under  Francisco  Pizarro,  Juan  de  Escary, 
and  Alonzo  Martin  de  Don  Benito,  to  explore  the  surrounding 
country  and  discover  the  best  route  to  the  sea.  Alonzo  Martin 
was  the  most  successful.  After  two  days'  journey  he  came  to 
a  beach,  where  he  found  two  large  canoes  lying  high  and  dry, 
without  any  water  being  in  sight.  While  the  Spaniards  were 
regarding  these  canoes,  and  wondering  why  they  should  be  so 
far  on  land,  the  tide,  which  rises  to  a  great  height  on  that 
coast,  came  rapidly  in  and  set  them  afloat ;  upon  this,  Alonzo 
Martin  stepped  into  one  of  them,  and  called  his  companions  to 
bear  witness  that  he  was  the  first  European  that  embarked  upon 
that  sea ;  his  example  was  followed  by  one  Bias  de  Etienza,  who 
called  them  likewise  to  testify  that  he  was  the  second.* 

We  mention  minute  particulars  of  the  kind  as  being  charac 
teristic  of  these  extraordinary  enterprises,  and  of  the  extra 
ordinary  people  who  undertook  them.  The  humblest  of  these 
Spanish  adventurers  seemed  actuated  by  a  swelling  and 
ambitious  spirit,  that  rose  superior  at  times  to  mere  sordid 
considerations,  and  aspired  to  share  the  glory  of  these  great 
discoveries.  The  scouting  party  having  thus  explored  a  direct 
route  to  the  sea  coast,  returned  to  report  their  success  to  their 
commander. 

Vasco  Nuiiez  being  rejoined  by  his  men  from  Quaraqua,  now 
left  the  greater  part  of  his  followers  to  repose  and  recover  from 
their  sickness'  and  fatigues  in  the  village  of  Chiapes,  and, 
taking  with  him  twenty-six  Spaniards,  well  armed,  he  set  ou^ 
on  the  twenty-ninth  of  September,  for  the  sea  coast,  accom 
panied  by  the  cacique  and  a  number  of  his  warriors.  The 
thick  forest  which  covered  the  mountains  descend  I  to  the 
very  margin  of  the  sea,  surrounding  and  overshadowing  the 
wide  and  beautiful  bays  that  penetrated  far  into  the  land. 
The  whole  coast,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  was  perfectly 

*  Hen-era,  Hist.  Ind.  d.  i.  1.  x.  c.  2. 


126  /SPANISH   VOYAGES  OF  DISCO  VERT. 

wild,  the  sea  without  a  sail,  and  both  seemed  never  to  have 
been  under  the  dominion  of  civilized  man. 

Vasco  Nunez  arrived  on  the  borders  of  one  of  those  vast 
bays,  to  which  he  gave  the  name  of  Saint  Michael,  it  being 
discovered  on  that  saint's  day.  The  tide  was  out,  the  water 
was  above  half  a  league  distant,  and  the  intervening  beach 
was  covered  with  mud ;  he  seated  himself,  therefore,  under  the 
shade  of  the  forest  trees  until  the  tide  should  rise.  After  a 
while  the  water  came  rushing  in  with  great  impetuosity,  and 
soon  reached  nearly  to  the  place  where  the  Spaniards  were 
reposing.  Upon  this,  Vasco  Nunez  rose  and  took  a  banner,  on 
which  were  painted  the  Virgin  and  child,  and  under  them'the 
arms  of  Castile  and  Leon;  then  drawing  his  sword  and  throw 
ing  his  buckler  on  his  shoulder,  he  marched  into  the  sea  until 
the  water  reached  above  his  knees,  and  waving  his  banner,  ex 
claimed,  with  a  loud  voice,  "Long  live  the  high  and  mighty 
monarchs,  Don  Ferdinand  and  Donna  Juanna,  sovereigns  of 
Castile,  of  Leon,  and  of  Arragon,  in  whose  name,  and  for  the 
royal  crown  of  Castile,  I  take  real,  and  corporal,  and  actual 
possession  of  these  seas,  and  lands,  and  coasts,  and  ports,  and 
islands  of  the  South,  and  all  thereunto  annexed;  and  of  the 
kingdoms  and  provinces  which  do  or  may  appertain  to  them 
in  whatever  manner,  or  by  whatever  right  or  title,  ancient  or 
modern,  in  times  past,  present,  or  to  come,  without  any  con 
tradiction  •  and  if  other  prince  or  captain,  Christian  or  infidel, 
or  of  any  law,  sect,  or  condition  whatsoever,  shall  pretend  any 
right  to  these  lands  and  seas,  I  am  ready  and  prepared  to 
maintain  and  defend  them  in  the  name  of  the  Castilian  sov 
ereigns,  present  and  future,  whose  is  the  empire  and  dominion 
over  these  Indias,  islands,  and  terra  firma,  northern  and 
southern,  with  all  their  seas,  both  at  the  arctic  and  antarctic 
poles,  on  either  side  of  the  equinoxial  line,  whether  within  or 
without  the  tropics  of  Cancer  and  Capricorn,  both  now  and  in 
all  times,  as  long  as  the  world  endures,  and  until  the  final  day 
of  judgment  of  all  mankind." 

This  swelling  declaration  and  defiance  being  uttered  with  a 
loud  voice,  and  no  one  appearing  to  dispute  his  pretensions, 
Vasco  Nunez  called  upon  his  companions  to  bear  witness  of  the 
fact  of  his  having  duly  taken  possession.  They  all  declared 
themselves  ready  to  defend  his  claim  to  the  uttermost,  as  be 
came  true  and  loyal  vassals  to  the  Castilian  sovereigns ;  and 
the  notary  having  drawn  up  a  document  for  the  occasion,  they 
all  subscribed  it  with  their  names. 


VASCO  NUNEZ  DE  E ALSO  A.  127 

This  done,  they  advanced  to  the  margin  of  the  sea,  and 
stooping  down  tasted  its  waters.  When  they  found,  that, 
though  severed  by  intervening  mountains  and  continents,  they 
were  salt  like  the  seas  of  the  north,  they  felt  assured  that 
they  had  indeed  discovered  an  ocean,  and  again  returned 
thanks  to  God. 

Having  concluded  all  these  ceremonies,  Vasco  Nunez  drew  a 
dagger  from  his  girdle  and  cut  a  cross  on  a  tree  which  grew 
within  the  water,  and  made  two  other  crosses  on  two  adjacent 
trees  in  honour  of  the  Three  Persons  of  the  Trinity,  and  in 
token  of  possession.  His  followers  likewise  cut  crosses  on 
many  of.  the  trees  of  the  adjacent  forest,  and  lopped  off 
branches  with  their  swords  to  bear  away  as  trophies.  * 

Such  was  the  singular  medley  of  chivalrous  and  religious 
ceremonial  with  which  these  Spanish  adventurers  took  pos 
session  of  the  vast  Pacific  Ocean,  and  all  its  lands— a  scene 
strongly  characteristic  of  the  nation  and  the  age. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

ADVENTURES  OF  VASCO  NUNEZ  ON  THE  BORDERS  OF  THE  PACIFIC 

OCEAN. 

WHILE  he  made  the  village  of  Chiapes  his  headquarters, 
Vasco  Nuiiea  foraged  the  adjacent  country  and  obtained  a 
considerable  quantity  of  gold  from  the  natives.  Encouraged 
by  his  success,  he  undertook  to  explore  by  sea  the  borders  of  a 
neighbouring  gulf  of  great  extent,  which  penetrated  far  into 
the  land.  The  cacique  Chiapes  warned  him  of  the  danger  of 
venturing  to  sea  in  the  stormy  season,  which  comprises  the 
months  of  October,  November,  and  December,  assuring  him 
that  he  had  beheld  many  canoes  swallowed  up  in  the  mighty 
waves  and  whirlpools,  which  at  such  times  render  the  gulf 
almost  unnavigable. 

These  remonstrances  were  unavailing:  Vasco  Nuilez  ex 
pressed  a  confident  belief  that  God  would  protect  him,  seeing 
that  his  voyage  was  to  redound  to  the  propagation  of  the  faith, 

*  Many  of  the  foregoing  particulars  are  from  the  unpublished  volume  of  Oviedo's 
History  of  the  Indias. 


128  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OP  DISCOVERT. 

and  the  augmentation  of  the  power  of  the  Castilian  monarchs 
over  the  infidels ;  and  in  truth  this  bigoted  reliance  on  the  im 
mediate  protection  of  heaven  seems  to  have  been  in  a  great 
measure  the  cause  of  the  extravagant  daring  of  the  Spaniards 
in  their  expeditions  in  those  days,  whether  against  Moors  or 
Indians. 

Seeing  his  representations  of  no  effect,  Chiapes  volunteered 
to  take  part  in  this  perilous  cruise,  lest  he  should  appear  want 
ing  in  courage,  or  in  good-will  to  his  guest.  Accompanied 
by  the  cacique,  therefore,  Vasco  Nufiez  embarked  on  the  17th 
of  October  with  sixty  of  his  men  in  nine  canoes,  managed  by 
Indians,  leaving  the  residue  of  his  followers  to  recruit  their 
health  and  strength  in  the  village  of  Chiapes. 

Scarcely,  however,  had  they  put  forth  on  the  broad  bosom 
of  the  gulf  when  the  wisdom  of  the  cacique's  advice  was  made 
apparent.  The  wind  began  to  blow  freshly,  raising  a  heavy 
and  tumultuous  sea,  which  broke  in  roaring  and  foaming 
surges  on  the  rocks  and  reefs,  and  among  the  numerous  islets 
with  which  the  gulf  was  studded.  The  light  canoes  were 
deeply  laden  with  men  unskilled  in  their  management.  It  was 
frightful  to  those  in  one  canoe  to  behold  their  "companions,  one 
instant  tossed  on  high  on  the  breaking  crest  of  a  wave,  the 
next  plunging  out  of  sight,  as  if  swallowed  in  a  watery  abyss, 
The  Indians  themselves,  though  almost  amphibious  in  their 
habits,  showed  signs  of  consternation ;  for  amidst  these  rocks 
and  breakers  even  the  skill  of  the  expert  swimmer  would  be 
of  little  avail.  At  length  the  Indians  succeeded  in  tying  the 
canoes  in  pairs,  side  by  side,  to  prevent  their  being  overturned, 
and  in  this  way  they  kept  afloat,  until  towards  evening  they 
were  enabled  to  reach  a  small  island.  Here  they  landed,  and 
fastening  the  canoes  to  the  rocks,  or  to  small  trees  that  grew 
upon  the  shore,  they  sought  an  elevated  dry  place,  and 
stretched  themselves  to  take  repose.  They  had  but  escaped 
from  one  danger  to  encounter  another.  Having  been  for  a 
long  time  accustomed  to  the  sea  on  the  northern  side  of  the 
isthmus,  where  there  is  little,  if  any,  rise  or  fall  of  the  tide, 
they  had  neglected  to  take  any  precaution  against  such  an  oc 
currence.  In  a  little  while  they  were  awakened  from  their 
sleep  by  the  rapid  rising  of  the  water.  They  shifted  their  sit 
uation  to  a  higher  ground,  but  the  waters  continued  to  gain 
upon  them,  the  breakers  rushing  and  roaring  and  foaming 
upon  the  beach  like  so  many  monsters  of  the  deep  seeking  for 
their  prey.  Nothing,  it  is  said,  can  be  more  dismal  and  ap' 


VASCO  XUNKZ  DE  BALBOA.  129 

palling  than  the  sullen  bellowing  of  the  sea  among  the  islands 
of  that  gulf  at  the  rising  and  falling  of  the  tide.  By  degrees, 
rock  after  rock,  and  one  sand  bank  after  another  disappeared, 
until  the  sea  covered  the  whole  island,  and  rose  almost  to  the 
girdles  of  the  Spaniards.  Their  situation  was  now  agonizing. 
A  little  more  and  the  waters  would  overwhelm  them ;  or,  even 
as  it  was,  the  least  surge  might  break  over  them  and  sweep 
them  from  their  unsteady  footing.  Fortunately  the  wind  had 
lulled,  and  the  sea,  having  risen  above  the  rocks  which  had 
fretted  it.  was  calm.  The  tide  had  reached  its  height  and 
began  to  subside,  and  after  a  time  they  heard  the  retiring 
waves  beating  against  the  rocks  below  them. 

When  the  day  dawned  they  sought  their  canoes ;  but  here  a 
sad  spectacle  met  their  eyes.  Some  were  broken  to  pieces, 
others  yawning  open  in  many  parts.  The  clothing  and  food 
left  in  them  had  been  washed  away,  and  replaced  by  sand  and 
water.  The  Spaniards  gazed  on  the  scene  in  mute  despair; 
they  were  faint  and  weary,  and  needed  food  and  repose,  but 
famine  and  labour  awaited  them,  even  if  they  should  escape 
with  their  lives.  Vasco  Nuiiez,  however,  rallied  their  spirits, 
and  set  them  an  example  by  his  own  cheerful  exertions.  Obey 
ing  his  directions,  they  set  to  work  to  repair,  in  the  best  man 
ner  they  were  able,  the  damages  of  the  canoes.  Such  as  were 
not  too  much  shattered  they  bound  and  braced  up  with  their 
girdles,  with  slips  of  tjie  bark  of  trees,  or  with  the  tough  long 
stalks  of  certain  sea-weeds.  They  then  peeled  off  the  bark 
from  the  small  sea  plants,  pounded  it  between  stones,  and  mixed 
it  with  grass,  and  with  this  endeavoured  to  caulk  the  seams 
and  stop  the  leaks  that  remained.  When  they  re-embarked, 
their  numbers  weighed  down  the  canoes  almost  to  the  water's 
edge,  and  as  they  rose  and  sank  with  the  swelling  waves  there 
was  danger  of  their  being  swallowed  up.  All  day  they  laboured 
with  the  sea,  suffering  excessively  from  the  pangs  of  hunger 
and  thirst,  and  at  nightfall  they  landed  in  a  corner  of  the  gulf, 
near  the  abode  of  a  cacique  named  Tumaco.  Leaving  a  part  of 
his  men  to  guard  the  canoes,  Vasco  Nunez  set  out  with  the 
residue  for  the  Indian  town.  He  arrived  there  about  midnight, 
but  the  inhabitants  were  on  the  alert  to  defend  their  habita 
tions.  The  fire-arms  and  dogs  soon  put  them  to  flight,  and  the 
Spaniards  pursuing  them  with  their  swords,  drove  them  howl 
ing  into  the  woods.  In  the  village  were  found  provisions  in 
abundance,  beside  a  considerable  amount  of  gold  and  a  great 
quantity  of  pearls,  many  of  them  of  a  large  size.  In  the  house 


130  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

of  the  cacique  were  several  huge  shells  of  mother-of-pearl,  and 
four  pearl  oysters  quite  fresh,  which  showed  that  there  was  a 
pearl  fishery  in  the  neighbourhood.  Eager  to  learn  the  sources 
of  this  wealth,  Vasco  Nunez  sent  several  of  the  Indians  of 
Chiapes  in  search  of  the  cacique,  who  traced  him  to  a  wild  re 
treat  among  the  rocks.  By  their  persuasions  Tiimaco  sent  his 
son,  a  fine  young  savage,  as  a  mediator.  The  latter  returned 
to  his  father  loaded  with  presents,  and  extolling  the  benignity 
of  these  superhuman  beings,  who  had  shown  themselves  so  ter 
rible  in  battle.  By  these  means,  and  by  a  mutual  exchange  of 
presents,  a  friendly  intercourse  was  soon  established.  Among 
other  things  the  cacique  gave  Vasco  Nunez  jewels  of  gold 
weighing  six  hundred  and  fourteen  crowns,  and  two  hundred 
pearls  of  great  size  and  beauty,  excepting  that  they  were  some 
what  discoloured  in  consequence  of  the  oysters  having  been 
opened  by  fire. 

The  cacique  seeing  the  value  which  the  Spaniards  set  upon 
the  pearls,  sent  a  number  of  his  men  to  fish  for  them  at  a  place 
about  ten  miles  distant.  Certain  of  the  Indians  were  trained 
from  their  youth  to  this  purpose,  so  as  to  become  expert  divers, 
and  to  acquire  the  power  of  remaining  a  long  time  beneath  the 
water.  The  largest  pearls  are  generally  found  in  the  deepest 
waters,  sometimes  in  three  and  four  fathoms,  and  are  only 
sought  in  calm  weather;  the  smaller  sort  are  found  at  the 
depth  of  two  and  three  feet,  and  the  oysters  containing  them 
are  often  driven  in  quantities  on  the  beach  during  violent 
storms. 

The  party  of  pearl  divers  sent  by  the  cacique  consisted  of 
thirty  Indians,  with  whom  Vasco  Nuilez  sent  six  Spaniards  as 
eye-witnesses.  The  sea,  however,  was  so  furious  at  that 
stormy  season  that  the  divers  dared  not  venture  into  the  deep 
water.  Such  a  number  of  the  shell-fish,  however,  had  been 
driven  on  shore,  that  they  collected  enough  to  yield  pearls  to 
the  value  of  twelve  marks  of  gold.  They  were  small,  but  ex 
ceedingly  beautiful,  being  newly  taken  and  uninjured  by  fire. 
A  number  of  these  shell-fish  and  their  pearls  were  selected  to 
be  sent  to  Spain  as  specimens. 

In  reply  to  the  inquiries  of  Vasco  Nunez,  the  cacique  informed 
him  that  the  coast  which  he  saw  stretching  to  the  west  con 
tinued  onwards  without  end,  and  that  far  to  the  south  there 
was  a  country  abounding  in  gold,  where  the  inhabitants  made 
use  of  certain  quadrupeds  to  carry  burthens.  He  moulded  a 
figure  of  clay  to  represent  these  animals,  which  some  of  the 


VAXL'U   AL'S'L'Z  DE  BALBOA.  131 

Spaniards  supposed  to  be  a  deer,  others  a  camel,  others  a  tapir, 
for  as  yet  they  knew  nothing  of  the  lama,  the  native  beast  of 
burthen  of  South  America.  This  was  the  second  intimation 
received  by  Vasco  Nunez  of  the  great  empire  of  Peru ;  and, 
while  it  confirmed  all  that  had  been  told  him  by  the  son  of 
Comagre,  it  filled  him  with  glowing  anticipations  of  the  glori 
ous  triumphs  that  awaited  him. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

FURTHER  ADVENTURES  AND  EXPLOITS  OF  VASCO  NUNEZ  ON  THE 
BORDERS  OF  THE  PACIFIC  OCEAN. 

LEST  any  ceremonial  should  be  wanting  to  secure  this  grand 
discovery  to  the  crown  of  Spain,  Vasco  Nunez  determined  to 
sally  from  the  gulf  and  take  possession  of  the  main  land  be 
yond.  The  cacique  Tumaco  furnished  him  with  a  canoe  of 
state,  formed  from  the  trunk  of  an  enormous  tree,  and  managed 
by  a  great  number  of  Indians.  The  handles  of  the  paddles 
were  inlaid  with  small  pearls,  a  circumstance  which  Vasco 
Nufiez  caused  his  companions  to  testify  before  the  notary,  that 
it  might  be  reported  to  the  sovereigns  as  a  proof  of  the  wealth 
of  this  newly  discovered  sea.  * 

Departing  in  the  canoe  on  the  29th  of  October,  he  was  piloted 
cautiously  by  the  Indians  along  the  borders  of  the  gulf,  over 
drowned  lands  where  the  sea  was  fringed  by  inundated  forests 
and  as  still  as  a  pool.  Arrived  at  the  point  of  the  gulf,  Vasco 
Nufiez  landed  on  a  smooth  sandy  beach,  laved  by  the  waters 
of  the  broad  ocean,  and,  with  buckler  on  arm,  sword  in  hand, 
and  banner  displayed,  again  marched  into  the  sea  and  took 
possession  of  it,  with  like  ceremonials  to  those  observed  in  the 
Gulf  of  St.  Michael's. 

The  Indians  now  pointed  to  a  line  of  land  rising  above  the 
horizon  about  four  or  five  leagues  distant,  which  they  described 
as  being  a  great  island,  the  principal  one  of  an  archipelago. 
The  whole  group  abounded  with  pearls,  but  those  taken  on  the 
coasts  of  this  island  were  represented  as  being  of  immense  size, 
many  of  them  as  large  as  a  man's  eye,  and  found  in  shell-fish  as 

*  Oviedo,  Hist.  Gen.  p.  2,  MS. 


132         •       SPANISH    VOYAGES   OF  DISCOVERY. 

big  as  bucklers.  This  island  and  the  surrounding  cluster  of 
small  ones,  they  added,  were  under  the  dominion  of  a  tyranni 
cal  and  puissant  cacique,  who  often,  during  the  calm  seasons, 
made  descents  upon  the  main  land  with  fleets  of  canoes,  plun 
dering  and  desolating  the  coasts,  and  carrying  the  people  into 
captivity. 

Vasco  Nunez  gazed  with  an  eager  and  wistful  eye  at  this 
land  of  riches,  and  would  have  immediately  undertaken  an  ex 
pedition  to  it,  had  not  the  Indians  represented  the  danger  of 
venturing  on  such  a  voyage  in  that  tempestuous  season  in  their 
frail  canoes.  His  own  recent  experience  convinced  him  of  the 
wisdom  of  their  remonstrances.  He  postponed  his  visit,  there 
fore,  to  a  future  occasion,  when,  he  assured  his  allies,  he  would 
avenge  them  upon  this  tyrant  invader,  and  deliver  their  coasts 
from  his  maraudings.  In  the  mean  time  he  gave  to  this  island 
the  name  of  Isla  Rica,  and  the  little  archipelago  surrounding  it 
the  general  appellation  of  the  Pearl  Islands. 

On  the  third  of  November  Vasco  Nunez  departed  from  the 
province  of  Tumaco,  to  visit  other  parts  of  the  coast.  He  em 
barked  with  his  men  in  the  canoes,  accompanied  by  Chiapes 
and  his  Indians,  and  guided  by  the  son  of  Tumaco,  who  had 
become  strongly  attached  to  the  Spaniards.  The  young  man 
piloted  them  along  an  arm  of  the  sea,  wide  in  some  places,  but 
in  others  obstructed  by  groves  of  mangrove  trees,  which  grew 
within  the  water  and  interlaced  their  branches  from  shore  to 
shore,  so  that  at  times  the  Spaniards  were  obliged  to  cut  a  pas 
sage  with  their  swords. 

At  length  they  entered  a  great  and  turbulent  river,  which 
they  ascended  with  difficulty,  and  early  the  next  morning 
surprised  a  village  on  its  banks,  making  the  cacique  Teao- 
chan  prisoner ;  who  purchased  their  favour  and  kind  treatment 
by  a  quantity  of  gold  and  pearls,  and  an  abundant  supply  of 
provisions.  As  it  was  the  intention  of  Vasco  Nunez  to  aban 
don  the  shores  of  the  Southern  Ocean  at  this  place,  and  to 
strike  across  the  mountains  for  Darien,  he  took  leave  of 
Chiapes  and  of  the  youthful  son  of  Tumaco,  who  were  to  re 
turn  to  their  houses  in  the  canoes.  He  sent  at  the  same  time 
a  message  to  his  men,  whom  he  had  left  in  the  village  of 
Chiapes,  appointing  a  place  in  the  mountains  where  they  were 
to  rejoin  him  on  his  way  back  to  Darien. 

The  talent  of  Vasco  Nuiiez  for  conciliating  and  winning  the 
good -will  of  the  savages  is  often  mentioned,  and  to  such  a  de 
gree  had  he  exerted  it  in  the  present  instance,  that  the  two 


VASCO   NUNEZ  DE  BALBOA.  333 

chieftains  shed  tears  at  parting.  Their  conduct  had  a  favour 
able  effect  upon  the  cacique  Teaochan ;  he  entertained  Vasco 
Nuiiez  with  the  most  devoted  hospitality  during  three  days 
that  he  remained  in  his  village ;  when  about  to  depart  he  fur 
nished  him  with  a  stock  of  provisions  sufficient  for  several 
days,  as  his  route  would  lay  over  rocky  and  sterile  mountains. 
He  sent  also  a  numerous  band  of  his  subjects  to  carry  the  bur 
thens  of  the  Spaniards.  These  he  placed  under  the  command 
of  his  son,  whom  he  ordered  never  to  separate  from  the  stran 
gers,  nor  to  permit  any  of  his*  men  to  return  without  the  con 
sent  of  Vasco  Nunez. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

VASCO  NUNEZ  SETS  OUT  ON  HIS  RETURN  ACROSS  THE  MOUNTAINS 
— HIS  CONTESTS  WITH  THE  SAVAGES. 

TURNING  their  backs  upon  the  Southern  Sea,  the  Spaniards 
now  began  painfully  to  clamber  the  rugged  mountains  on  their 
return  to  Darien. 

In  the  early  part  of  their  route  an  unlooked-for  suffering 
awaited  them :  there  was  neither  brook  nor  fountain  nor  stand 
ing  pool.  The  burning  heat,  which  produced  intolerable  thirst, 
had  dried  up  all  the  mountain  torrents,  and  they  were  tanta 
lized  by  the  sight  of  naked  and  dusty  channels  where  water 
had  once  flowed  in  abundance.  Their  sufferings  at  length  in 
creased  to  such  a  height  that  many  threw  themselves  fevered 
and  panting  upon  the  earth>  and  were  ready  to  give  up  the 
ghost.  The  Indians,  however,  encouraged  them  to  proceed, 
by  hopes  of  speedy  relief,  and  after  a  while,  turning  aside 
from  the  direct  course,  led  them  into  a  deep  and  narrow  glen, 
refreshed  and  cooled  by  a  fountain  which  bubbled  out  of  a  cleft 
of  the  rocks. 

While  refreshing  themselves  at  the  fountain,  and  reposing  in 
the  little  valley,  they  learnt  from  their  guides  that  they  were 
in  the  territories  of  a  powerful  chief  named  Poncra,  famous 
for  his  riches.  The  Spaniards  had  already  heard  of  the  golden 
stores  of  this  Crossus  of  the  mountains,  and  being  now  re 
freshed  and  invigorated,  pressed  forward  with  eagerness  for 
his  village. 


134  SPANISH   VOYAGES   OF  DISCOVERY. 

The  cacique  and  most  of  his  people  fled  at  their  approach, 
but  they  found  an  earnest  of  his  wealth  in  the  deserted  houses, 
amounting  to  the  value  of  three  thousand  crowns  in  gold. 
Their  avarice  thus  whetted,  they  despatched  Indians  in  search 
of  Poncra,  who  found  him  trembling  in  his  secret  retreat,  and 
partly  by  threats,  partly  by  promises,  prevailed  upon  him  and 
three  of  his  principal  subjects  to  come  to  Vasco  Nunez.  He 
was  a  savage,  it  is  said,  so  hateful  of  aspect,  so  misshapen  in 
body  and  deformed  in  all  his  members,  that  he  was  hideous  to 
behold.  The  Spaniards  endeavoured  by  gentle  means  to  draw 
from  him  information  of  the  places  from  whence  he  had  pro 
cured  his  gold.  He  professed  utter  ignorance  in  the  matter, 
declaring  that  the  gold  found  in  his  village  had  been  gathered 
by  his  predecessors  in  times  long  past,  and  that  as  he  himself 
set  no  value  on  the  metal,  he  had  never  troubled  himself  to 
seek  it.  The  Spaniards  resorted  to  menaces,  and  even,  it  is 
said,  to  tortures,  to  compel  him  to  betray  his  reputed  treasures, 
but  with  no  better  success.  Disappointed  in  their  expecta 
tions,  and  enraged  at  his  supposed  obstinacy,  they  listened  too 
readily  to  charges  advanced  against  him  by  certain  caciques 
of  the  neighbourhood,  who  represented  him  as  a  monster  of 
cruelty,  and  as  guilty  of  crimes  repugnant  to  nature  ;*  where 
upon,  in  the  heat  of  the  moment,  they  gave  him  and  his  three 
companions,  who  were  said  to  be  equally  guilty,  to  be  torn  in 
pieces  by  the  dogs. — A  rash  and  cruel  sentence,  given  on  the 
evidence  of  avowed  enemies ;  arid  which,  however  it  may  be 
palliated  by  the  alleged  horror  and  disgust  of  the  Spaniards  at 
the  imputed  crimes  of  the  cacique,  bears  too  much  the  stamp 
of  haste  and  passion,  and  remains  a  foul  blot  on  the  character 
of  Vasco  Nunez. 

The  Spaniards  remained  for  thirty  days  reposing  in  the  vil 
lage  of  the  unfortunate  Poncra,  during  which  time  they  were 
rejoined  by  their  companions,  who  had  been  left  behind  at  the 
village  of  Chiapes.  They  were  accompanied  by  a  cacique  of 
the  mountains,  who  had  lodged  and  fed  them,  and  made  them 
presents  of  the  value  of  two  thousand  crowns  in  gold.  This 
hospitable  savage  approached  Vasco  Nunez  with  a  serene 
countenance,  and  taking  him  by  the  hand,  "Behold,"  said  he, 
"  most  valiant  and  powerful  chief,  I  bring  thee  thy  companions 
safe  and  well,  as  they  entered  under  my  roof.  May  he  who 
made  the  thunder  and  lightning,  and  who  gives  us  the  fruits 

*  P.  Martyr,  d.  iii.  c.  2, 


VASCO  NUNEZ  DE  BALBOA.  135 

of  the  earth,  preserve  thee  and  thine  in  safety !"  So  saying, 
he  raised  his  eyes  to  the  sun,  as  if  he  worshipped  that  as  his 
deity  and  the  dispenser  of  all  temporal  blessings.* 

Departing  from  this  village,  and  being  still  accompanied  by 
the  Indians  of  Teaochan,  the  Spaniards  now  bent  their  course 
along  the  banks  of  the  river  Comagre,  which  descends  the 
northern  side  of  the  Isthmus,  and  flows  through  the  territories 
of  the  cacique  of  the  same  name.  This  wild  stream,  which 
in  the  course  of  ages  had  worn  a  cnannel  through  the  deep 
clefts  and  ravines  of  the  mountains,  was  bordered  by  preci 
pices,  or  overhung  by  shagged  forests;  they  soon  abandoned 
it,  therefore,  and  wandered  on  without  any  path,  but  guided 
by  the  Indians.  They  had  to  climb  terrible  precipices,  and  to 
descend  into  deep  valleys,  darkened  by  thick  forests  and  beset 
by  treacherous  morasses,  where,  but  for  their  guides,  they 
might  have  been  smothered  in  the  mire. 

In  the  course  of  this  rugged  journey  they  suffered  excessive 
ly  in  consequence  of  their  own  avarice.  They  had  been  warned 
of  the  sterility  of  the  country  they  were  about  to  traverse,  and 
of  the  necessity  of  providing  amply  for  the  journey.  When  they 
came  to  lade  the  Indians,  however,  who  bore  their  burdens, 
their  only  thought  was  how  to  convey  the  most  treasure ;  and 
they  grudged  even  a  slender  supply  of  provisions,  as  taking  up 
the  place  of  an  equal  weight  of  gold.  The  consequences  were 
soon  felt.  The  Indians  could  carry  but  small  burthens,  and  at 
the  same  time  assisted  to  consume  the  scanty  stock  of  food 
which  formed  part  of  their  load.  Scarcity  and  famine  ensued, 
and  relief  was  rarely  to  be  procured,  for  the  villages  on  this 
elevated  part  of  the  mountains  were  scattered  and  poor,  and 
nearly  destitute  of  provisions.  They  held  no  communication 
with  each  other ;  each  contenting  itself  with  the  scanty  prod 
uce  of  its  own  fields  and  forest.  Some  were  entirely  deserted ; 
at  other  places,  the  inhabitants,  forced  from  their  retreats, 
implored  pardon,  and  declared  they  had  hidden  themselves 
through  shame,  not  having  the  means  of  properly  entertaining 
such  celestial  visitors.  They  brought  peace-offerings  of  gold, 
but  no  provisions.  For  once  the  Spaniards  found  that  even 
their  darling  gold  could  fail  to  cheer  their  drooping  spirits. 
Their  sufferings  from  hunger  became  intense,  and  many  of 
their  Indian  companions  sank  down  and  perished  by  the  way. 
At  length  they  reached  a  village  where  they  were  enabled  to 

*  Herrera,  d.  i.  1.  x.  c.  4. 


136  8PAX.ISII   VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERT. 

obtain  supplies,  and  where  they  remained  thirty  days,  to  re 
cruit  their  wasted  strength. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

ENTERPRISE  AGAINST  TUBANAMA,  THE  WARLIKE   CACIQUE  OF  THE 
MOUNTAINS — RETURN  TO  DARIEN. 

THE  Spaniards  had  now  to  pass  through  the  territories  of 
Tubanama,  the  most  potent  and  warlike  cacique  of  the  moun 
tains.  This  was  the  same  chieftain  of  whom  a  formidable 
character  had  been  given  by  the  young  Indian  prince,  who 
first  informed  Vasco  Nunez  of  the  southern  sea.  He  had  erro 
neously  represented  the  dominions  of  Tubanama  as  lying  be 
yond  the  mountains ;  and,  when  he  dwelt  upon  the  quantities 
of  gold  to  be  found  in  them,  had  magnified  the  dangers  that 
would  attend  any  attempt  to  pass  their  borders.  The  name  of 
this  redoubtable  cacique  was,  in  fact,  a  terror  throughout  the 
country ;  and,  when  Vasco  Nunez  looked  round  upon  his  hand 
ful  of  pale  and  emaciated  followers,  he  doubted  whether  even 
the  superiority  of  their  weapons  and  their  military  skill  would 
enable  them  to  cope  with  Tubanama  and  his  armies  in  open 
contest.  He  resolved,  therefore,  to  venture  upon  a  perilous 
stratagem.  When  he  made  it  known  to  his  men,  every  one 
pressed  forward  to  engage  in  it.  Choosing  seventy  of  the  most 
vigorous,  he  ordered  the  rest  to  maintain  their  post  in  the  vil 
lage. 

As  soon  as  night  had  fallen,  he  departed  silently  and  secretly 
with  his  chosen  band  and  made  his  way  with  such  rapidity 
through  the  labyrinths  of  the  forests  and  the  defiles  of  the 
mountains  that  he  arrived  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  resi 
dence  of  Tubanama  by  the  following  evening,  though  at  the 
distance  of  two  regular  days'  journey. 

There,  waiting  until  midnight,  he  assailed  the  village  sud 
denly  and  with  success,  so  as  to  surprise  and  capture  the 
cacique  and  his  whole  family,  in  which  were  eighty  females. 
When  Tubanama  found  himself  a  prisoner  in  the  hands  of  the 
Spaniards,  he  lost  all  presence  of  mind  and  wept  bitterly.  The 
Indian  allies  of  Vasco  Nuiiez,  beholding  their  once-dreaded 
enemy  thus  fallen  and  captive,  now  urged  that  he  should  ba 


VASCO  NV3KZ  DE  BALBOA.  137 

put  to  death,  accusing  him  of  various  crimes  and  cruelties. 
Vasco  Nunez  pretended  to  listen  to  their  prayers,  and  gave 
orders  that  his  captive  should  be  tied  hand  and  foot  and  given 
to  the  dogs.  The  cacique  approached  him  trembling,  and  laid 
his  hand  upon  the  pommel  of  his  sword.  "Who  can  pretend," 
said  he,  ' '  to  strive  with  one  who  bears  this  weapon,  which  can 
cleave  a  man  asunder  with  a  blow?  Ever  since  thy  fame  has 
reached  among  these  mountains  have  I  reverenced  thy  valour. 
Spare  my  life  and  thou  shalt  have  all  the  gold  I  can  procure. " 

Vasco  Nuiiez,  whose  anger  was  assumed,  was  readily  paci 
fied.  As  soon  as  the  day  dawned  the  cacique  gave  him  arm 
lets  and  other  jewels  of  gold  to  the  value  of  three  thousand 
crowns,  and  sent  messengers  throughout  his  dominions  order 
ing  his  subjects  to  aid  in  paying  his  ransom.  The  poor  In 
dians,  with  their  accustomed  loyalty,  hastened  in  crowds, 
bringing  their  golden  ornaments,  until,  in  the  course  of  three 
days,  they  had  produced  an  amount  equal  to  six  thousand 
crowns.  This  done,  Vasco  Nunez  set  the  cacique  at  liberty, 
bestowing  on  him  several  European  trinkets,  with  which  he 
considered  himself  richer  than  he  had  been  with  all  his  gold. 
Nothing  would  draw  from  him,  however,  the  disclosure  of  the 
mines  from  whence  this  treasure  was  procured.  He  declared 
that  it  came  from  the  territories  of  his  neighbours,  where  gold 
and  pearls  were  to  be  found  in  abundance ;  but  that  his  lands 
produced  nothing  of  the  kind.  Vasco  Nuiiez  doubted  his  sin 
cerity,  and  secretly  caused  the  brooks  and  rivers  in  his  domin 
ions  to  be  searched,  where  gold  was  found  in  such  quantities, 
that  he  determined  at  a  future  time  to  found  two  settlements 
in  the  neighbourhood. 

On  parting  with  Tubanama,  the  cacique  sent  his  son  with  the 
Spaniards  to  learn  their  language  and  religion.  It  is  said,  also, 
that  the  Spaniards  carried  off  his  eighty  women ;  but  of  this  par 
ticular  fact,  Oviedo,  who  writes  with  the  papers  of  Vasco  Nunez 
before  him,  says  nothing.  He  affirms  generally,  however,  that 
the  Spaniards,  throughout  this  expedition,  were  not  scrupulous 
in  their  dealings  with  the  wives  and  daughters  of  the  Indians ; 
and  adds  that  in  this  their  commander  set  them  the  example.* 

Having  returned  to  the  village,  where  he  had  left  the  greater 
part  of  his  men,  Vasco  Nuiiez  resumed  his  homeward  march. 
His  people  were  feeble  and  exhausted  and  several  of  them  sick, 
so  that  some  had  to  be  carried  and  others  led  by  the  arms.  He 

*  Oviedo,  Hist.  Gen.  Part  II.  c.  4,  MS. 


138  SPANISH   VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

himself  was  part  of  the  time  afflicted  by  a  fever,  and  had  to  be 
borne  in  a  hammock  on  the  shoulders  of  the  Indians. 

Proceeding  thus  slowly  and  toilfully,  they  at  length  arrived 
on  the  northern  sea-coast,  at  the  territories  of  their  ally,  Co- 
niagre.  The  old  cacique  was  dead  and  had  been  succeeded  by 
his  son,  the  same  intelligent  youth  who  had  first  given  infor 
mation  of  the  southern  sea  and  the  kingdom  of  Peru.  The 
young  chief,  who  had  embraced  Christianity,  received  them 
with  great  hospitality,  making  them  presents  of  gold.  Vasco 
Nuilez  gave  him  trinkets  in  return  and  a  shirt  and  a  soldier's 
cloak ;  with  which,  says  Peter  Martyr,  he  thought  himself  half 
a  god  among  his  naked  countrymen.  After  having  reposed  for 
a  few  days,  Vasco  Nunez  proceeded  to  Ponca,  where  he  heard 
that  a  ship  and  caravel  had  arrived  at  Darien  from  Hispaniola 
with  reinforcements  and  supplies.  Hastening,  therefore,  to 
Coyba,  the  territories  of  his  ally,  Careta,  he  embarked  on  the 
18th  of  January,  1514,  with  twenty  of  his  men,  in  the  brigan- 
tine  which  he  had  left  there,  and  arrived  at  Santa  Maria  de  la 
Antigua  in  the  river  of  Darien  on  the  following  day.  All  the 
inhabitants  came  forth  to  receive  him ;  and,  when  they  heard 
the  news  of  the  great  southern  sea,  and  of  his  returning  from 
its  shores  laden  with  pearls  and  gold,  there  were  no  bounds  to 
their  joy.  He  immediately  despatched  the  ship  and  caravel  to 
Coyba  for  the  companions  he  had  left  behind,  who  brought 
with  them  the  remaining  booty,  consisting  of  gold  and  pearls, 
mantles,  hammocks,  and  other  articles  of  cotton,  and  a  great 
number  of  captives  of  both  sexes.  A  fifth  of  the  spoil  was  set 
apart  for  the  crown ;  the  rest  was  shared,  in  just  proportions, 
among  those  who  had  been  in  the  expedition  and  those  who 
had  remained  at  Darien.  All  were  contented  with  their  allot 
ment,  and  elated  with  the  prospect  of  still  greater  gain  from 
future  enterprises. 

Thus  ended  one  of  the  most  remarkable  expeditions  of  the 
early  discoverers.  The  intrepidity  of  Vasco  Nunez  in  pene 
trating  with  a  handful  of  men  far  into  the  interior  of  a  wild 
and  mountainous  country,  peopled  by  warlike  tribes :  his  skill 
in  managing  his  band  of  rough  adventurers,  stimulating  their 
valour,  enforcing  their  obedience,  and  attaching  their  affec 
tions,  show  him  to  have  possessed  great  qualities  as  a  general. 
We  are  told  that  he  was  always  foremost  in  peril  and  the  last 
to  quit  the  field.  He  shared  the  toils  and  dangers  of  the  mean 
est  of  his  followers,  treating  them  with  frank  affability ;  watch 
ing,  fighting,  fasting,  and  labouring  with  them;  visiting  and 


VASCO  NUNEZ  DE  BALBOA.  139 

consoling  such  as  were  sick  or  infirm,  and  dividing  all  his 
gains  with  fairness  and  liberality.  He  was  chargeable  at  times 
with  acts  of  bloodshed  and  injustice,  but  it  is  probable  that 
these  were  often  called  for  as  measures  of  safety  and  precau 
tion  ;  he  certainly  offended  less  against  humanity  than  most  of 
the  early  discoverers;  and  the  unbounded  amity  and  confi 
dence  reposed  in  him  by  the  natives,  when  they  became  inti 
mately  acquainted  with  his  character,  speak  strongly  in 
favour  of  his  kind  treatment  of  them. 

The  character  of  Vasco  Nuiiez  had,  in  fact,  risen  with  his 
circumstances,  and  now  assumed  a  nobleness  and  grandeur 
from  the  discovery  he  had  made,  and  the  important  charge  it 
had  devolved  upon  him.  He  no  longer  felt  himself  a  mere 
soldier  of  fortune,  at  the  head  of  a  band  of  adventurers,  but  a 
great  commander  conducting  an  immortal  enterprise.  "Be 
hold,"  says  old  Peter  Martyr,  "Vasco  Nunez  de  Balboa,  at 
once  transformed  from  a  rash  royster  to  a  politic  and  discreet 
captain :"  and  thus  it  is  that  men  are  often  made  by  their  for 
tunes;  that  is  to  say,  their  latent  qualities  are  brought  out, 
and  shaped  and  strengthened  by  events,  and  by  the  necessity 
of  every  exertion  to  cope  with  the  greatness  of  their  destiny. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

TRANSACTIONS  IN  SPAIN— PEDRARIAS  DA  VILA  APPOINTED  TO  THE 
COMMAND  OF  DARIEN — TIDINGS  RECEIVED  IN  SPAIN  OF  THE 
DISCOVERY  OF  THE  PACIFIC  OCEAN. 

VASCO  NUNEZ  de  Balboa  now  nattered  himself  that  he  had 
made  a  discovery  calculated  to  silence  all  his  enemies  at  court, 
and  to  elevate  him  to  the  highest  favour  with  his  sovereign. 
He  wrote  letters  to  the  king,  giving  a  detail  of  his  expedition, 
and  setting  forth  all  that  he  had  seen  or  heard  of  this  Southern 
Sea,  and  of  the  rich  countries  upon  its  borders.  Beside  the 
royal  fifths  of  the  profits  of  the  expedition,  he  prepared  a 
present  for  the  sovereign,  in  the  name  of  himself  and  his  com 
panions,  consisting  of  the  largest  and  most  precious  pearls 
they  had  collected.  As  a  trusty  and  intelligent  envoy  to  bear 
these  tidings,  he  chose  Pedro  de  Arbolancha,  an  old  and  tried 
friend,  who  had  accompanied  him  in  his  toils  and  dangers, 
and  was  well  acquainted  with  ah1  his  transactions. 


140  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

The  fate  of  Vasco  Nunez  furnishes  a  striking  instance 
prosperity  and  adversity,  how  even  life  and  death  hang  bal 
anced  upon  a  point  of  time,  and  are  affected  by  the  improve 
ment  or  neglect  of  moments.  Unfortunately,  the  ship  which 
was  to  convey  the  messenger  to  Spain  lingered  in  port  until 
the  beginning  of  March ;  a  delay  which  had  a  fatal  influence 
on  the  fortunes  of  Vasco  Nunez.  It  is  necessary  here  to  cast 
an  eye  back  upon  the  events  which  had  taken  place  in  Spain 
while  he  was  employed  in  his  conquests  and  discoveries. 

The  Bachelor  Enciso  had  arrived  in  Castile  full  of  his  wrongs 
and  indignities.  He  had  friends  at  court,  who  aided  him  in 
gaining  a  ready  hearing,  and  he  lost  not  a  moment  in  availing 
himself  of  it.  He  declaimed  eloquently  upon  the  alleged  usur 
pation  of  Vasco  Nunez,  and  represented  him  as  governing  the 
colony  by  force  and  fraud.  It  was  in  vain  that  the  Alcalde 
Zamudio,  the  ancient  colleague  and  the  envoy  of  Vasco  Nuiiez, 
attempted  to  speak  in  his  defence ;  he  was  unable  to  cope  with 
the  facts  and  arguments  of  the  Bachelor,  who  was  a  pleader 
by  profession,  and  now  pleaded  his  own  cause.  The  king  de 
termined  to  send  a  new  governor  to  Darien  with  power  to  in 
quire  into  and  remedy  all  abuses.  For  this  office  he  chose 
Don  Pedro  Arias  Davila,  commonly  called  Pedrarias.*  He 
was  a  native  of  Segovia,  who  had  been  brought  up  in  the  royal 
household,  .and  had  distinguished  himself  as  a  brave  soldier, 
both  in  the  war  in  Granada  and  at  the  taking  of  Oran  and 
Bugia  in  Africa.  He  possessed  those  personal  accomplish 
ments  which  captivate  the  soldiery,  and  was  called  el  Galan, 
for  his  gallant  array  and  courtly  demeanour,  and  el  Justador, 
or  the  Tilter,  for  his  dexterity  in  jousts  and  tournaments. 
These,  it  must  be  admitted,  were  not  the  qualifications  most 
adapted  for  the  government  of  rude  and  factious  colonies  in  a 
wilderness;  but  he  had  an  all-powerful  friend  in  the  Bishop 
Eonseca.  The  Bishop  was  as  thoroughgoing  in  patronage  as 
in  persecution.  He  assured  the  king  that  Pedrarias  had  un 
derstanding  equal  to  his  valour;  that  he  was  as  capable  of 
managing  the  affairs  of  peace  as  of  war,  and  that,  having  been 
brought  up  in  the  royal  household,  his  loyalty  might  be  im 
plicitly  relied  on. 

Scarcely  had  Don  Pedrarias  been  appointed,  when  Cayzedo 
and  Colmenares  arrived  on  their  mission  from  Darien,  to 
communicate  the  intelligence  received  from  the  son  of  the 

*  By  the  English  historians  he  has  generally  been  called  Davila. 


VASCO  NU&EZ  D&  BALBOA.  141 

cacique  Comagre,  of  the  Southern  Sea  beyond  the  mountains, 
and  to  ask  one  thousand  men  to  enable  Vasco  Nuiiez  to  make 
the  discovery. 

The  avarice  and  ambition  of  Ferdinand  were  inflamed  by 
the  tidings.  Ke  rewarded  the  bearers  of  the  intelligence,  and, 
after  consulting  with  Bishop  Fonseca,  resolved  to  despatch 
immediately  a  powerful  armada,  with  twelve  hundred  men, 
under  the  command  of  Pedrarias,  to  accomplish  the  enterprise. 

Just  about  this  time  the  famous  Gonsalvo  Hernandez  de 
Cordova,  commonly  called  the  Great  Captain,  was  preparing 
to  return  to  Naples,  where  the  allies  of  Spain  had  experienced 
a  signal  defeat,  and  had  craved  the  assistance  of  this  renowned 
general  to  retrieve  their  fortunes.  The  chivalry  of  Spain 
thronged  to  enlist  under  the  banner  of  Gonsalvo.  The  Span 
ish  nobles,  with  their  accustomed  prodigality,  sold  or  mort 
gaged  their  estates  to  buy  gorgeous  armour,  silks,  brocades, 
and  other  articles  of  martial  pomp  and  luxury,  that  they 
might  figure,  with  becoming  magnificence,  in  the  campaigns 
of  Italy.  The  armament  was  on  the  point  of  sailing  for 
Naples  with  this  host  of  proud  and  gallant  spirits,  when  the 
jealous  mind  of  Ferdinand  took  offence  at  the  enthusiasm  thus 
shown  towards  his  general,  and  he  abruptly  countermanded 
the  expedition.  The  Spanish  cavaliers  were  overwhelmed 
with  disappointment  at  having  their  dreams  of  glory  thus 
suddenly  dispelled ;  when,  as  if  to  console  them,  the  enterprise 
of  Pedrarias  was  set  on  foot,  and  opened  a  different  career  of 
adventure.  The  very  idea  of  an  unknown  sea  and  splendid 
empire,  where  never  European  ship  had  sailed  or  foot  had 
trodden,  broke  upon  the  imagination  with  the  vague  wonders 
of  an  Arabian  tale.  Even  the  countries  already  known,  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  seUfclement  of  Darien,  were  described  in  the 
usual  terms  of  exaggeration.  Gold  was  said  to  lie  on  the 
surface  of  the  ground,  or  to  be  gathered  with  nets  out  of 
the  brooks  and  rivers;  insomuch  that  the  region  hitherto 
called  Terra  Firma  now  received  the  pompous  and  delusive 
appellation  of  Castilla  del  Oro,  or  Golden  Castile. 

Excited  by  these  reports,  many  of  the  youthful  cavaliers, 
who  had  prepared  for  the  Italian  campaign,  now  offered 
themselves  as  volunteers  to  Don  Pedrarias.  He  accepted 
their  services,  and  appointed  Seville  as  the  place  of  assem 
blage.  The  streets  of  that  ancient  city  soon  swarmed  with 
young  and  noble  cavaliers  splendidly  arrayed,  full  of  spirits, 
and  eager  for  the  sailing  of  the  Indian  armada.  Pedrarias, 


SPANISH  VOYAGES  OP  DISCOVERY. 

on  his  arrival  at  Seville,  made  a  general  review  of  his  forces, 
and  was  embarrassed  to  find  that  the  number  amounted  to 
three  thousand.  He  had  been  limited  in  his  first  armament 
to  twelve  hundred;  on  representing  the  nature  of  the  case, 
however,  the  number  was  extended  to  fifteen  hundred;  but 
through  influence,  entreaty,  and  stratagem,  upwards  of  two 
thousand  eventually  embarked.*  Happy  did  he  think  him 
self  who  could  in  any  manner,  and  by  any  means,  get  ad 
mitted  on  board  of  the  squadron.  Nor  was  this  eagerness 
for  the  enterprise  confined  merely  to  young  and  buoyant 
and  ambitious  adventurers;  we  are  told  that  there  were 
ir  any  covetous  old  men,  who  offered  to  go  at  their  own 
expense,  without  seeking  any  pay  from  the  king.  Thus 
every  eye  was  turned  with  desire  to  this  squadron  of  mod 
ern  Argonauts,  .as  it  lay  anchored  on  the  bosom  of  the 
Guadalquiver. 

The  pay  and  appointments  of  Don  Pedrarias  Davila  were 
on  the  most  liberal  scale,  and  no  expense  was  spared  in  fit 
ting  out  the  armament ;  for  the  objects  of  the  expedition  were 
both  colonization  and  conquest.  Artillery  and  powder  were 
procured  from  Malaga.  Beside  the  usual  weapons,  such  as 
muskets,  cross-bows,  swords,  pikes,  lances,  and  Neapolitan 
targets,  there  was  armour  devised  of  quilted  cotton,  as  being 
light  and  better  adapted  to  the  climate,  and  sufficiently  proof 
against  the  weapons  of  the  Indians;  and  wooden  bucklers 
from  the  Canary  Islands,  to  ward  off  the  poisoned  arrows  of 
the  Caribs. 

Santa  Maria  de  la  Antigua  was,  by  royal  ordinance,  elevated 
into  the  metropolitan  city  of  Golden  Castile,  and  a  Franciscan 
friar,  named  Juan  de  Quevedo,  was  appointed  as  bishop,  with 
powers  to  decide  in  all  cases  of  conscience.  A  number  of 
friars  were  nominated  to  accompany  him,  and  he  was  pro 
vided  with  the  necessary  furniture  and  vessels  for  a  chapel. 

Among  the  various  regulations  made  for  the  good  of  the 
infant  colony,  it  was  ordained  that  no  lawyers  should  be 
admitted  there,  it  having  been  found  at  Hispaniola  and  else 
where,  that  they  were  detrimental  to  the  welfare  of  the  settle 
ments,  by  fomenting  disputes  and  litigations.  The  judicial 
affairs  were  to  be  entirely  confided  to  the  Licentiate  Gaspar 
de  Espinosa,  who  was  to  officiate  as  Alcalde  Mayor  or  chief 
judge. 

*  Oviedo,  1.  ii.,  c.  7,  MS. 


VASCO  NUftEZ  DE  BALBOA.  143 

Don  Pedrarias  had  intended  to  leave  his  wife  in  Spain.  Her 
name  was  Doiia  Isabella  de.Bobadilla;  she  was  niece  to  the 
Marchioness  de  Moya,  a  great  favourite  of  the  late  Queen 
Isabella,  who  had  been  instrumental  in  persuading  her  royal 
mistress  to  patronize  Columbus.*  Her  niece  partook  of  her 
high  and  generous  nature.  She  refused  to  remain  behind  in 
selfish  security,  but  declared  that  she  would  accompany  her 
husband  in  every  peril,  whether  by  sea  or  land.  This  self- 
devotion  is  the  more  remarkable  when  it  is  considered  that 
she  was  past  the  romantic  period  of  youth ;  and  that  she  had  a 
family  of  four  sons  and  four  daughters,  whom  she  left  behind 
her  in  Spain. 

Don  Pedrarias  was  instructed  to  use  great  indulgence 
towards  the  people  of  Darien,  who  had  been  the  followers  of 
Nicuesa,  and  to  remit  the  royal  tithe  of  all  the  gold  they  might 
have  collected  previous  to  his  arrival.  Towards  Vasco  Nunez 
de  Balboa  alone  the  royal  countenance  was  stern  and  severe. 
Pedrarias  was  to  depose  him  from  his  assumed  authority,  and 
to  call  him  to  strict  account  before  the  Alcalde  Mayor,  Gaspar 
de  Espinosa,  for  his  treatment  of  the  Bachelor  Enciso. 

The  splendid  fleet,  consisting  of  fifteen  sail,  weighed  anchor 
at  St.  Lucar  on  the  12th  of  April,  1514,  and  swept  proudly  out 
of  the  Guadalquiver,  thronged  with  the  chivalrous  adventurers 
for  Golden  Castile.  But  a  short  time  had  elapsed  after  its 
departure,  when  Pedro  Arbolancho  arrived  with  the  tardy 
missions  of  Vasco  Nunez.  Had  he  arrived  a  few  days  sooner, 
how  different  might  have  been  the  fortunes  of  his  friend ! 

He  was  immediately  admitted  to  the  royal  presence,  where 
he  announced  the  adventurous  and  successful  expedition  of 
Vasco  Nuiiez,  and  laid  before  the  king  the  pearls  and  golden 
ornaments  which  he  had  brought  as  the  first  fruits  of  the  dis 
covery.  King  Ferdinand  listened  with  charmed  attention  to 
this  tale  of  unknown  seas  and  wealthy  realms  added  to  his 
empire.  It  filled,  in  fact,  the  imaginations  of  the  most  sage 
and  learned  with  golden  dreams,  and  anticipations  of  un 
bounded  riches.  Old  Peter  Martyr,  who  received  letters 
from  his  friends  in  Darien,  and  communicated  by  word  of 
mouth  with  those  who  came  from  thence,  writes  to  Leo  the 
Tenth  in  exulting  terms  of  this  event.  "Spain,"  says  he, 


*  This  was  the  same  Marchioness  de  Moya,  who  during  the  war  of  Granada, 
while  the  court  and  royal  army  were  encamped  before  Malaga,  was  mistahen  for 
the  queen  by  a  Moorish  fanatic,  and  Lad  nearly  fallen  beneath  his  dagger. 


144  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

"will  hereafter  be  able  to  satisfy  with  pearls  the  greedy 
appetite  of  such  as  in  wanton  pleasures  are  like  unto  Cleo 
patra  and  ^Esopus ;  so  that  henceforth  we  shall  neither  envy 
nor  reverence  the  nice  fruitfulness  of  Trapoban  or  the  Eed 
Sea.  The  Spaniards  will  not  need  hereafter  to  mine  and  dig 
far  into  the  earth,  nor  to  cut  asunder  mountains  in  quest  of 
gold,  but  will  find  it  plentifully,  in  a  manner,  on  the  upper 
crust  of  the  earth,  or  in  the  sands  of  rivers  dried  up  by  the 
heats  of  summer.  Certainly  the  reverend  antiquity  obtained 
not  so  great  a  benefit  of  nature,  nor '  even  aspired  to  the  know 
ledge  thereof,  since  never  man  before,  from  the  known  world, 
penetrated  to  these  unknown  regions."  * 

The  tidings  of  this  discovery  at  once  made  all  Spain  resound 
with  the  praises  of  Vasco  Nunez ;  and  from  being  considered  a 
lawless  and  desperate  adventurer,  he  was  lauded  to  the  skies 
as  a  worthy  successor  to  Columbus.  The  king  repented  of 
the  harshness  of  his  late  measures  towards  him,  and  ordered 
the  Bishop  Foiiseca  to  devise  some  mode  of  rewarding  his 
transcendent  services. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

ARRIVAL    AND    GRAND    ENTRY    OF    DON  PEDRARIAS    DAVILA    INTO 

DARIEN. 

WHILE  honours  and  rewards  were  preparing  in  Europe  for 
Vasco  Nunez,  that  indefatigable  commander,  inspired  by  his 
fortunes,  with  redoubled  zeal  and  loftier  ambition,  was  exercis 
ing  the  paternal  forethought  and  discretion  of  a  patriotic 
governor  over  the  country  subjected  to  his  rule.  His  most 
strenuous  exertions  were  directed  to  bring  the  neighbourhood 
of  Darien  into  such  a  state  of  cultivation  as  might  render  the 
settlement  independent  of  Europe  for  supplies.  The  town  was 
situated  on  the  banks  of  a  river,  and  contained  upwards  of 
two  hundred  houses  and  cabins.  Its  population  amounted  to 
five  hundred  and  fifteen  Europeans,  all  men,  and  fifteen  hun 
dred  Indians,  male  and  female.  Orchards  and  gardens  had 
been  laid  out,  where  European  as  well  as  native  fruits  and 
vegetables  were  cultivated,  and  already  gave  promise  of  future 

*  P.  Martyr,  decad.  3>  chap.  iii.    Lok's  translation. 


VASGO  NUNEZ  DE  BALBOA.  145 

abundance.  Yasco  Nunez  devised  all  kinds  of  means  to  keep 
up  the  spirits  of  his  people.  On  holidays  they  had  their 
favourite  national  sports  and  games,  and  particularly  tilting 
matches,  of  which  chivalrous  amusement  the  Spaniards  in 
those  days  were  extravagantly  fond.  Sometimes  he  gratified 
their  restless  and  roving  habits  by  sending  them  on  expedi 
tions  to  various  parts  of  the  country,  to  acquire  a  knowledge 
of  its  resources,  and  to  strengthen  his  sway  over  the  natives. 
He  was  so  successful  in  securing  the  amity  or  exciting  the  awe 
of  the  Indian  tribes,  that  a  Spaniard  might  go  singly  about 
the  land  in  perfect  safety;  while  his  own  followers  were 
zealous  in  their  devotion  to  him,  both  from  admiration  of  his 
past  exploits  and  from  hopes  of  soon  being  led  by  him  to  new 
discoveries  and  conquests.  Peter  Martyr,  in  his  letter  to  Leo 
the  Tenth,  speaks  in  high  terms  of  these  ' '  old  soldiers  of 
Daricn,"  the  remnants  of  those  well-tried  adventurers  who  had 
followed  the  fortunes  of  Ojeda,  Nicuesa,  and  Vasco  Nunez. 
4 'They  were  hardened,"  says  he,  "to  abide  all  sorrows,  and 
were  exceedingly  tolerant  of  labour,  heat,  hunger,  and  watch 
ing,  insomuch  that  they  merrily  make  their  boast  that  they 
have  observed  a  longer  and  sharper  Lent  than  ever  your 
Holiness  enjoined,  since,  for  the  space  of  four  years,  their  food 
has  been  herbs  and  fruits,  with  now  and  then  fish,  and  very 
seldom  flesh."* 

Such  were  the  hardy  and  well-seasoned  veterans  that  were 
under  the  sway  of  Vasco  Nunez ;  and  the  colony  gave  signs  of 
rising  in  prosperity  under  his  active  and  fostering  manage 
ment,  when  in  the  month  of  June  the  fleet  of  Don  Pedrarias 
Davila  arrived  in  the  Gulf  of  Uraba. 

The  Spanish  cavaliers  who  accompanied  the  new  governor 
were  eager  to  get  on  shore,  and  to  behold  the  anticipated 
wonders  of  the  land;  but  Pedrarias,  knowing  the  resolute 
character  of  Vasco  Nunez,  and  the  devotion  of  his  followers, 
apprehended  some  difficulty  in  getting  possession  of  the  colony. 
Anchoring,  therefore,  about  a  league  and  a  half  from  the  settle 
ment,  he  sent  a  messenger  on  shore  to  announce  his  arrival. 
The  envoy,  having  heard  so  much  in  Spain  of  the  prowess  and 
exploits  of  Vasco  Nunez  and  the  riches  of  Golden  Castile, 
expected,  no  doubt,  to  find  a  blustering  warrior,  maintaining 
barbaric  state  in  the  government  which  he  had  usurped. 
Great  was  his  astonishment,  therefore,  to  find  this  redoubta- 

*  P.  Martyr,  decad.  3,  c.  iii.    Lok's  translation. 


146  SPANISH    VOYAGKS  OF  DISCOVERT. 

ble  hero  a  plain,  unassuming  man,  clad  in  a  cotton  frock  and 
drawers,  and  hempen  sandals,  directing  and  aiding  the  labour 
of  several  Indians  who  were  thatching  a  cottage  in  which  he 
resided. 

The  messenger  approached  him  respectfully,  and  announced 
the  arrival  of  Don  Pedrarias  Davila  as  governor  of  the  country. 

Whatever  Vasco  Nunez  may  have  felt  at  this  intelligence, 
he  suppressed  his  emotions,  and  answered  the  messenger  with 
great  discretion :  "Tell  Don  Pedrarias  Davila, "  said  he,  "that 
he  is  welcome,,  that  1  congratulate  him  on  his  safe  arrival,  and 
am  ready,  with  all  who  are  here,  to  obey  his  orders." 

The  little  community  of  rough  and  daring  adventurers  was 
immediately  in  an  uproar  when  they  found  a  new  governor 
had  arrived.  Some  of  the  most  zealous  adherents  of  Vasco 
Nuiiez  were  disposed  to  sally  forth,  sword  in  hand,  and  repel 
the  intruder ;  but  they  were  restrained  by  their  more  consider 
ate  chieftain,  who  prepared  to  receive  the  new  governor  with 
all  due  submission. 

Pedrarias  disembarked  on  the  thirtieth  of  June,  accom 
panied  by  his  heroic  wife,  Dona  Isabella;  who,  according  to  old 
Peter  Martyr,  had  sustained  the  roarings  and  rages  of  the 
ocean  with  no  less  stout  courage  than  either  her  husband  or 
even  the  mariners  who  had  been  brought  up  among  the  surges 
of  the  sea. 

Pedrarias  set  out  for  the  embryo  city  at  the  head  of  two 
thousand  men,  all  well  armed.  He  led  his  wife  by  the  hand, 
and  on  the  other  side  of  him  was  the  bishop  of  Darien  in  his 
robes;  while  a  brilliant  train  of  youthful  cavaliers,  in  glittering 
armour  and  brocade,  formed  a  kind  of  body-guard. 

All  this  pomp  and  splendour  formed  a  striking  contrast  with 
the  humble  state  of  Vasco  Nuiiez,  who  came  forth  unarmed, 
in  simple  attire,  accompanied  by  his  councillors  and  a  handful 
of  the  "old  soldiers  of  Darien,"  scarred  and  battered,  and 
grown  half  wild  in  Indian  warfare,  but  without  weapons,  and 
in  garments  much  the  worse  for  wear, 

Vasco  Nunez  saluted  Don  Pedrarias  Davila  with  profound 
reverence,  and  promised  him  implicit  obedience,  both  in  his 
own  name  and  in  the  name  of  the  community.  Having  en 
tered  the  town,  he  conducted  his  distinguished  guests  to  his 
straw-thatched  habitation,  where  he  had  caused  a  repast  to  be 
prepared  of  such  cheer  as  his  means  afforded,  consisting  of 
roots  and  fruits,  maize  and  casava  bread,  with  no  other  bever 
age  than  water  from  the  river;  a  sorry  palace  and  a  meagre 


VASCO  A'US'ti/  DE  KALUGA.  147 

banquet  in  the  eyes  of  the  gay  cavaliers,  who  had  anticipated 
far  other  things  from  the  usurper  of  Golden  Castile.  Vasco 
Nunez,  however,  acquitted  himself  in  his  humble  wigwam 
with  the  courtesy  and  hospitality  of  a  prince,  and  showed  that 
the  dignity  of  an  entertainment  depends  more  upon  the  giver 
than  the  feast.  In  the  meantime  a  plentiful  supply  of  European 
provisions  was  landed  from  the  fleet,  and  a  temporary  abund 
ance  was  diffused  through  the  colony. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

PERFIDIOUS  CONDUCT   OF  DON   PEDRARIAS  TOWARDS  VASCO 

NUNEZ. 

ON  the  day  after  his  entrance  into  Darien,  Don  Pedrarias 
held  a  private  conference  with  Vasco  Nuiiez  in  presence  of  the 
historian  Oviedo,  who  had  come  out  from  Spain  as  the  public 
notary  of  the  colony.  The  governor  commenced  by  assuring: 
him  that  he  was  instructed  by  the  king  to  treat  him  with  great 
favour  and  distinction,  to  consult  him  about  the  affairs  of  the 
colony,  and  to  apply  to  him  for  information  relative  to  the 
surrounding  country.  At  the  same  time  he  professed  the  most 
amicable  feelings  on  his  own  part,  and  an  intention  to  be 
guided  by  his  counsels  in  all  public  measures. 

Vasco  Nuiiez  was  of  a  frank,  confiding  nature,  and  was  so 
captivated  by  this  unexpected  courtesy  and  kindness,  that  he 
threw  off  all  caution  and  reserve,  and  opened  his  whole  soul  to 
the  politic  courtier.  Pedrarias  availed  himself  of  this  com 
municative  mood  to  draw  from  him  a  minute  and  able  state 
ment  in  writing,  detailing  the  circumstances  of  the  colony,  and 
the  information  collected  respecting  various  parts  of  the  coun 
try  ;  the  route  by  which  he  had  traversed  the  mountains ;  his 
discovery  of  the  South  Sea;  the  situation  and  reputed  wealth 
of  the  Pearl  Islands ;  the  rivers  and  ravines  most  productive  of 
gold ;  together  with  the  names  and  territories  of  the  various 
caciques  with  whom  he  had  made  treaties. 

When  Pedrarias  had  thus  beguiled  the  unsuspecting  soldier 
of  all  the  information  necessary  for  his  purposes,  he  dropped 
the  mask,  and  within  a  few  days  proclaimed  a  judicial  scrutiny 
into  the  conduct  of  Vasco  Nuiiez  and  his  officers.  It  was  to 


1 48  Sl'AXISll    VO  YA  G  ES  OF  DISCO  VEll  Y. 

be  conducted  by  the  Licentiate  Gaspar  de  Espinosa,  who  had 
come  out  as  Alcalde  Mayor,  or  chief  judge.  The  Licentiate  was 
an  inexperienced  lawyer,  having  but  recently  left  the  univer 
sity  of  Salamanca.  He  appears  to  have  been  somewhat  flexi 
ble  in  his  opinions,  and  prone  to  be  guided  or  governed  by 
others.  At  the  outset  of  his  career  he  was  much  under  the 
influence  of  Quevedo,  the  Bishop  of  Darien.  Now,  as  Vasco 
Nunez  knew  the  importance  of  this  prelate  in  the  colony,  he 
had  taken  care  to  secure  him  to  his  interests  by  paying  him 
the  most  profound  deference  and  respect,  and  by  giving  him  a 
share  in  his  agricultural  enterprises  and  his  schemes  of  traffic. 
In  fact,  the  good  bishop  looked  upon  him  as  one  eminently  cal 
culated  to  promote  his  temporal  prosperity,  to  which  he  was 
by  no  means  insensible.  Under  the  influence  of  the  prelate, 
therefore,  the  Alcalde  commenced  his  investigation  in  the  most 
favourable  manner.  He  went  largely  into  an  examination 
of  the  discoveries  of  Vasco  Nunez,  and  of  the  nature  and 
extent  of  his  various  services.  The  governor  was  alarmed  at 
the  course  which  the  inquiry  wTas  taking.  If  thus  conducted, 
it  would  but  serve  to  illustrate  the  merits  and  elevate  the  repu 
tation  of  the  man  whom  it  was  his  interest  and  intent  to  ruin. 
To  counteract  it  he  immediately  set  on  foot  a  secret  and  invid 
ious  course  of  interrogatories  of  the  followers  of  Nicuesa  and 
Ojeda,  to  draw  from  them  testimony  which  might  support  the 
charge  against  Vasco  Nunez  of  usurpation  and  tyrannical  abuse 
of  power.  The  bishop  and  the  Alcalde  received  information  of 
this  inquisition,  carried  on  thus  secretly,  and  without  their 
sanction.  They  remonstrated  warmly  against  it,  as  an  infringe 
ment  of  their  rights,  being  coadjutors  in  the  government;  and 
they  spurned  the  testimony  of  the  followers  of  Ojeda  and 
Nicuesa,  as  being  dictated  and  discoloured  by  ancient  enmity. 
Vasco  Nuiiez  was,  therefore,  acquitted  by  them  of  the  crimi 
nal  charges  made  against  him,  though  he  remained  involved  in 
difficulties  from  the  suits  brought  against  him  by  individuals, 
for  losses  and  damages  occasioned  by  his  measures. 

Pedrarias  was  incensed  at  this  acquittal,  and  insisted  upon 
the  guilt  of  Vasco  Nuiiez,  which  he  pretended  to  have  estab 
lished  to  his  conviction  by  his  secret  investigations ;  and  he 
even  determined  to  send  him  in  chains  to  Spain,  to  be  tried  for 
the  death  of  Nicuesa,  and  for  other  imputed  offences. 

It  was  not  the  inclination  or  the  interest  of  the  bishop  that 
Vasco  Nunez  should  leave  the  colony ;  he  therefore  managed 
to  awaken  the  jealous  apprehensions  of  the  governor  as  to  the 


VA8CO  NUffEZ  DE  BALBOA.  149 

effect  of  his  proposed  measure.  He  intimated  that  the  arrival 
of  Vasco  Nunez  in  Spain  would  be  signalized  by  triumph 
rather  than  disgrace.  By  that  time  his  grand  discoveries 
would  be  blazoned  to  the  world,  and  would  atone  for  all  his 
faults.  He  would  be  received  with  enthusiasm  by  the  nation, 
with  favour  by  the  king,  and  would  probably  be  sent  back  to 
the  colony  clothed  with  new  dignity  and  power. 

Pedrarias  was  placed  in  a  perplexing  dilemma  by  these  sug 
gestions;  his  violent  proceedings  against  Vasco  Nunez  were 
also  in  some  measure  restrained  by  the  influence  of  his  wife, 
Dona  Isabel  de  Bobadilla,  who  felt  a  great  respect  and  sympathy 
for  the  discoverer.  In  his  perplexity,  the  wily  governor 
adopted  a  middle  course.  He  resolved  to  detain  Vasco  Nunez 
at  Darien  under  a  cloud  of  imputation,  which  would  gradually 
impair  his  popularity ;  while  his  patience  and  means  would  be 
silently  consumed  by  protracted  and  expensive  litigation.  In 
the  mean  time,  however,  the  property  which  had  been  seques 
trated  was  restored  to  him. 

While  Pedrarias  treated  Vasco  Nuiiez  with  this  severity,  he 
failed  not  to  avail  himself  of  the  plans  of  that  able  commander. 
The  first  of  these  was  to  establish  a  line  of  posts  across  the 
mountains  between  Darien  and  the  South  Sea.  It  was  his 
eager  desire  to  execute  this  before  any  order  should  arrive 
from  the  king  in  favour  of  his  predecessor,  in  order  that  he 
might  have  the  credit  of  having  colonized  the  coast,  and  Vasco 
Nunez  merely  that  of  having  discovered  and  visited  it.* 
Before  he  could  complete  these  arrangements,  however, 
unlooked-for  calamities  fell  upon  the  settlement,  that  for  a 
time  interrupted  every  project,  and  made  every  one  turn  his 
thoughts  merely  to  his  own  security. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

CALAMITIES  OP  THE  SPANISH  CAVALIERS  AT  DARIEN. 

THE  town  of  Darien  was  situated  in  a  deep  valley  surrounded 
by  lofty  hills,  which,  while  they  kept  off  the  breezes  so  grate 
ful  in  a  sultry  climate,  reflected  and  concentrated  the  rays  of 
the  sun,  insomuch  that  at  noontide  the  heat  was  insupportable ; 

*  Oviedo,  Hist.  Ind.,  p.  2,  c.  8. 


150  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

the  river  which  passed  it  was  shallow,  with  a  muddy  channel 
and  bordered  by  marshes ;  overhanging  forests  added  to  the 
general  humidity,  and  the  very  soil  on  which  the  town  was 
built  was  of  such  a  nature,  that  on  digging  to  the  depth  of  a 
foot  there  would  ooze  forth  brackish  water.* 

It  is  not  matter  of  surprise  that  a  situation  of  this  kind,  in  a 
tropical  climate,  should  be  fatal  to  the  health  of  Europeans. 
Many  of  those  who  had  recently  arrived  were  swept  off 
speedily;  Pedrarias  himself  fell  sick  and  was  removed,  with 
most  of  his  people,  to  a  healthier  spot  on  the  river  Corobari ; 
the  malady,  however,  continued  to  increase.  The  provisions 
which  had  been  brought  out  in  the  ships  had  been  partly  dam 
aged  by  the  sea,  the  residue  grew  scanty,  and  the  people  were 
put  upon  short  allowance ;  the  debility  thus  produced  increased 
the  ravages  of  the  disease ;  at  length  the  provisions  were  ex 
hausted  and  the  horrors  of  absolute  famine  ensued. 

Every  one  was  more  or  less  affected  by  these  calamities; 
even  the  veterans  of  the  colony  quailed  beneath  them ;  but  to 
none  were  they  more  fatal  than  to  the  crowd  of  youthful  cava 
liers  who  had  once  glittered  so  gaily  about  the  streets  of 
Seville,  and  had  come  out  to  the  new  world  elated  with  the 
most  sanguine  expectations.  From  the  very  moment  of  their 
landing  they  had  been  disheartened  at  the  savage  scenes 
around  them,  and  disgusted  with  the  squalid  life  they  were 
doomed  to  lead.  They  shrunk  with  disdain  from  the  labours 
with  which  alone-wealth  was  to  be  procured  in  this  land  of 
gold  and  pearls,  and  were  impatient  of  the  humble  exertions 
necessary  for  the  maintenance  of  existence.  As  the  famine 
increased,  their  case  became  desperate ;  for  they  were  unable 
to  help  themselves,  and  their  rank  and  dignity  commanded 
neither  deference  nor  aid  at  a  time  when  common  misery 
made  every  one  selfish.  Many  of  them,  who  had  mortgaged 
estates  in  Spain  to  fit  themselves  out  sumptuously  for  their 
Italian  campaign,  now  perished  for  lack  of  food.  Some  would 
be  seen  bartering  a  robe  of  crimson  silk,  or  some  garment  ot 
rich  brocade,  for  a  pound  of  Indian  bread  or  European  biscuit ; 
others  sought  to  satisfy  the  cravings  of  hunger  with  the  herbs 
and  roots  of  the  field,  and  one  of  the  principal  cavaliers  abso 
lutely  expired  of  hunger  in  the  public  streets. 

In  this  wretched  way,  and  in  the  short  space  of  one  month, 
perished  seven  hundred  of  the  little  army  of  youthful  and 

*  P.  Martyr,  decad.  3,  c.  vi. 


VASCO  NUfiKZ  DK  BALBOA.  151 

buoyant  spirits  who  had  embarked  with  Pedrarias.  Tho 
bodies  of  some  remained  for  a  day  or  two  without  sepulture, 
their  friends  not  having  sufficient  strength  to  bury  them. 
Unable  to  remedy  the  evil,  Pedrarias  gave  permission  for  his 
men  to  flee  from  it.  A  ship-load  of  starving  adventurers 
departed  for  Cuba,  where  some  of  them  joined  the  standard  of 
Diego  Velasquez,  who  was  colonizing  that  island ;  others  made 
their  way  back  to  Spain,  where  they  arrived  broken  in  health, 
in  spirits,  arid  in  fortune. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

FRUITLESS  EXPEDITION  OF  PEDRARIAS. 

THE  departure  of  so  many  hungry  mouths  was  some  tem 
porary  relief  to  the  colony ;  and  Pedrarias,  having  recovered 
from  his  malady,  bestirred  himself  to  send  expeditions  in  vari 
ous  directions  for  the  purpose  of  foraging  the  country  and 
collecting  the  treasure. 

These  expeditions,  however,  were  entrusted  to  his  own 
favourites  a*id  partisans;  while  Vasco  Nunez,  the  man  most 
competent  to  carry  them  into  effect,  remained  idle  and  neg 
lected.  A  judicial  inquiry,  tardily  carried  on,  overshadowed 
him,  and  though  it  substantiated  nothing,  served  to  embarrass 
his  actions,  to  cool  his  friends,  and  to  give  him  the  air  of  a 
public  delinquent.  Indeed,  to  the  other  evils  of  the  colony  was 
now  added  that  of  excessive  litigation,  arising  out  of  the  dis 
putes  concerning  the  government  of  Vasco  Nufiez,  and  which 
increased  to  such  a  degree,  that  according  to  the  report  of  the 
Alcalde  Espinosa,  if  the  law-suits  should  be  divided  among  the 
people,  at  least  forty  would  fall  to  each  man's  share.*  This 
too  was  in  a  colony  into  which  the  government  had  com 
manded  that  no  lawyer  should  be  admitted. 

Wearied  and  irritated  by  the  check  which  had  been  given  to 
his  favourite  enterprises,  and  confident  of  the  ultimate  appro 
bation  of  the  king,  Vasco  Nunez  now  determined  to  take  his 
fortunes  in  his  own  hands,  and  to  prosecute  in  secret  his  grand 
project  of  exploring  the  regions  beyond  the  mountains.  For 

*  Herrera,  detad.  2, 1.  i.  c.  I. 


152  SPANISH   VOYAGES  OF  DLSCOVKliY. 

this  purpose  he  privately  despatched  one  Andres  Garabito  to 
Cuba  to  enlist  men,  and  to  make  the  requisite  provisions  for  an 
expedition  across  the  isthmus,  from  Nombre  de  Dios,  and  for 
the  founding  a  colony  on  the  shores  of  the  Southern  Ocean, 
from  whence  he  proposed  to  extend  his  discoveries  by  sea  and 
land. 

While  Vasco  Nunez  awaited  the  return  of  Garabito,  he  had 
the  mortification  of  beholding  various  of  his  colonizing  plans 
pursued  and  marred  by  Pedrarias.  Among  other  enterprises, 
the  governor  despatched  his  lieutenant-general,  Juan  de 
Ayora,  at  the  head  of  four  hundred  men,  to  visit  the  provinces 
of  those  caciques  with  whom  Vasco  Nunez  had  sojourned  and 
made  treaties  on  his  expedition  to  the  Southern  Sea.  Ayora 
partook  of  the  rash  and  domineering  spirit  of  Pedrarias,  and 
harassed  and  devastated  the  countries  which  be  pretended  to 
explore.  He  was  received  with  amity  and  confidence  by  vari 
ous  caciques  who  had  formed  treaties  with  Vasco  Nunez;  but 
he  repaid  their  hospitality  with  the  basest  ingratitude,  seizing 
upon  their  property,  taking  from  them  their  wives  and 
daughters,  and  often  torturing  them  to  make  them  reveal  their 
hidden  or  supposed  treasures.  Among  those  treated  with  this 
perfidy,  we  grieve  to  enumerate  the  youthful  cacique  who  first 
gave  Vasco  Nunez  information  of  the  sea  beyond  the  moun 
tains. 

The  enormities  of  Ayora  and  of  other  captains  of  Pedrarias 
produced  the  usual  effect ;  the  natives  were  roused  to  desper 
ate  resistance;  caciques  who  had  been  faithful  friends,  were 
converted  into  furious  enemies,  and  the  expedition  ended  in 
disappointment  and  disaster. 

The  adherents  of  Vasco  Nunez  did  not  fail  to  contrast  these 
disastrous  enterprises  with  those  which  had  been  conducted 
with  so  much  glory  and  advantage  by  their  favourite  com 
mander  ;  and  their  sneers  and  reproaches  had  such  an  effect 
upon  the  jealous  and  irritable  disposition  of  Pedrarias,  that  he 
determined  to  en  ploy  their  idol  in  a  service  that  would  be 
likely  to  be  attended  with  defeat  and  to  impair  his  popularity. 
None  seemed  more  fitting  for  the  purpose  than  an  expedition 
to  Dotayba,  where  he  had  once  already  attempted  in  vain  to* 
penetrate,  and  where  so  many  of  his  followers  had  fallen  vic< 
tims  to  the  stratagems  and  assaults  of  the  natives. 


VASCO  NUREZ  DE  BALBOA.  153 


CHAPTER  XX. 

SECOND    EXPEDITION    OF  VASCO    NUNEZ    IN    QUEST  OF  THE    GOLD 
TEMPLE  OF  DOBAYBA. 

THE  rich  mines  of  Dobayba  and  the  treasures  of  its  golden 
temple  had  continued  to  form  a  favourite  theme  with  the 
Spanish  adventurers.  It  was  ascertained  that  Vasco  Nunez 
had  stopped  short  of  the  wealthy  region  on  his  former  expedi 
tion,  and  had  mistaken  a  frontier  village  for  the  residence  of 
the  cacique.  The  enterprise  of  the  temple  was  therefore  still 
to  be  achieved ;  and  it  was  solicited  by  several  of  the  cavaliers 
in  the  train  of  Pedrarias  with  all  the  chivalrous  ardour  of  that 
romantic  age.  Indeed,  common  report  had  invested  the  enter 
prise  with  difficulties  and  danger  sufficient  to  stimulate  the  am 
bition  of  the  keenest  seeker  of  adventure.  The  savagesxwho 
inhabited  that  part  of  the  country  were  courageous  and  adroit. 
They  fought  by  water  as  well  as  by  land,  forming  ambuscades 
with  their  canoes  in  the  bays  and  rivers.  The  country  was 
intersected  by  dreary  fens  and  morasses,  infested  by  all  kinds 
of  reptiles.  Clouds  of  gnats  and  musquitoes  filled  the  air; 
there  were  large  bats  also,  supposed  to  have  the  baneful  prop 
erties  of  the  vampire ;  alligators  lurked  in  the  waters,  and  the 
gloomy  recesses  of  the  fens  were  said  to  be  the  dens  of  dra 
gons  !  * 

Besides  these  objects  of  terror,  both  true  and  fabulous,  the 
old  historian,  Peter  Martyr,  makes  mention  of  another  mon 
strous  animal  said  to  infest  this  golden  region,  and  which 
deserves  to  be  cited,  as  showing  the  imaginary  dangers  with 
which  the  active  minds  of  the  discoverers  peopled  the  unex 
plored  wilderness  around  them. 

According  to  the  tales  of  the  Indians,  there  had  occurred 
shortly  before  the  arrival  of  the  Spaniards  a  violent  tempest, 
or  rather  hurricane,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Dobayba,  which 
demolished  houses,  tore  up  trees  by  the  roots,  and  laid  waste 
whole  forests.  When  the  tempest  had  subsided,  and  the  af 
frighted  inhabitants  ventured  to  look  abroad,  they  found  that 
two  monstrous  animals  had  been  brought  into  the  country  by 
the  hurricane.  According  to  their  accounts,  they  were  not 

*  P,  Martyr, 


154  SPANISH    VOYAGL'S  OF  DISCOVERT. 

Unlike  the  ancient  harpies,  and  one  being  smaller  than  the 
other  was  supposed  to  be  its  young.  They  had  the  faces  of 
women,  with  the  claws  and  wings  of  eagles,  and  were  of  such 
prodigious  size  that  the  very  boughs  of  the  trees  on  which  they 
alighted  broke  beneath  them.  They  would  swoop  down  and 
carry  off  a  man  as  a  hawk  would  bear  off  a  chicken,  flying 
with  him  to  the  tops  of  the  mountains,  where  they  would  tear 
him  in  pieces  and  devour  him.  For  some  time  they  were  the 
scourge  and  terror  of  the  land,  until  the  Indians  succeeded  in 
killing  the  old  one  by  stratagem,  and  hanging  her  on  their  long 
spears,  bore  her  through  all  the  towns  to  assuage  the  alarm  of 
the  inhabitants.  The  younger  harpy,  says  the  Indian  tradi 
tion,  was  never  seen  afterwards.* 

Such  were  some  of  the  perils,  true  and  fabulous,  with  which 
the  land  of  Dobayba  was  said  to  abound ;  and,  in  fact,  the  very 
Indians  had  such  a  dread  of  its  dark  and  dismal  morasses, 
that  in  their  journeyings  they  carefully  avoided  them,  prefer 
ring  the  circuitous  and  rugged  paths  of  the  mountains. 

Several  of  the  youthful  cavaliers,  as  has  been  observed,  were 
stimulated,  rather  than  deterred,  by  these  dangers,  and  con 
tended  for  the  honour  of  the  expedition ;  but  Pedrarias  selected 
his  rival  for  the  task,  hoping,  as  has  been  hinted,  that  it  would 
involve  him  in  disgrace.  Vasco  Nuiiez  promptly  accepted  the 
enterprise,  for  his  pride  was  concerned  in  its  success.  Two 
hundred  resolute  men  were  given  to  him  for  the  purpose ;  but 
his  satisfaction  was  diminished  when  he  found  that  Luis  Car- 
rillo,  an  officer  of  Pedrarias,  who  had  failed  in  a  perilous 
enterprise,  was  associated  with  him  in  the  command. 

Few  particulars  remain  to  us  of  the  events  of  this  affair. 
They  embarked  in  a  fleet  of  canoes,  and,  traversing  the  gulf, 
arrived  at  the  river  which  flowed  down  from  the  region  of 
Dobayba.  They  were  not  destined,  however,  to  achieve  the 
enterprise  of  the  golden  temple.  As  they  were  proceeding 
rather  confidently  and  unguardedly  up  the  river,  they  were 
suddenly  surprised  and  surrounded  by  an  immense  swarm  of 
canoes,  filled  with  armed  savages,  which  darted  out  from  lurk 
ing  places  along  the  shores.  Some  of  the  Indians  assailed  them 
with  lances,  others  with  clouds  of  arrows,  while  some,  plung 
ing  into  the  water,  endeavoured  to  overturn  their  canoes.  In 
this  way  one-half  of  the  Spaniards  were  killed  or  drowned. 
Among  the  number  fell  Luis  Carrillo,  pierced  through  tho 

*  JP,  Martyr,  decad,  7,  c,  10, 


VASCO  NU&EZ  DE  BALBOA.  155 

breast  by  an  Indian  lance.  Vasco  Nuiiez  himself  was  wound 
ed,  and  had  great  difficulty  in  escaping  to  the  shore  with  the 
~esidue  of  his  forces. 

The  Indians  pursued  him  and  kept  up  a  skirmishing  attack, 
but  he  beat  them  off  until  the  night,  when  he  silently  aban 
doned  the  shore  of  the  river,  and  directed  his  retreat  towards 
Darien.  It  is  easier  to  imagine  than  to  describe  the  toils  and 
dangers  and  horrors  which  beset  him  and  the  remnant  of  his 
men,  as  they  traversed  rugged  mountains  or  struggled  through 
these  fearful  morasses,  of  which  they  had  heard  such  terrific 
tales.  At  length  they  succeeded  in  reaching  the  settlement  of 
Darien. 

The  partisans  of  Pedrarias  exulted  in  seeing  Vasco  Nuilez 
returned  thus  foiled  and  wounded,  and  taunted  his  adherents 
with  their  previous  boastings.  The  latter,  however,  laid  ail 
the  blame  upon  the  unfortunate  Carrillo.  "Vasco  Nuiiez," 
said  they,  "  had  always  absolute  command  in  his  former  enter 
prises,  but  in  this  he  has  been  embarrassed  by  an  associate. 
Had  the  expedition  been  confided  to  him  alone,  the  event  had 
been  far  different." 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

LETTERS  FROM  THE  KING  IN  FAVOUR  OF  VASCO   NUNEZ— ARRIVAL 
OF  GARABITO— ARREST  OF  VASCO  NUNEZ.— (1515.) 

ABOUT  this  time  despatches  arrived  from  Spain  that  promised 
to  give  a  new  turn  to  the  fortunes  of  Vasco  Nunez  and  to  the 
general  affairs  of  the  colony.  They  were  written  after  the 
tidings  of  the  discovery  of  the  South  Sea,  and  the  subjugation 
of  so  many  important  provinces  of  the  Isthmus.  In  a  letter 
addressed  to  Vasco  Nuiiez,  the  king  expressed  his  high  sense 
of  his  merits  and  services,  and  constituted  him  Adelantado 
of  the  South  Sea,  and  Governor  of  the  provinces  of  Panama 
and  Coyba,  though  subordinate  to  the  general  command  of  Pe 
drarias.  A  letter  was  likewise  written  by  the  king  to  Pe 
drarias,  informing  him  of  this  appointment,  and  ordering  him 
to  consult  Vasco  Nuiiez  on  all  public  affairs  of  importance. 
This  was  a  humiliating  blow  to  the  pride  and  consequence  of 
Pedrarias,  but  he  hoped  to  parry  it.  In  the  mean  time,  as  all 
•8  from  Spain  were  first  delivered  into  his  hands,  he  with- 


156  SPANISH   VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

held  that  intended  for  Vasco  Nuiiez,  until  he  should  deter 
mine  what  course  of  conduct  to  adopt.  The  latter,  however, 
heard  of  the  circumstance,  as  did  his  friend  the  Bishop  of 
Darien.  The  prelate  made  loud  complaints  of  this  interrup 
tion  of  the  royal  correspondence,  which  he  denounced,  even 
from  the  pulpit,  as  an  outrage  upon  the  rights  of  the  subject, 
and  an  act  of  disobedience  to  the  sovereign. 

Upon  this  the  governor  called  a  council  of  his  public  officers ; 
and,  after  imparting  the  contents  of  his  letter,  requested  their 
opinion  as  to  the  propriety  of  investing  Vasco  Nuiiez  with 
the  dignities  thus  granted  to  him.  The  Alcalde  Mayor,  Espi- 
nosa,  had  left  the  party  of  the  bishop,  and  was  now  devoted  to 
the  governor.  He  insisted,  vehemently,  that  the  offices  ought 
in  no  wise  to  be  given  to  Vasco  Nuiiez,  until  the  king  should 
be  informed  of  the  result  of  the  inquest  which  was  still  going 
on  against  him.  In  this  he  was  warmly  supported  by  the 
treasurer  and  the  accountant.  The  bishop  replied,  indig 
nantly,  that  it  was  presumptuous  and  disloyal  in  them  to 
dispute  the  commands  of  the  king,  and  to  interfere  with  the 
rewards  conscientiously  given  by  him  to  a  meritorious  subject. 
In  this  way,  he  added,  they  were  defeating,  by  their  pas 
sions,  the  grateful  intentions  of  their  sovereign.  The  governor 
was  overawed  by  the  honest  warmth  of  the  bishop,  and  pro 
fessed  to  accord  with  him  in  opinion.  The  council  lasted  until 
midnight ;  and  it  was  finally  agreed  that  the  titles  and  digni 
ties  should  be  conferred  on  Vasco  Nunez  on  the  following 
day.* 

Pedrarias  and  his  officers  reflected,  however,  that  if  the 
jurisdiction  implied  by  these  titles  were  absolutely  vested  in 
Vasco  Nuiiez,  the  government  of  Darien  and  Castilla  del  Oro 
would  virtually  be  reduced  to  a  trifling  matter ;  they  resolved, 
therefore,  to  adopt  a  middle  course ;  to  grant  him  the  empty 
titles,  but  to  make  him  give  security  not  to  enter  upon  the 
actual  government  of  the  territories  in  question,  until  Pe 
drarias  should  give  him  permission.  The  bishop  and  Vasco 
Nuiicz  assented  to  this  arrangement ;  satisfied,  for  the  present, 
with  securing  the  titles,  and  trusting  to  the  course  of  events  to 
get  dominion  over  the  territories.! 


*  Oviedo,  pjvrt  2,  c.  9,  MS.  Oviedo,  the  historian,  was  present  at  this  consultation, 
and  says  that  he  wrote  down  the  opinions  given  «n  the  occasion,  which  the  parties 
signed  with  their  proper  hands. 

t  Oviedo,  part  2,  c.  9,  MS. 


VASCO  NU&EZ  DE  BALBOA.  157 

The  new  honours  of  Vasco  Nunez  were  now  promulgated  to 
the  world,  and  he  was  every  where  addressed  by  the  title  of 
Adelantado.  His  old  friends  lifted  up  their  heads  with  exulta 
tion,  and  new  adherents  nocked  to  his  standard.  Parties  be 
gan  to  form  for  him  and  for  Pedrarias,  for  it  was  deemed  im 
possible  they  could  continue  long  in  harmony. 

The  jealousy  of  the  governor  was  excited  by  these  circum 
stances  ;  and  he  regarded  the  newly  created  Adelantado  as  a 
dangerous  rival  and  an  insidious  foe.  Just  at  this  critical  junc 
ture,  Andres  Garabito,  the  agent  of  Vasco  Nunez,  arrived  on 
the  coast  in  a  vessel  which  he  had  procured  at  Cuba,  and  had 
freighted  with  arms  and  ammunition,  and  seventy  resolute 
men,  for  the  secret  expedition  to  the  shores  of  the  Pacific 
Ocean.  He  anchored  six  leagues  from  the  harbour,  and  sent 
word  privately  to  Vasco  Nunes  of  his  arrival. 

Information  was  immediately  carried  to  Pedrarias,  that  a 
mysterious  vessel,  full  of  armed  men,  was  hovering  011  the 
coast,  and  holding  secret  communication^ with  his  rival.  The 
suspicious  temper  of  the  governor  immediately  took  the  alarm. 
He  fancied  some  treasonable  plot  against  his  authority;  his 
passions  mingled  with  his  fears ;  and,  in  the  first  burst  of  his 
fury,  he  ordered  that  Vasco  Nunez  should  be  seized  and  con 
fined  in  a  wooden  cage.  The  Bishop  of  Darien  interposed  in 
time  to  prevent  an  indignity  which  it  might  have  been  im 
possible  to  expiate.  He  prevailed  upon  the  passionate  gover 
nor,  not  merely  to  retract  the  order  respecting  the  cage,  but  to 
examine  the  whole  matter  with  coolness  and  deliberation.  The 
result  proved  that  his  suspicions  had  been  erroneous ;  and  that 
the  armament  had  been  set  on  foot  without  any  treasonable  in 
tent.  Vasco  Nunez  was  therefore  set  at  liberty,  after  having 
agreed  to  certain  precautionary  conditions;  but  he  remained 
cast  down  in  spirit  and  impoverished  in  fortune,  by  the  har 
assing  measures  of  Pedrarias. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

EXPEDITION  OF  MORALES  AND  PIZARRO  TO  THE  SHORES  OF  THE 
PACIFIC  OCEAN— THEIR  VISIT  TO  THE  PEARL  ISLANDS— THEIR 
DISASTROUS  RETURN  ACROSS  THE  MOUNTAINS. 

THE  Bishop  of  Darien,  encouraged  by  the  success  of  his  in 
tercession,  endeavoured  to  persuade  the  governor  to  go  §tiU 


158  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERT. 

further,  and  to  permit  the  departure  of  Vasco  Nunez  on  his  ex- 
pedition  to  the  South  Sea.  The  jealousy  of  Pedrarias,  how 
ever,  was  too  strong  to  permit  him  to  listen  to  such  counsel. 
He  was  aware  of  the  importance  of  the  expedition,  and  was 
anxious  that  the  Pearl  Islands  should  be  explored,  which 
promised  such  abundant  treasures ;  but  he  feared  to  increase 
the  popularity  of  Vasco  Nunez,  by  adding  such  an  enterprise 
to  the  number  of  his  achievements.  Pedrarias,  therefore,  set 
on  foot  an  expedition,  consisting  of  sixty  men,  but  gave  the 
command  to  one  of  his  own  relations,  named  Gaspar  Morales. 
The  latter  was  accompanied  by  Francisco  Pizarro,  who  had 
already  been  to  those  parts  in  the  train  of  Vasco  Nunez,  and 
who  soon  rose  to  importance  in  the  present  enterprise  by  his 
fierce  courage  and  domineering  genius. 

A  brief  notice  of  the  principal  incidents  of  this  expedition  is 
all  that  is  necessary  for  the  present  narration. 

Morales  and  Pizarro  traversed  the  mountains  of  the  isth 
mus  by  a  shorter  and  more  expeditious  route  than  that  which 
had  been  taken  by  Vasco  Nunez,  and  arrived  on  the  shores  of 
the  South  Sea  at  the  territories  of  a  cacique  named  Tutibra,  by 
whom  they  were  amicably  entertained.  Their  great  object 
was  to  visit  the  Pearl  Islands :  the  cacique,  however,  had  but 
four  canoes,  which  were  insufficient  to  contain  their  whole 
party.  One-half  of  their  number,  therefore,  remained  at  the 
village  of  Tutibra,  under  the  command  of  a  captain  named 
Peiialosa ;  the  residue  embarked  in  the  canoes  with  Morales 
and  Pizarro.  After  a  stormy  and  perilous  voyage,  they  landed 
on  one  of  the  smaller  islands,  where  they  had  some  skirmish 
ing  with  the  natives,  and  thence  made  their  way  to  the  princi 
pal  island  of  the  Archipelago,  to  which,  from  the  report  of  its 
great  pearl  fishery,  Vasco  Nuiiez  had  given  the  name  of  Isla 
Rica. 

The  cacique  of  this  island  had  long  been  the  terror  of  the 
neighbouring  coasts,  invading  the  main  land  with  fleets  of 
canoes,  and  carrying  oft  the  inhabitants  into  captivity.  His 
reception  of  the  Spaniards  was  worthy  of  his  fame.  Four 
times  did  he  saiiy  forth  to  defend  his  territory,  and  as  often 
was  he  repulsed  with  great  slaughter.  His  warriors  were  over 
whelmed  with  terror  at  the  fire-arms  of  the  Spaniards,  and 
at  their  ferocious  bloodhounds.  Finding  all  resistance  un 
availing,  the  cacique  was  at  length  compelled  to  sue  for  peace. 
His  prayers  being  granted,  he  received  the  conquerors  into 
hib  habitation,  which  was  well  ouilt,  and  of  immense 


VASCO  NUftttZ  DE  BALBOA.  159 

Here  he  brought  them,  as  a  peace-offering,  a  basket  curiously 
wrought,  and  filled  with  pearls  of  great  beauty.  Among  these 
were  two  of  extraordinary  size  and  value.  One  weighed 
twenty -five  carats ;  the  other  was  of  the  size  of  a  Muscadine 
pear,  weighing  upwards  of  three  drachms,  and  of  oriental  col 
our  and  lustre.  The  cacique  considered  himself  more  than  re 
paid  by  a  present  of  hatchets,  beads,  and  hawks'-bells :  and,  on 
the  Spaniards  smiling  at  his  joy,  observed,  "These  things  I 
can  turn  to  useful  purpose,  but  of  what  value  are  those  pearls 
to  me?" 

Finding,  however,  that  these  baubles  were  precious  in  the 
eyes  of  the  Spaniards,  he  took  Morales  and  Pizarro  to  the  sum 
mit  of  a  wooden  tower,  commanding  an  unbounded  prospect. 
"Behold,  before  you,"  said  he,  "the  infinite  sea,  which  ex 
tends  even  beyond  the  sun  beams.  As  to  these  islands  which 
lie  to  the  right  and  left,  they  are  all  subject  to  my  sway. 
They  possess  but  little  gold,  but  the  deep  places  of  the  sea 
around  them  are  full  of  pearls.  Continue  to  be  my  friends, 
and  you  shall  have  as  many  as  you  desire ;  for  I  value  your 
friendship  more  than  pearls,  and,  as  far  as  in  me  lies,  will 
never  forfeit  it." 

He  then  pointed  to  the  main  land,  where  it  stretched  to 
wards  the  east,  mountain  beyond  mountain,  until  the  summit 
of  the  last  faded  in  the  distance,  and  was  scarcely  seen  above 
the  watery  horizon.  In  that  direction,  he  said,  there  lay  a 
vast  country  of  inexhaustible  riches,  inhabited  by  a  mighty 
nation.  He  went  on  to  repeat  the  vague  but  wonderful  ru 
mours  which  the  Spaniards  had  frequently  heard  about  the 
great  kingdom  of  Peru.  Pizarro  listened  greedily  to  his  words, 
and  while  his  eye  followed  the  finger  of  the  cacique,  as  it 
ranged  along  the  line  of  shadowy  coast,  his  daring  mind  kin 
dled  with  the  thought  of  seeking  tlu's  golden  empire  beyond 
the  waters.* 

Before  leaving  the  island,  the  two  captains  impressed  the 
cacique  with  so  great  an  idea  of  the  power  of  the  king  of  Cas 
tile,  that  he  agreed  to  become  his  vassal,  and  to  render  him  an 
annual  tribute  of  one  hundred  pounds  weight  of  pearls. 

The  party  having  returned  in  satety  to  the  mainland,  though 
to  a  different  place  from  that  where  they  had  embarked,  Gas- 
par  Morales  sent  his  relation,  Bernardo  Morales,  with  ten  men 


*  Ilerrera,  d.  2,  1.  i.  c.  iv.    P.  Martyr,  d.  3,  c.  x. 


100  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY 

in  quest  of  Penalosa  and  his  companions,  who  had  remained  in 
the  village  or  Tutibra. 

Unfortunately  for  the  Spaniards,  during  the  absence  of  the 
commanders,  this  Penalosa  had  so  exasperated  the  natives  by 
riis  misconduct,  that  a  conspiracy  had  been  formed  by  the 
caciques  along  the  coast  to  massacre  the  whole  of  the  strangers, 
when  the  party  should  return  from  the  islands. 

Bernardo  Morales  and  his  companions,  on  their  way  in 
quest  of  PenaJosa,  put  up  for  the  night  in  the  village  of  a 
cacique  named  Chuchama,  who  was  one  of  the  conspirators. 
They  were  entertained  with  pretended  hospitality.  In  the 
dead  of  the  night,  however,  the  house  in  which  they  were 
sleeping  was  wrapped  in  flames,  and  most  of  them  were  de 
stroyed.  Chuchama  then  prepared  with  his  confederates  to 
attack  the  main  body  of  the  Spaniards  who  remained  with 
Morales  and  Pizarro. 

Fortunately  for  the  latter,  there  was  among  the  Indians  who 
had  accompanied  them  to  the  islands  a  cacique  named  Chi- 
ruca,  who  was  in  secret  correspondence  with  the  conspirators. 
Some  circumstances  in  his  conduct  excited  their  suspicions; 
they  put  him  to  the  torture  and  drew  from  him  a  relation  of 
the  massacre  of  their  companions,  and  of  the  attack  with 
which  they  were  menaced. 

Morales  and  Pizarro  were  at  first  appalled  by  the  over 
whelming  danger  which  surrounded  them.  Concealing  their 
agitation,  however,  they  compelled  Chiruca  to  send  a  message 
to  each  of  the  confederate  caciques,  inviting  him  to  a  secret 
conference,  under  pretence  of  giving  him  important  informa 
tion.  The  caciques  came  at  the  summons:  they  were  thus 
taken  one  by  one  to  the  number  of  eighteen,  and  put  in  chains. 
Just  at  this  juncture  Penalosa  arrived  with  thirty  men  who 
had  remained  with  him  at  Tutibra.  Their  arrival  was  hailed 
with  joy  by  their  comrades,  who  had  given  them  up  for  lost. 
Encouraged  by  this  unexpected  reinforcement,  the  Spaniards 
now  attacked  by  surprise  the  main  body  of  confederate  In- 
dians,  who,  being  ignorant  of  the  discovery  of  their  plot,  and 
capture  of  their  caciques,  were  awaiting  the  return  of  the  lat 
ter  in  a  state  of  negligent  security. 

Pizarro  led  the  van,  and  set  upon  the  enemy  at  daybreak 
with  the  old  Spanish  war-cry  of  Santiago !  It  was  a  slaughter 
rather  than  a  battle,  for  the  Indians  were  unprepared  for  re 
sistance.  Before  sunrise,  seven  hundred  lay  dead  iipon  the 
field.  Returning  from  the  massacre,  the  commanders  doomed 


VASCO  NUNEZ  DE  BALBOA.  161 

the  caciques  who  were  in  chains  to  be  torn  in  pieces  by  the 
bloodhounds ;  nor  was  even  Chiruca  spared  from  this  sangui 
nary  sentence.  Notwithstanding  this  bloody  revenge,  the 
vindictive  spirit  of  the  commanders  was  still  unappeased,  and 
they  set  off  to  surprise  the  village  of  a  cacique  named  Biru, 
who  dwelt  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  Gulf  of  St.  Michael.  He 
was  famed  for  valour  and  for  cruelty ;  his  dwelling  was  sur 
rounded  by  the  weapons  and  other  trophies  of  those  whom  he 
had  vanquished ;  and  he  was  said  never  to  give  quarter. 

The  Spaniards  assailed  his  village  before  daybreak  with  fire 
and  sword,  and  made  dreadful  havoc.  Biru  escaped  from  his 
burning  habitation,  rallied  his  people,  kept  up  a  galling  fight 
throughout  the  greater  part  of  that  day,  and  handled  the 
Spaniards  so  roughly,  that,  when  he  drew  off  at  night,  they 
did  not  venture  to  pursue  him,  but  returned  right  gladly  from 
his  territory.  According  to  some  of  the  Spanish  writers,  the 
kingdom  of  Peru  derived  its  name  from  this  warlike  cacique, 
through  a  blunder  of  the  early  discoverers;  the  assertion, 
however,  is  believed  to  be  erroneous. 

The  Spanish  had  pushed  their  bloody  revenge  to  an  extreme, 
and  were  now  doomed  to  suffer  from  the  recoil.  In  the  fury 
of  their  passions,  they  had  forgotten  that  they  were  but  a 
handful  of  men  surrounded  by  savage  nations.  Returning 
wearied  and  disheartened  from  the  battle  with  Biru,  they  were 
waylaid  and  assaulted  by  a  host  of  Indians  led  on  by  the  son 
of  Chiruca.  A  javelin  from  his  hand  pierced  one  of  the 
Spaniards  through  the  breast  and  came  out  between  the 
shoulders;  several  others  were  wounded,  and  the  remainder 
were  harassed  by  a  galling  fire  kept  up  from  among  rocks 
and  bushes. 

Dismayed  at  the  implacable  vengeance  they  had  aroused,  the 
Spaniards  hastened  to  abandon  these  hostile  shores  and  make 
the  best  of  their  way  back  to  Darien.  The  Indians,  however, 
were  not  to  be  appeased  by  the  mere  departure  of  the  in 
truders.  They  followed  them  perseveringly  for  seven  days, 
hanging  on  their  skirts,  and  harassing  them  by  continual 
alarms.  Morales  and  Pizarro,  seeing  the  obstinacy  of  their 
pursuit,  endeavoured  to  gain  a  march  upon  them  by  strata 
gem.  Making  large  fires  as  usual  one  night  about  the  place 
of  their  encampment,  they  left  them  burning  to  deceive  the 
enemy  while  they  made  a  rapid  retreat.  Among  their  num 
ber  was  one  poor  fellow  named  Velasquez,  who  was  so  griev 
ously  wounded  that  he  could  not  walk.  Unable  to  accompany 


162  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

his  countrymen  in  their  flight,  and  dreading  to  fall  into  the 
merciless  hands  of  the  savages,  he  determined  to  hang  him 
self,  nor  could  the  prayers  and  even  tears  of  his  comrades  dis 
suade  him  from  his  purpose. 

The  stratagem  of  the  Spaniards,  however,  was  unavailing. 
Their  retreat  was  perceived,  and  at  daybreak,  to  their  dismay, 
they  found  themselves  surrounded  by  three  squadrons  of  sav 
ages.  Unable,  in  their  haggard  state,  to  make  head  against 
so  many  foes,  they  remained  drawn  up  all  day  on  the  defen 
sive,  some  watching  while  others  reposed.  At  night  they  lit 
their  fires  and  again  attempted  to  make  a  secret  retreat.  The 
Indians,  however,  were  as  usual  on  their  traces,  and  wounded 
several  with  arrows.  Thus  pressed  and  goaded,  the  Spaniards 
became  desperate,  and  fought  like  madmen,  rushing  upon  the 
very  darts  of  the  enemy. 

Morales  now  resorted  to  an  inhuman  and  fruitless  expedient 
to  retard  his  pursuers.  He  caused  several  Indian  prisoners  to 
be  slain,  hoping  that  their  friends  would  stop  to  lament  over 
them ;  but  the  sight  of  their  mangled  bodies  only  increased  the 
fury  of  the  savages  and  the  obstinacy  of  their  pursuit. 

For  nine  days  were  the  Spaniards  hunted  in  this  manner 
about  the  woods  and  mountains,  the  swamps  and  fens,  wander 
ing  they  knew  not  whither,  and  returning  upon  their  steps, 
until,  to  their  dismay,  they  found  themselves  in  the  very  place 
where,  several  days  previously,  they  had  been  surrounded  by 
the  three  squadrons. 

Many  now  began  to  despair  of  ever  escaping  with  life  from 
this  trackless  wilderness,  thus  teeming  with  deadly  foes.  It 
was  with  difficulty  their  commanders  could  rally  their  spirits, 
and  encourage  them  to  persevere.  Entering  a  thick  forest 
they  were  again  assailed  by  a  band  of  Indians,  but  despair  and 
fury  gave  them  strength :  they  fought  like  wild  beasts  rather 
than  like  men,  and  routed  the  foe  with  dreadful  carnage. 
They  had  hoped  to  gain  a  breathing  time  by  this  victory,  but  a 
new  distress  attended  them.  They  'got  entangled  in  one  of 
those  deep  and  dismal  marshes  which  abound  on  those  coasts, 
and  in  which  the  wanderer  is  often  drowned  or  suffocated. 
For  a  whole  day  they  toiled  through  brake  and  bramble,  and 
miry  fen,  with  the  water  reaching  to  their  girdles.  At  length 
they  extricated  themselves  from  the  swamp,  and  arrived  at 
the  sea  shore.  The  tide  was  out,  but  was  about  to  return,  and 
on  this  coast  it  rises  rapidly  to  a  great  height.  Fearing  to  be 
overwhelmed  by  the  rising  surf,  they  hastened  to  climb  a  rock 


VASCO  NUfiEZ  DE  BALBOA.  103 

out  of  reach  of  the  swelling  waters.  Here  they  threw  them 
selves  on  the  earth,  panting  with  fatigue  and  abandoned  to 
despair.  A  savage  wilderness  filled  with  still  more  savage 
foes,  was  on  one  side,  on  the  other  the  roaring  sea.  How  were 
they  to  extricate  themselves  from  these  surrounding  perils? 
While  reflecting  on  their  desperate  situation,  they  heard  the 
voices  of  Indians.  On  looking  cautiously  round,  they  beheld 
four  canoes  entering  a  neighbouring  creek.  A  party  was  im 
mediately  despatched  who  came  upon  the  savages  by  surprise, 
drove  them  into  the  woods,  and  seized  upon  the  canoes.  In 
these  frail  barks  the  Spaniards  escaped  from  their  perilous 
neighbourhood,  and,  traversing  the  Gulf  of  St.  Michael,  landed 
in  a  less  hostile  part,  from  whence  they  set  out  a  second  time 
across  the  mountains. 

It  is  needless  to  recount  the  other  hardships  they  endured, 
and  their  further  conflicts  with  the  Indians;  suffice  it  to  say, 
after  a  series  of  almost  incredible  sufferings  and  disasters, 
they  at  length  arrived  in  a  battered  and  emaciated  condition 
at  Darien.  Throughout  all  their  toils  and  troubles,  however, 
they  had  managed  to  preserve  a  part  of  the  treasure  they  had 
gained  in  the  islands;  especially  the  pearls  given  them  by  the 
cacique  of  Isla  Rica.  These  were  objects  of  universal  admira 
tion.  One  of  thorn  was  put  up  at  auction,  and  bought  by 
Pedrarias,  and  was  afterwards  presented  by  his  wife  Dona 
Isabella  de  Bobadilla  to  the  Empress,  who,  in  return,  gave  her 
four  thousand  ducats.* 

Such  was  the  cupidity  of  the  colonists,  that  the  sight  of 
these  pearls  and  the  reputed  wealth  of  the  islands  of  the 
Southern  Sea,  and  the  kingdoms  on  its  borders,  made  far 
greater  impression  on  the  public  mind,  than  the  tale  told  by 
the  adventurers  of  all  the  horrors  they  had  passed;  and  every 
one  was  eager  to  seek  these  wealthy  regions  beyond  the 
mountains. 

*  Herrera,  Hist.  Ind.  d.  2,  1.  i.  c.  4. 


164  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

UNFORTUNATE    ENTERPRISES    OF   THE    OFFICERS    OF    PEDRARIAS— 
MATRIMONIAL   COMPACT   BETWEEN   THE    GOVERNOR   AND  VASCO 

NUNEZ. 

IN  narrating  the  preceding  expedition  of  Morales  and  Pi- 
zarro,  we  have  been  tempted  into  what  may  almost  be  deemed 
an  episode,  though  it  serves  to  place  in  a  proper  light  the  lurk 
ing  difficulties  and  dangers  which  beset  the  expeditions  of 
Vasco  Nuiiez  to  the  same  regions,  and  his  superior  prudence 
and  management  in  avoiding  them.  It  is  not  the  object  of 
this  narrative,  however,  to  record  the  general  events  of  the 
colony  under  the  administration  of  Don  Pedrarias  Davila. 
We  refrain,  therefore,  from  detailing  various  expeditions  set  on 
foot  by  him  to  explore  and  subjugate  the  surrounding  country ; 
and  which,  being  ignorantly  or  rashly  conducted,  too  often 
ended  in  misfortune  and  disgrace.  One  of  these  was  to  the 
province  of  Zenu,  where  gold  was  supposed  to  be  taken  in  the 
rivers  in  nets ;  and  where  the  Bachelor  Enciso  once  undertook 
to  invade  the  sepulchres.  A  captain  named  Francisco  Be- 
cerra  penetrated  into  this  country  at  the  head  of  one  hundred 
and  eighty  men,  well  armed  and  equipped,  and  provided  with 
three  pieces  of  artillery ;  but  neither  the  commander  nor  any 
of  his  men  returned.  An  Indian  boy  who  accompanied  them 
was  the  only  one  who  escaped,  and  told  the  dismal  tale  of  their 
having  fallen  victims  to  the  assaults  and  stratagems  and 
poisoned  arrows  of  the  Indians. 

Another  band  was  defeated  by  Tubanama,  the  ferocious  ca 
cique  of  the  mountains,  who  bore  as  banners  the  bloody  shirts 
of  the  Spaniards  he  had  slain  in  former  battles.  In  fine,  the 
colony  became  so  weakened  by  these  repeated  losses,  and  the 
savages  so  emboldened  by  success,  that  the  latter  beleaguered 
it  with  their  forces,  harassed  it  by  assaults  and  ambuscades, 
and  reduced  it  to  great  extremity.  Such  was  the  alarm  in 
Darien,  says  the  Bishop  Las  Casas,  that  the  people  feared  to 
be  burnt  in  their  houses.  They  kept  a  watchful  eye  upon  the 
mountains,  the  plains,  and  the  very  branches  of  the  trees. 
Their  imaginations  were  infected  by  their  fears.  If  they 
looked  toward  the  land,  the  long,  waving  grass  of  the  savan 
nahs  appeared  to  them  to  be  moving  hosts  of  Indians.  If  they 
looked  towards  the  sea,  they  fancied  they  beheld  fleets  <?f 


VASCO  NUNEZ  DE  BALBOA.  165 

canoes  in  the  distance.  Pedrarias  endeavoured  to  prevent  all 
rumours  from  abroad  that  might  increase  this  fevered  state  of 
alarm ;  at  the  same  time  he  ordered  the  smelting-house  to  be 
closed,  which  was  never  done"  but  in  time  of  war.  This  was 
done  at  the  suggestion  of  the  Bishop,  who  caused  prayers  to 
be  put  up,  and  fasts  proclaimed,  to  avert  the  impending 
calamities. 

While  Pedrarias  was  harassed  and  perplexed  by  these  com 
plicated  evils,  he  was  haunted  by  continual  apprehensions  of 
the  ultimate  ascendency  of  Vasco  Nunez.  He  knew  him  to  be 
beloved  by  the  people,  and  befriended  by  the  Bishop ;  and  he 
had  received  proofs  that  his  services  were  highly  appreciated 
by  the  king.  He  knew  also  that  representations  had  been  sent 
home  by  him  and  his  partisans,  of  the  evils  and  abuses  of  the 
colony  under  the  present  rule,  and  of  the  necessity  of  a  more 
active  and  efficient  governor.  He  dreaded  lest  these  represen 
tations  should  ultimately  succeed;  that  he  should  be  under 
mined  in  the  royal  favour,  and  Yasco  Nunez  be  elevated  upon 
his  ruins. 

The  politic  bishop  perceived  the  uneasy  state  of  the  gover 
nor's  mind,  and  endeavoured,  by  means  of  his  apprehensions, 
to  effect  that  reconciliation  which  he  had  sought  in  vain  to 
produce  through  more  generous  motives.  He  represented  to 
him  that  his  treatment  of  Vasco  Nuilez  was  odious  in  the  eyes 
of  the  people,  and  must  eventually  draw  on  him  the  displea 
sure  of  his  sovereign.  "But  why  persist,"  added  he,  "in 
driving  a  man  to  become  your  deadliest  enemy,  whom  you 
may  grapple  to  your  side  as  your  firmest  friend?  You  have 
several  daughters— give  him  one  in  marriage ;  you  will  then 
have  for  a  son-in-law  a  man  of  merit  and  popularity,  who  is  a 
hidalgo  by  birth,  and  a  favourite  of  the  king.  You  are  ad 
vanced  in  life  and  infirm ;  he  is  in  the  prime  and  vigour  of  his 
days,  and  possessed  of  great  activity.  You  can  make  him 
your  lieutenant;  and  while  you  repose  from  your  toils,  he  can 
carry  on  the  affairs  of  the  colony  with  spirit  and  enterprise ; 
and  all  his  achievements  will  redound  to  the  advancement  of 
.  your  family  and  the  splendour  of  your  administration." 

The  governor  and  his  lady  were  won  by  the  eloquence  of 
the  bishop  and  readily  listened  to  his  suggestions ;  and  Vasco 
Nunez  was  but  too  happy  to  effect  a  reconciliation  on  such 
flattering  terms.  Written  articles  were  accordingly  drawn  up 
and  exchanged,  contracting  a  marriage  between  him  and  the 
eWest  Daughter  of  Pedre-rias.  The  young  lady  was  the.u  in 


166  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

Spain,  but  was  to  be  sent  for,  and  the  nuptials  were  to  be  cele 
brated  on  her  arrival  at  Darien. 

Having  thus  fulfilled  his  office  of  peace-maker,  and  settled, 
as  he  supposed,  all  feuds  and  jealousies  on  the  sure  and  per 
manent  foundation  of  family  alliance,  the  worthy  bishop  de 
parted  shortly  afterwards  for  Spain. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

VASCO    NUNEZ     TRANSPORTS    SHIPS    ACROSS     THE    MOUNTAINS    TO 
THE  PACIFIC   OCEAN. — (1516.) 

BEHOLD  Vasco  Nuilez  once  more  in  the  high  career  of  pros 
perity  !  His  most  implacable  enemy  had  suddenly  been  con 
verted  into  his  dearest  friend ;  for  the  governor,  now  that  he 
looked  upon  him  as  his  son-in-law,  loaded  him  with  favours. 
Above  all,  he  authorized  him  to  buil  1  brigantines  and  make  all 
the  necessary  preparations  for  his  long-desired  expedition  to 
explore  the  Southern  Ocean.  The  place  appointed  for  these 
purposes  was  the  port  of  Careta,  situated  to  the  west  of 
Darien ;  from  whence  there  was  supposed  to  be  the  most  con 
venient  roujbe  across  the  mountains.  A  town  called  Acla  had 
been  founded  at  this  port;  and  the  fortress  was  already 
erected,  of  which  Lope  de  Olano  was  Alcalde;  Vasco  Nunez 
was  now  empowered  to  continue  the  building  of  the  town. 
Two  hundred  men  were  placed  under  his  command  to  aid  him 
in  carrying  his  plans  into  execution,  and  a  sum  of  money  was 
advanced  to  him  out  of  the  royal  treasury.  His  supply  of 
funds,  however,  was  not  sufficient ;  but  he  received  assistance 
from  a  private  source.  There  was  a  notary  at  Darieii,  named 
Hernando  de  Arguello,  a  man  of  some  consequence  in  the  com 
munity,  and  who  had  been  one  of  the  most  furious  opponents 
of  the  unfortunate  Nicuesa.  He  had  amassed  considerable 
property,  and  now  embarked  a  great  part  of  it  in  the  proposed 
enterprise,  on  condition,  no  doubt,  of  sharing  largely  in  its 
anticipated  profits. 

On  arriving  at  Acla,  Vasco  Nuiiez  set  to  work  to  prepare 
the  materials  of  four  brigantines  that  were  to  be  launched  into 
the  South  Sea.  The  timber  was  felled  on  the  Atlantic  sea 
board;  and  was  then,  with  the  anchors  and  rigging,  trans- 


VA8CO  NUNEZ  DE  BALBOA.  167 

ported  across  the  lofty  ridge  of  mountains  to  the  opposite 
shores  of  the  isthmus.  Several  Spaniards,  thirty  Negroes,  and 
a  great  number  of  Indians  were  employed  for  the  purpose. 
They  had  no  other  roads  but  Indian  paths,  straggling  through 
almost  impervious  forests,  across  torrents,  and  up  rugged 
defiles,  broken  by  rocks  and  precipices.  In  this  way  they 
toiled  like  ants  up  the  mountains,  with  their  ponderous  bur 
thens,  under  the  scorching  rays  of  a  tropical  sun.  Many  of 
the  poor  Indians  sank  by  the  way  and  perished  under  this  stu 
pendous  task.  The  Spaniards  and  Negroes,  being  of  hardier 
constitutions,  were  better  able  to  cope  with  the  incredible 
hardships  to  which  they  were  subjected.  On  the  summit  of 
the  mountains  a  house  had  been  provided  for  their  temporary 
repose.  After  remaining  here  a  little  time  to  refresh  them 
selves  and  gain  new  strength,  they  renewed  their  labours, 
descending  the  opposite  side  of  the  mountains  until  they 
reached  the  navigable  part  of  a  river,  which  they  called  the 
Balsas,  and  which  flowed  into  the  Pacific. 

Much  time  and  trouble  and  many  lives  were  expended  on 
this  arduous  undertaking,  before  they  had  transported  to  the 
river  sufficient  timber  for  two  brigantines ;  while  the  timber 
for  the  other  two,  and  the  rigging  and  munitions  for  the  whole, 
yet  remained  to  be  brought.  To  add  to  their  difficulties,  they 
had  scarcely  begun  to  work  upon  the  timber  before  they  dis 
covered  that  it  was  totally  useless,  being  subject  to  the  ravages 
of  the  worms  from  having  been  cut  in  the  vicinity  of  salt 
water.  They  were  obliged,  therefore,  to  begin  anew,  and  fell 
trees  on  the  border  of  the  river. 

Vasco  Nunez  maintained  his  patience  and  perseverance,  and 
displayed  admirable  management  under  these  delays  and  diffi 
culties.  Their  supply  of  food  being  scanty,  he  divided  his 
people,  Spaniards,  Negroes,  and  Indians,  into  three  bands ;  one 
was  to  cut  and  saw  the  wood,  another  to  bring  the  rigging  and 
iron-work  from  Acla,  which  was  twenty -two  leagues  distant ; 
and  the  third  to  forage  the  neighbouring  country  for  pro 
visions. 

Scarcely  was  the  timber  felled  and  shaped  for  use  when  the 
rains  set  in,  and  the  river  swelled  and  overflowed  its  banks  so 
suddenly,  that  the  workmen  barely  escaped  with  their  lives 
by  clambering  into  the  trees ;  while  the  wood  on  which  they 
had  been  working  was  either  buried  in  sand  or  slime,  or  swept 
away  by  the  raging  torrent.  Famine  was  soon  added  to  their 
Other  distresses.  The  foraging  party  was  absent  and  did  not 


168  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

return  with  food ;  and  the  swelling  of  the  river  cut  them  oft 
from  that  part  of  the  country  from  whence  they  obtained  their 
supplies.  They  were  reduced,  therefore,  to  such  scarcity,  as  to 
be  fain  to  assuage  their  hunger  with  such  roots  as  they  could 
gather  in  the  forests. 

In  this  extremity  the  Indians  bethought  themselves  of  one 
of  their  rude  and  simple  expedients.  Plunging  into  the  river 
they  fastened  a  number  of  logs  together  with  withes,  and  con 
nected  them  with  the  opposite  bank  so  as  to  make  a  floating 
bridge.  On  this  a  party  of  the  Spaniards  crossed  with  great 
difficulty  and  peril,  from  the  violence  of  the  current,  and  the 
flexibility  of  the  bridge,  which  often  sank  beneath  them  until 
the  water  rose  above  their  girdles.  On  being  safely  landed, 
they  foraged  the  neighbourhood,  and  procured  a  supply  of  pro 
visions  sufficient  for  the  present  emergency. 

When  the  river  subsided  the  workmen  again  resumed  their 
labours;  a  number  of  recruits  arrived  from  Acla,  bringing 
various  supplies,  and  the  business  of  the  enterprise  was  pressed 
with  redoubled  ardour,  until,  at  length,  after  a  series  of  in 
credible  toils  and  hardships,  Vasco  Nunez  had  the  satisfaction 
to  behold  two  of  his  brigantines  floating  on  the  river  Balsas. 
As  soon  as  they  could  be  equipped  for  sea,  he  embarked  in 
them  with  as  many  Spaniards  as  they  could  carry ;  and,  issu 
ing  forth  from  the  river,  launched  triumphantly  on  the  great 
ocean  he  had  discovered. 

We  can  readily  imagine  the  exultation  of  this  intrepid  ad 
venturer,  and  how  amply  he  was  repaid  for  all  his  sufferings 
when  he  first  spread  a  sail  upon  that  untra versed  ocean  and 
felt  that  the  range  of  an  unknown  world  was  open  to  him. 

There  are  points  in  the  history  of  these  Spanish  discoveries 
of  the  western  hemisphere  that  make  us  pause  with  wonder 
and  admiration  at  the  daring  spirit  of  the  men  who  conducted 
them  and  the  appalling  difficulties  surmounted  by  their  cour 
age  and  perseverance.  We  know  few  instances,  however, 
more  striking  than  this  piecemeal  transportation  across  the 
mountains  of  Darien  of  the  first  European  ships  that  ploughed 
the  waves  of  the  Pacific;  and  we  can  readily  excuse  the  boast 
of  the  old  Castilian  writers  when  they  exclaim  ' '  that  none  but 
Spaniards  could  ever  have  conceived  or  persisted  in  such  an 
undertaking,  and  no  commander  in  the  new  world  but  Vasco 
Nunez  could  have  conducted  it  to  a  successful  issue."  * 

*  Herrera,  d.  2, 1.  ii.  c.  11. 


VASCO  NUftEZ  Ltt  BALBOA. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

CRUISE  OF  VASCO  NUNEZ  IN  THE  SOUTHERN  SEA— RUMOURS  FROM 

ACLA. 

THE  first  cruise  of  Vasco  Nunez  was  to  the  group  of  Pearl 
islands,  on  the  principal  one  of  which  he  disembarked  the 
greater  part  of  his  crews,  and  despatched  the  brigantines  to  the 
main  land  to  bring  off  the  remainder.  It  was  his  intention  to 
construct  the  other  two  vessels  of  his  proposed  squadron  at  this 
island.  During  the  absence  of  the  brigantines  he  ranged  the 
island  with  his  men  to  collect  provisions  and  to  establish  a 
complete  sway  over  the  natives.  On  the  return  of  his  vessels, 
and  while  preparations  were  making  for  the  building  of  the 
)thers,  he  embarked  with  a  hundred  men  and  departed  on  a 
reconnoitering  cruise  to  the  eastward  towards  the  region 
pointed  out  by  the  Indians  as  abounding  in  riches. 

Having  passed  about  twenty  leagues  beyond  the  Gulf  of  San 
Miguel,  the  mariners  were  filled  with  apprehension  at  behold 
ing  a  great  number  of  whales,  which  resembled  a  reef  of  rocks 
stretching  far  into  the  sea  and  lashed  by  breakers.  In  an  un 
known  ocean  like  this  every  unusual  object  is  apt  to  inspire 
alarm.  The  seamen  feared  to  approach  these  fancied  dangers 
in  the  dark;  Vasco  Nuiiez  anchored,  therefore,  for  the  night 
under  a  point  of  land,  intending  to  continue  in  the  same  direc 
tion  on  the  following  day.  When  the  morning  dawned,  how 
ever,  the  wind  had  changed  and  was  contrary ;  whereupon  he 
altered  his  course  and  thus  abandoned  a  cruise,  which,  if  per 
severed  ia,  might  have  terminated  in  the  discovery  of  Peru! 
Steering  for  the  main  land,  he  anchored  on  that  part  of  the 
coast  governed  by  the  cacique  Chuchama,  who  had  massacred 
Bernardo  Morales  and  his  companions  when  reposing  in  his 
village.  Here  landing  with  his  men,  Vasco  Nunez  came  sud 
denly  upon  the  dwelling  of  the  cacique.  The  Indians  sallied 
forth  to  defend  their  homes,  but  were  routed  with  great  loss ; 
and  ample  vengeance  was  taken  upon  them  for  their  outrage 
upon  the  laws  of  hospitality.  Having  thus  avenged  the  death 
of  his  countrymen,  Vasco  Nunez  re-embarked  and  returned  to 
Isla  Rica. 

Ho  now  applied  himself  diligently  to  complete  the  building 
of  his  brigantines,  despatching  men  to  Acla  to  bring  the  neces- 


HO  SPANISH   VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

sary  stores  and  rigging  across  the  mountains.  While  thus 
occupied,  a  rumour  reached  him  that  a  new  governor  named 
Lope  de  Sosa  was  coming  out  from  Spain  to  supersede  Pedra- 
rias.  Vasco  Nunez  was  troubled  at  these  tidings.  A  new  gov 
ernor  would  be  likely  to  adopt  new  measures,  or  to  have  new 
favourites.  He  feared,  therefore,  that  some  order  might  come 
to  suspend  or  embarrass  his  expedition,  or  that  the  command 
of  it  might  be  given  to  another.  In  his  perplexity  he  held  a 
consultation  with  several  of  his  confidential  officers. 

After  some  debate,  it  was  agreed  among  them  that  a  trusty 
and  intelligent  person  should  be  sent  as  a  scout  to  Acla  un 
der  pretence  of  procuring  munitions  for  the  ships.  Should 
he  find  Pedrarias  in  quiet  possession  of  the  government,  he 
was  to  account  to  him  for  the  delay  of  the  expedition ;  to  re 
quest  that  the  time  allotted  to  it  might  be  extended,  and  to 
request  reinforcements  and  supplies.  Should  he  find,  however, 
that  a  new  governor  was  actually  arrived,  he  was  to  return 
immediately  with  the  tidings.  In  such  case  it  was  resolved  to 
put  to  sea  before  any  contrary  orders  could  arrive,  trusting 
eventually  to  excuse  themselves  on  the  plea  of  zeal  and  good 
intentions. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

RECONNOITEEING     EXPEDITION    OF     GARABITO  —  STRATAGEM     OP 
PEDRARIAS  TO  ENTRAP  VASCO  NUNEZ. 

THE  person  entrusted  with  the  reconnoitering  expedition  to 
Acla  was  Andres  Garabito,  in  whose  fidelity  and  discretion 
Vasco  Nuiiex  had  implicit  confidence.  His  confidence  was 
destined  to  be  fatally  deceived.  According  to  the  assertions  of 
contemporaries,  this  Garabito  cherished  a  secret  and  vindic 
tive  enmity  against  his  commander,  arising  from  a  simple  but 
a  natural  cause.  Vasco  Nunez  had  continued  to  have  a  fond 
ness  for  the  Indian  damsel,  daughter  of  the  cacique  Car  eta, 
whom  he  had  received  from  her  father  as  a  pledge  of  amity. 
Some  dispute  arose  concerning  her  on  one  occasion  between 
him  and  Garabito,  in  the  course  of  which  he  expressed  himself 
in  severe  and  galling  language.  Garabito  was  deeply  morti 
fied  at  some  of  his  expressions,  and,  being  of  a  malignant 
spirit,  determined  on  a  dastardly  revenge.  He  wrote  pri- 


VASCO  NU&EZ  DE  BALBOA.  171 

vately  to  Pedrarias,  assuring  him  that  Vasco  Nunez  had  no 
intention  of  solemnizing  his  marriage  with  his  daughter,  being 
completely  under  the  influence  of  an  Indian  paramour;  that 
h^  made  use  of  the  friendship  of  Pedrarias  merely  to  further 
his  own  selfish  views,  intending,  as  soon  as  his  ships  were 
ready,  to  throw  off  all  allegiance,  and  to  put  to  sea  as  an  inde 
pendent  commander. 

This  mischievous  letter  Garabito  had  written  immediately 
after  the  last  departure  of  Vasco  Nuiiez  from  Acla.  Its  effects 
upon  the  proud  and  jealous  spirit  of  the  governor  may  easily 
be  conceived.  All  his  former  suspicions  were  immediately  re 
vived.  They  acquired  strength  during  a  long  interval  that 
elapsed  without  tidings  being  received  from  the  expedition. 
There  were  designing  and  prejudiced  persons  at  hand  who  per 
ceived  and  quickened  these  jealous  feelings  of  the  governor. 
Among  these  was  the  Bachelor  Corral,  who  cherished  a  deep 
grudge  against  Vasco  Nuiiez  for  having  once  thrown  him  into 
prison  for  his  factious  conduct ;  and  Alonzo  de  la  Puente,  the 
royal  treasurer,  whom  Vasco  Nuiiez  had  affronted  by  demand 
ing  the  re-payment  of  a  loan.  Such  was  the  tempest  that  was 
gradually  gathering  in  the  factious  little  colony  of  Darien. 

The  subsequent  conduct  of  Garabito  gives  much  confirma 
tion  to  the  charge  of  perfidy  that  has  been  advanced  against 
him.  When  he  arrived  at  Acla  he  found  that  Pedrarias  re 
mained  in  possession  of  the  government;  for  his  intended 
successor  had  died  in  the  very  harbour.  The  conduct  and 
conversation  of  Garabito  was  such  as  to  arouse  suspicions;  he 
was  arrested,  and  his  papers  and  letters  were  sent  to  Pedra 
rias.  When  examined  he  readily  suffered  himself  to  be 
wrought  upon  by  threats  of  punishment  and  promises  of 
pardon,  and  revealed  all  that  he  knew,  and  declared  still  more 
that  he  suspected  and  surmised,  of  the  plans  and  intentions  of 
Vasco  Nuiiez. 

The  arrest  of  Garabito,  and  the  seizure  of  his  letters,  pro 
duced  a  great  agitation  at  Darien.  It  was  considered  a  revival 
of  the  ancient  animosity  between  the  governor  and  Vasco 
Nunez,  and  the  friends  of  the  latter  trembled  for  his  safety. 

Hernando  de  Arguello,  especially,  Avas  in  great  alarm.  He 
had  embarked  the  most  of  his  fortune  in  the  expedition,  and 
the  failure  of  it  would  be  ruinous  to  him.  He  wrote  to  Vasco 
Nuiiez,  informing  him  of  the  critical  posture  of  affairs,  and 
urging  him  to  put  to  sea  without  delay.  He  would  be  pro 
tected  at  all  events,  he  said,  by  the  Jeronimite  Fathers  at  San, 


172  SPANISH   VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

Domingo,  who  were  at  that  time  all-powerful  in  the  new 
world,  and  who  regarded  his  expedition  as  calculated  to  pro 
mote  the  glory  of  God  as  well  as  the  dominion  of  the  king.* 
This  letter  fell  into  the  hands  of  Pedrarias,  and  convinced  hjm 
of  the  existence  of  a  dangerous  plot  against  his  authority.  He 
immediately  ordered  Arguello  to  be  arrested ;  and  now  devised 
means  to  get  Vasco  Nunez  within  his  power.  While  the  latter 
remained  on  the  shores  of  the  South  Sea  with  his  brigantines 
and  his  band  of  hearty  and  devoted  followers,  Pedrarias  knew 
that  it  would  be  in  vain  to  attempt  to  take  him  by  force. 
Dissembling  his  suspicions  and  intentions,  therefore,  he  wrote 
to  him  in  the  most  amicable  terms,  requesting  him  to  repair 
immediately  to  Acla,  as  he  wished  to  hold  a  conference  with 
him  about  the  impending  expedition.  Fearing,  however,  that 
Vasco  Nufiez  might  suspect  his  motives  and  refuse  to  comply, 
"ie,  at  the  same  time,  ordered  Francisco  Pizarro  to  muster  all 
Che  armed  force  he  could  collect,  and  to  seek  and  arrest  his 
late  patron  and  commander  wherever  he  might  be  found. 

So  great  was  the  terror  inspired  by  the  arrest  of  Arguello, 
and  by  the  general  violence  of  Pedrarias,  that,  though  Vasco 
Nuiiez  was  a  favourite  with  the  great  mass  of  the  people,  no 
one  ventured  to  warn  him  of  the  danger  that  attended  his 
return  to  Acla. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

VASCO  NUNEZ  AND   THE  ASTROLOGER — HIS  RETURN  TO  ACLA. 

THE  old  Spanish  writers  who  have  treated  of  the  fortunes  of 
Vasco  Nuiiez,  record  an  anecdote  which  is  worthy  of  being 
cited,  as  characteristic  of  the  people  and  the  age.  Among  the 
motley  crowd  of  adventurers  lured  across  the  ocean  by  the 
reputed  wealth  and  wonders  of  the  new  world,  was  an  Italian 


*  In  consequence  of  the  eloquent  representations  made  to  the  Spanish  Govern 
ment  by  the  venerable  Las  Casas,  of  the  cruel  wrongs  and  oppressions  practised 
upon  Ohe  Indians  in  the  colonies,  the  Cardinal  Ximenes,  m  1516,  sent  out  three 
Jerommite  Friars,  chosen  for  their  zeal  and  abilities,  clothed  with  full  powers  to 
inquire  into  and  remedy  all  abuses,  and  to  take  all  proper  measures  for  the  good 
go\  eminent,  religious  instiuction,  and  effectual  protection  of  the  natives.  The 
exercise  of  their  powers  at  San  Domingo  made  a  great  sensation  in  the  new  world, 
and,  for  a  time,  had  a  beneficial  effect  in  checking  the  oppressive  and.  licentious 


VASCO  NUNEZ  DE  BALBOA.  173 

astrologer,  a  native  of  Venice,  named  Micer  Codro.  At  the 
time  that  Vasco  Nunez  held  supreme  sway  at  Darien,  this 
reader  of  the  stars  had  cast  his  horoscope,  and  pretended  to 
foretell  his  destiny.  Pointing  one  night  to  a  certain  star,  he 
assured  him  that  in  the  year  in  which  he  should  behold  that 
star  in  a  part  of  the  heavens  which  he  designated,  his  life 
would  be  in  imminent  jeopardy;  but  should  he  survive  this 
year  of  peril,  he  would  become  the  richest  and  most  renowned 
captain  throughout  the  Indies. 

Several  years,  it  is  added,  had  elapsed  since  this  prediction 
was  made ;  yet,  that  it  still  dwelt  in  the  mind  of  Vasco  Nuiiez, 
was  evident  from  the  following  circumstance.  While  waiting 
the  return  of  his  messenger,  Garabito,  he  was  on  the  shore  of 
Isla  Rica  one  serene  evening,  .in  company  with  some  of  his 
officers,  when,  regarding  the  heavens,  he  beheld  the  fated  star 
exactly  in  that  part  of  the  firmament  which  had  been  pointed 
out  by  the  Italian  astrologer.  Turning  to  nis  companions, 
with  a  smile,  "Behold,"  said  he,  "the  wisdom  of  those  who 
believe  in  sooth-sayers,  and,  above  all,  in  such  an  astrologer  as 
Micer  Codro !  According  to  his  prophecy,  I  should  now  be  in 
imminent  peril  of  my  life ;  yet,  here  I  am,  within  reach  of  all 
my  wishes ;  sound  in  health,  with  four  brigantines  and  three 
hundred  men  at  my  command,  and  on  the  point  of  exploring 
this  great  southern  ocean." 

At  this  fated  juncture,  say  the  chroniclers,  arrived  the 
hypocritical  letter  of  Pedrarias,  inviting  him  to  an  interview 
at  Acla!  The  discreet  reader  will  decide  for  himself  what 
credit  to  give  to  this  anecdote,  or  rather  what  allowance  to 
make  for  the  little  traits  of  coincidence  gratuitously  added  to 
the  original  fact  by  writers  who  delight  in  the  marvellous. 
The  tenor  of  this  letter  awakened  no  suspicion  in  the  breast  of 
Vasco  Nuiiez,  who  reposed  entire  confidence  in  the  amity  of 
the  governor  as  his  intended  father-in-law,  and  appears,  to 
have  been  unconscious  of  any  thing  in  his  own  conduct  that 
could  warrant  hostility.  Leaving  his  ships  in  command  of 
Francisco  Companon,  he  departed  immediately  to  meet  the 
governor  at  Acla,  unattended  by  any  armed  force. 

The  messengers  who  had  brought  the  letter  maintained  at 
first  a  cautious  silence  as  to  the  events  which  had  transpired 
at  Darien.  They  were  gradually  won,  however,  by  the  frank 
and  genial  manners  of  Vasco  Nuiiez,  and  grieved  to  see  so  gal- 
lant  a  soldier  hurrying  into  the  snare.  Having  crossed  the 
mountains  and  drawn  near  to  Acla,  their  kind  feelings  got  the 


174  SPANISH   VOYAGES  OF 

better  of  their  caution,  and  they  revealed  the  true  nature  of 
their  errand,  and  the  hostile  intentions  of  Pedrarias.  Vasco 
Nunez  was  struck  with  astonishment  at  the  recital ;  but,  heing 
unconscious,  it  is  said,  of  any  evil  intention,  he  could  scarcely 
credit  this  sudden  hostility  in  a  man  who  had  but  recently 
promised  him  his  daughter  in  marriage.  He  imagined  the 
whole  to  be  some  groundless  jealousy  which  his  own  appear 
ance  would  dispel,  and  accordingly  continued  on  his  journey. 
He  had  not  proceeded  far,  however,  when  he  was  met  by  a 
band  of  armed  men,  led  by  Francisco  Pizarro.  The  latter 
stepped  forward  to  arrest  his  ancient  commander.  Vasco 
Nunez  paused  for  a  moment,  and  regarded  him  with  a  look 
of  reproachful  astonishment.  "How  is  this,  Francisco?"  ex 
claimed  he.  "Is  this  the  way  you  have  been  accustomed  to 
receive  me?"  Offering  no  further  remonstrance,  he  suffered 
himself  quietly  to  be  taken  prisoner  by  his  former  adherent, 
and  conducted  in  chains  to  Acla.  Here  he  was  thrown  into 
prison,  and  Bartolome  Hurtado,  once  his  favourite  officer,  was 
sent  to  take  command  of  his  squadron. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

TRIAL  OF  VASCO   NUNEZ. 

DON  PEDRARIAS  concealed  his  exultation  at  the  success  of  the 
stratagem  by  which  he  had  ensnared  his  generous  and  con 
fiding  rival.  He  even  visited  him  in  prison,  and  pretended 
deep  concern  at  being  obliged  to  treat  him  with  this  tem 
porary  rigour,  attributing  it  entirely  to  certain  accusations 
lodged  against  him  by  the  Treasurer  Alonzo  de  la  Puente, 
which  his  official  situation  compelled  him  to  notice  and  inves 
tigate. 

"  Be  not  afflicted,  however,  my  son!"  said  the  hypocrite,  "an 
investigation  will,  doubtless,  rot  merely  establish  your  inno 
cence,  but  serve  to  render  your  zeal  and  loyalty  towards  your 
sovereign  still  more  conspicuous. " 

While  Pedrarias  assumed  this  soothing  tone  towards  his 
prisoner,  he  urged  the  Alcalde  Mayor  Espinosa  to  proceed 
against  him  with  the  utmost  rigour  of  the  law. 

The  charge  brought  against  him  of  a  treasonable  conspiracy 


VASCO  NUffEZ  DE  BALBOA.  175 

to  cast  off  all  allegiance  to  the  crown,  and  to  assume  an  inde 
pendent  sway  on  the  borders  of  the  Southern  Sea,  was  princi 
pally  supported  by  the  confessions  of  Andres  Garabito.  The 
evidence  is  also  cited  of  a  soldier,  who  stood  sentinel  one  night 
near  the  quarters  of  Vasco  Nunez  on  Isla  Eica,  and  who,  being 
driven  to  take  shelter  from  the  rain  under  the  eaves  of 
the  house,  overheard  a  conversation  betwesn  that  command 
er  and  certain  of  his  officers,  wherein  they  agreed  to  put  to 
sea  with  the  squadron  on  their  own  account,  and  to  set  the 
governor  at  defiance.  This  testimony,  according  to  Las  Casas, 
arose  from  a  misconstruction  on  the  part  of  the  sentinel,  who 
only  heard  a  portion  of  their  conversation,  relating  to  their  in 
tention  of  sailing  without  waiting  for  orders,  in  case  a  new  gov 
ernor  should  arrive  to  supersede  Pedrarias. 

The  governor  in  the  mean  time  informed  himself  from  day  to 
day  and  hour  to  hour  of  the  progress  of  the  trial,  and,  consid 
ering  the  evidence  sufficiently  strong  to  warrant  his  personal 
hostility,  ho  now  paid  another  visit  to  his  prisoner,  and,  throw 
ing  off  all  affectation  of  kindness,  upbraided  him  in  the  most 
passionate  manner. 

"Hitherto,"  said  he,  "I  have  treated  you  as  a  son,  because  I 
thought  you  loyal  to  your  king,  and  to  me  as  his  representa 
tive;  but  as  I  find  you  have  meditated  rebellion  against  the 
crown  of  Castile,  I  cast  you  off  from  my  affections,  and  shall 
henceforth  treat  you  as  an  enemy." 

Vasco  Nunez  indignantly  repelled  the  charge,  and  appealed 
to  the  confiding  frankness  of  his  conduct  as  a  proof  of  inno 
cence.  "Had  I  been  conscious  of  my  guilt,"  said  he,  "what 
could  have  induced  me  to  come  here  ana  put  myself  into  your 
hands?  Had  I  meditated  rebellion,  what  prevented  me  from 
carrying  it  into  effect?  I  had  four  ships  ready  to  weigh  anchor, 
three  hundred  brave  men  at  my  command,  and  an  open  sea 
before  me.  What  had  I  to  do  but  to  spread  sail  and  press  for 
ward?  There  was  no  doubt  of  finding  a  land,  whether  rich  or 
poor,  sufficient  for  me  and  mine,  far  beyond  the  reach  of  your 
control.  In  the  innocence  of  my  heart,  nowever,  I  came  here 
promptly,  at  your  mere  request,  and  my  reward  is  slander,  in 
dignity,  and  chains  1" 

The  noble  and  ingenuous  appeal  of  Vasco  Nunez  had  no  effect 
on  the  prejudiced  feelings  of  the  governor ;  on  the  contrary,  he 
was  but  the  more  exasperated  against  his  prisoner,  and  ordered 
that  his  irons  should  be  doubled. 

The  trial  was  now  urged  by  him  with  increased  eagerness, 


176  SPAyiSn   VOYAGES   OF  DISCOVERT. 

Lest  the  present  accusation  should  not  be  sufficient  to  effect 
the  ruin  of  his   victim,  the  old  inquest  into   his  conduct  as 
governor,  which  had  remained  suspended  for  many  year- 
revived,  and  he  was  charged  anew  with  the  wrongs  iir 
on  the  Bachelor  Enciso,  and  with  the  death  of  the  unfortunate 
Nicu 

Notwithstanding  all  these  charges,  the  trial  went  on  slowly, 
with  frequent  delays:  for  the  Alcalde  Mayor.  Gaspar  de  Espi- 
nosa.  seems  to  have  had  but  little  relish  for  the  task  assigned 
him,  and  to  have  needed  frequent  spurring  from  the  eager  and 
passionate  governor.  He  probably  considered  the  accused  as 
technically  guilty,  though  innocent  of  all  intentional  rebellion, 
but  was  ordered  to  decide  according  to  the  strict  letter  of  the 
law.  He  therefore  at  length  gave  a  reluctant  verdict  against 
Fasco  Nunez,  but  recommended  him  to  mercy,  on  account  of 
Ms  great  services.  IT  entreated  that,  at  least,  lie  might  be  per 
mitted  to  appeal  •  •  No :"  said  the  unrelenting  Pedrarias.  •  •  If 
he  has  merited  death,  let  him  suffer  death !"  He  accordingly 
condemned  him  to  be  beheaded.  The  same  sentence  was 
passed  upon  several  of  his  officers  who  were  implicated  in  his 
alleged  conspiracy :  among  these  was  Hernando  de  Arguello, 
who  had  written  the  letter  to  Yasco  Nunnez.  informing  him  of 
the  arrest  of  his  messenger,  and  advising  him  to  put  to  sea, 
without  heeding  the  hostility  of  Pedrarias.  As  to  the  perfidi 
ous  informer  Garabito.  he  was  pardoned  and  set  at  liber* 

In  considering  this  case,  as  far  as  we  are  enabled,  from  the 
imperfect  testimony  that  remains  on  record,  we  are  inclined  to 
think  it  one  where  passion  and  self-interest  interfered  with  the 
pure  administration  of  justice.  Pedrarias  had  always  consid 
ered  Yasco  Nunez  as  a  dangerous  rival,  and.  though  his  jeal- 
had  been  for  some  time  lulled  by  looking  on  him  as  an 
intended  son-in-law,  it  ~-as  revived  by  the  suggestion  that  he 
intended  to  evade  his  alliance,  and  to  dispute  his  authority. 
His  exasperated  feelings  hurried  him  too  far  to  retreat,  and. 
having  loaded  his  prisoner  with  chains  and  indignities,  his 
death  became  indispensable  to  his  own  security. 

our  own  part,  we  have  little  doubt  that  it  was  the  fixed 
intention  of  Yasco  Nunez,  after  he  had  once  succeeded  in 
the  arduous  undertaking  of  transporting  his  ships  across  the 
mountains,  to  suffer  no  capricious  order  from  Pedrari :.- 
any  other  governor,  to  defeat  the  enterprise  which  he  had  so 
long  meditated,  and  for  which  he  had  so  laboriously  prepared. 
r»robable  he  may  have  expressed  such  general  determina' 


VASCO  yUXEZ  DE  BALBOA.  177 

tion  in  the  hearing  of  Garabito  and  of  others  of  his  companions. 
AY.-  can  find  ample  excuse  for  such  a  resolution  in  his  con 
sciousness  of  his  own  deserts ;  his  experience  of  past  hindrances 
to  his  expedition,  arising  from  the  jealousy  of  others ;  his  feel 
ing  of  some  degree  of  authority,  from  his  office  of  Adelantado ; 
and  his  knowledge  of  the  favourable  disposition  and  kind 
intentions  of  his  sovereign  towards  him.  We  acquit  him 
entirely  of  the  senseless  idea  of  rebelling  against  the  crown; 
and  suggest  these  considerations  in  palliation  of  any  meditated 
disobedience  of  Pedrarias.  should  such  a  charge  be  supposed  to 
have  been  substantiated. 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

EXECUTION  OF  VASCO   MTXEZ.— (1517.) 

IT  was  a  day  of  gloom  and  horror  at  Acla.  when  Vasco  Nunez 
and  his  companions  were  led  forth  to  execution.  The  populace 
were  moved  to  tears  at  the  unhappy  fate  of  a  man  whose  gal 
lant  deeds  had  excited  their  admiration,  and  whose  generous 
qualities  had  won  their  hearts.  Most  of  them  regarded  him  as 
the  victim  of  a  jealous  tyrant :  and  even  those  who  thought 
him  guilty,  saw  something  brave  and  brilliant  in  the  very  crime 
imputed  to  him.  Such,  however,  was  the  general  dread  inspired 
by  the  severe  measures  of  Pedrarias.  that  no  one  dared  to  lift 
up  his  voice,  either  in  murmur  or  remonstrance. 

The  public  crier  walked  before  Vasco  Xuriez.  proclaiming. 
"This  is  the  punishment  inflicted  by  command  of  the  king  and 
his  lieutenant.  Don  Pedrarias  Davila.  on  this  man.  as  a  traitor 
and  an  usurper  of  the  territories  of  the  crown." 

"When  Vasco  Xuriez  heard  these  words,  he  exclaimed  indig 
nantly.  ••  It  is  false :  never  did  such  a  crime  enter  my  mind.  I 
have  ever  served  my  king  with  truth  and  loyalty,  and  sought 
to  augment  his  dominions." 

These  words  were  of  no  avail  in  his  extremity,  but  they  were 
fully  believed  by  the  populace. 

The  execution  took  place  in  the  public  square  of  Acla :  and 
we  are  assured  by  the  historian.  Oviedo.  who  was  in  the  colony 
at  the  time,  that  the  cruel  Pedrarias  was  a  secret  witiu  as  : 
the  bloody  spectacle,  which  he  contemplated  from  between  tluj 


178  SPANISH   VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY.     , 

reeds  of  the  wall  of  a  house,  about  twelve  paces  from  the  scaf 
fold!* 

Vasco  Nunez  was  the  first  to  suffer  death.  Having  confessed 
himself  and  partaken  of  the  sacrament,  he  ascended  the  scaffold 
with  a  firm  step  and  a  calm  and  manly  demeanour ;  and  lay 
ing  his  head  upon  the  block,  it  was  severed  in  an  instant  from 
his  body.  Three  of  his  officers,  Valderrabano,  Botello,  and 
Hernan  Muiios,  were  in  like  manner  brought  one  by  one  to  the 
block,  and  the  day  had  nearly  expired  before  the  last  of  them 
was  executed. 

One  victim  still  remained.  It  was  Hernan  de  Arguello,  who 
had  been  condemned  as  an  accomplice,  for  having  written  the 
intercepted  letter. 

The  populace  could  no  longer  restrain  their  feelings.  They 
had  not  dared  to  intercede  for  Vasco  Nunez,  knowing  the  im 
placable  enmity  of  Pedrarias ;  but  they  now  sought  the  gover 
nor,  and  throwing  themselves  at  his  feet,  entreated  that  this 
man  might  be  spared,  as  he  had  taken  no  active  part  in  the 
alleged  treason.  The  daylight,  they  said,  was  at  an  end,  and  it 
seemed  as  if  God  had  hastened  the  night,  to  prevent  the  execu 
tion. 

The  stern  heart  of  Pedrarias  was  not  to  be  touched.  "  No," 
said  he,  "I  would  sooner  die  myself  than  spare  one  of  them." 
The  unfortunate  Arguello  was  led  to  the  block.  The  brief 
tropical  twilight  was  past,  and  in  the  gathering  gloom  of  the 
night  the  operations  on  the  scaffold  could  not  be  distinguished. 
The  multitude  stood  listening  in  breathless  silence,  until  the 
stroke  of  the  executioner  told  that  all  was  accomplished.  They 
then  dispersed  to  their  homes  with  hearts  filled  with  grief  and 
bitterness,  and  a  night  of  lamentation  succeeded  to  this  day  of 
horrors. 

The  vengeance  of  Pedrarias  was  not  satisfied  with  the  death 
of  his  victim ;  he  confiscated  his  property  and  dishonoured  his 
remains,  causing  his  head  to  be  placed  upon  a  pole  and  exposed 
for  several  days  in  the  public  square,  f 

Thus  perished,  in  his  forty-second  year,  in  the  prime  and 
vigour  of  his  days  and  the  full  career  of  his  glory,  one  of  the 
most  illustrious  and  deserving  of  the  Spanish  discoverers— a 
victim  to  the  basest  and  most  perfidious  envy. 

How  vain  are  our  most  confident  hopes,  our  brightest  tri 
umphs!  When  Vasco  Nunez  from  the  mountains  of  Darien 

*  Oviedo,  Hist.  Ind.  p.  2,  c.  9,  MS.  t  Oviedo,  ubi  sup. 

I 


VA8CO  NUNEZ  DE  BALBOA.  179 

beheld  the  Southern  Ocean  revealed  to  his  gaze,  he  considered 
its  unknown  realms  at  his  disposal.  When  he  had  launched 
his  ships  upon  its  waters,  and  his  sails  were  in  a  manner  nap 
ping  in  the  wind,  to  bear  him  in  quest  of  the  wealthy  empire  of 
Peru,  he  scoffed  at  the  prediction  of  the  astrologer,  and  defied 
the  influence  of  the  stars.  Behold  him  interrupted  at  the  very 
moment  of  his  departure ;  betrayed  into  the  hands  of  his  most 
invidious  foe ;  the  very  enterprise  that  was  to  have  crowned 
liim  with  glory  wrested  into  a  crime ;  and  himself  hurried  to  a 
bloody  and  ignominious  grave,  at  the  foot,  as  it  were,  of  the 
mountain  from  whence  he  had  made  his  discovery !  His  fate, 
like  that  of  his  renowned  predecessor,  Columbus,  proves  that 
it  is  sometimes  dangerous  even  to  discern  too  greatly ! 


180  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  VALDIVIA  AND  HIS  COM 
PANIONS. 


IT  was  in  the  year  1512  that  Valdivia,  the  regidor  of  Darien, 
was  sent  to  Hispaniola  by  Vasco  Nimez  de  Balboa  for  rein 
forcements  and  supplies  for  the  colony.  He  set  sail  in  a  cara 
vel,  and  pursued  his  voyage  prosperously  until  he  arrived  in 
sight  of  the  Island  of  Jamaica.  Here  he  was  encountered  by 
one  of  the  violent  hurricanes  which  sweep  those  latitudes,  and 
driven  on  the  shoals  and  sunken  rocks  called  the  Vipers,  since 
infamous  for  many  a  shipwreck.  His  vessel  soon  went  to 
pieces,  and  Valdivia  and  his  crew,  consisting  of  twenty  men, 
escaped  with  difficulty  in  the  boat,  without  having  time  to 
secure  a  supply  either  of  water  or  provisions.  Having  no  sails, 
and  their  oars  being  scarcely  fit  for  use,  they  were  driven 
about  for  thirteen  days,  at  the  mercy  of  the  currents  of  those 
unknown  seas.  During  this  time  their  sufferings  from  hunger 
and  thirst  were  indescribable.  Seven  of  their  number  perished, 
and  the  rest  were  nearly  famished,  when  they  were  stranded 
on  the  eastern  coast  of  Yucatan,  in  a  province  called  Maya. 
Here  they  were  set  upon  by  the  natives,  who  broke  their  boat 
in  pieces,  and  carried  them  off  captive  to  the  cacique  of  the 
province,  by  whose  orders  they  .were  mewed  up  in  a  kind  of 
pen. 

At  first  their  situation  appeared  tolerable  enough  considering 
the  horrors  from  which  they  had  escaped.  They  were  closely 
confined,  it  is  true,  but  they  had  plenty  to  eat  and  drink,  and 
soon  began  to  recover  flesh  and  vigour.  In  a  little  while,  how 
ever,  their  enjoyment  of  this  good  cheer  met  with  a  sudden 
check,  for  the  unfortunate  Valdivia,  and  four  of  his  companions, 
were  singled  out  by  the  cacique,  on  account  of  their  improved 
condition,  to  be  offered  up  to  his  idols.  The  natives  of  this 
coast  in  fact  were  cannibals,  devouring  the  flesh  of  their  enemies 
and  of  such  strangers  as  fell  into  their  hands.  The  wretched 
Valdivia  and  his  fellow  victims,  therefore,  were  sacrificed  in 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  VALDIVIA.  181 

the  bloody  temple  of  the  idol,  and  their  limbs  afterwards  served 
up  at  a  grand  feast  held  by  the  cacique  and  his  subjects. 

The  horror  of  the  survivors  may  be  more  readily  imagined 
than  described.  Their  hearts  died  within  them  when  they 
heard  the  yells  and  howlings  of  the  savages  over  their  victims, 
and  the  still  more  horrible  revelry  of  their  cannibal  orgies. 
They  turned  with  loathing  from  the  food  set  so  abundantly  be 
fore  them,  at  the  idea  that  it  was  but  intended  to  fatten  them 
for  a  future  banquet. 

Recovering  from  the  first  stupor  of  alarm,  their  despair  lent 
them  additional  force.  They  succeeded  in  breaking,  in  the 
night,  from  the  kind  of  cage  in  which  they  were  confined,  and 
fled  to  the  depths  of  the  forest.  Here  they  wandered  about 
forlorn,  exposed  to  all  the  dangers  and  miseries  of  the  wilder 
ness;  famishing  with  hunger,  yet  dreading  to  approach  the 
haunts  of  men.  At  length  their  sufferings  drove  them  forth 
from  the  woods  into  another  part  of  the  country,  where  they 
were  again  taken  captive.  The  cacique  of  this  province,  how 
ever,  was  an  enemy  to  the  one  from  whom  they  had  escaped, 
and  of  less  cruel  propensities.  He  spared  their  lives,  and  con 
tented  himself  with  making  them  slaves,  exacting  from  them 
the  severest  labour.  They  had  to  cut  and  draw  wood,  to  pro 
cure  water  from  a  distance,  and  to  carry  enormous  burthens. 
Tha  cacique  died  soon  after  their  capture,  and  was  succeeded 
by  another  called  Taxmar.  He  was  a  chief  of  some  talent  and 
sagacity,  but  he  continued  the  same  rigorous  treatment  of  the 
captives.  By  degrees  they  sank  beneath  the  hardships  of  their 
lot,  until  only  two  were  left;  one  of  them,  a  sturdy  sailor 
named  Gonzalo  Guerrero,  the  other  a  kind  of  clerical  adven 
turer,  named  Jeronimo  de  Aguilar.  The  sailor  had  the  good 
luck  to  be  transferred  to  the  service  of  the  cacique  of  the  neigh 
bouring  province  of  Chatemal,  by  whom  he  was  treated  with 
kindness.  Being  a  thorough  son  of  the  ocean,  seasoned  to  all 
weathers,  and  ready  for  any  chance  or  change,  he  soon  accom 
modated  himself  to  his  new  situation,  followed  the  cacique  to 
the  wars,  rose  by  his  hardihood  and  prowess  to  be  a  distin 
guished  warrior,  and  succeeded  in  gaining  the  heart  and  hand 
of  an  Indian  princess. 

The  other  survivor,  Jeronimo  de  Aguilar,  was  of  a  different 
complexion.  He  was  a  native  of  Ecija  in  Andalusia.,  and  had 
been  brought,  up  to  the  church  and  regularly  ordained,  and 
shortly  afterwards  had  sailed  in  one  of  the  expeditions  to  San 
Domingo,  from  whence  he  had  passed  to  Darien. 


182  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

He  proceeded  in  a  different  mode  from  that  adopted  by  his 
comrade  the  sailor  in  his  dealings  with  the  Indians,  and  in  one 
more  suited  to  his  opposite  calling.  Instead  of  playing  the  hero 
among  the  men  and  the  gallant  among  the  women,  he  recol 
lected  his  priestly  obligations  to  humility  and  chastity.  Ac 
cordingly,  he  made  himself  a  model  of  meekness  and  obedi 
ence  to  the  cacique  and  his  warriors,  while  he  closed  his  eyes 
to  the  charms  of  the  infidel  women.  Nay,  in  the  latter  re 
spect,  he  reinforced  his  clerical  vows  by  a  solemn  promise  to 
God  to  resist  all  temptations  of  the  flesh  so  he  might  be  deliv 
ered  out  of  the  hands  of  these  Gentiles. 

Such  were  the  opposite  measures  of  the  sailor  and  the  saint, 
and  they  appear  to  have  been  equally  successful.  Aguilar,  by 
his  meek  obedience  to  every  order,  however  arbitrary  and 
capricious,  gradually  won  the  good- will  of  the  cacique  and  his 
family.  Taxmar,  however,  subjected  him  to  many  trials  be 
fore  he  admitted  him  to  his  entire  confidence.  One  day  when 
the  Indians,  painted  and  decorated  in  warlike  style,  were 
shooting  at  a  mark,  a  warrior,  who  had  for  some  time  fixed 
his  eyes  on  Aguilar,  approached  suddenly  and  seized  him  by 
the  arm.  "  Thou  seest,"  said  he,  "  the  certainty  of  .these  arch 
ers  ;  if  they  aim  at  the  eye,  they  hit  the  eye — if  at  the  mouth, 
they  hit  the  mouth— what  wouldst  thou  think  if  thou  wert  to 
be  placed  instead  of  the  mark  and  they  were  to  shoot  at  and 
miss  thee?" 

Aguilar  secretly  trembled  lest  he  should  be  the  victim  of 
some  cruel  caprice  of  the  kind.  Dissembling  his  fears,  how 
ever,  he  replied  with  great  submission,  ' '  I  am  your  slave  and 
you  may  do  with  me  as  you  please,  but  you  are  too  wise  to 
destroy  a  slave  who  is  so  useful  and  obedient."  His  answer 
pleased  the  cacique,  who  had  secretly  sent  this  warrior  to  try 
his  humility. 

Another  trial  of  the  worthy  Jeronimo  was  less  stern  and 
fearful  indeed,  but  equally  perplexing.  The  cacique  had  re 
marked  his  unexampled  discretion  with  respect  to  the  sex,  but 
doubted  his  sincerity.  After  laying  many  petty  temptations 
in  his  way,  which  Jeronimo  resisted  with  the  self-denial  of  a 
saint,  he  at  length  determined  to  subject  him  to  a  fiery  ordeal. 
He  accordingly  sent  him  on  a  fishing  expedition  accompanied 
by  a  buxom  damsel  of  fourteen  years  of  age ;  they  were  to  pass 
the  night  by  the  sea-side,  so  as  to  be  ready  to  fish  at  the  first 
dawn  of  day,  and  were  allowed  but  one  hammock  to  sleep  in. 
It  was  an  embarrassing  predicament  not  apparently  to  the 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  VALDIVIA.  183 

Indian  beauty,  but  certainly  to  the  scrupulous  Jeronimo.  He 
remembered,  however,  his  double  vow,  and,  suspending  his 
hammock  to  two  trees,  resigned  it  to  his  companion;  while, 
lighting  a  fire  on  the  sea-shore,  he  stretched  himself  before  it 
on  the  sand.  It  was,  as  he  acknowledged,  a  night  of  fearful 
trial,  for  his  sandy  couch  was  cold  and  cheerless,  the  hammock 
warm  and  tempting;  and  the  infidel  damsel  had  been  in 
structed  to  assail  him  with  all  manner  of  blandishments  and 
reproaches.  His  resolution,  however,  though  often  shaken, 
was  never  overcome ;  and  the  morning  dawned  upon  him  still 
faithful  to  his  vow. 

The  fishing  over,  he  returned  to  the  residence  of  the  cacique, 
where  his  companion,  being  closely  questioned,  made  known 
the  triumph  of  his  self-denial  before  all  the  people.  From  that 
time  forward  he  was  held  in  great  respect ;  tke  cacique  espe 
cially  treated  him  with  unlimited  confidence,  entrusting  to  htm 
the  care  not  merely  of  his  house,  but  of  his  wives  during  his 
occasional  absence. 

Aguilar  now  felt  ambitious  of  rising  to  greater  consequence 
among  the  savages,  but  this  he  knew  was  only  to  be  done  by 
deeds  of  arms.  He  had  the  example  of  the  sturdy  seaman, 
Gonzalo  Guerrero,  before  his  eyes,  who  had  become  a  great 
captain  in  the  province  in  which  he  resided.  He  entreated 
Taxmar,  therefore,  to  entrust  him  with  bow  and  arrows,  buck 
ler  and  war-club,  and  to  enroll  him  among  his  warriors.  The 
cacique  complied.  Aguilar  soon  made  himself  expert  at  his 
new  weapons,  signalized  himself  repeatedly  in  battle,  and 
from  his  superior  knowledge  of  the  arts  of  war,  rendered  Tax- 
mar  such  essential  service,  as  to  excite  the  jealousy  of  some  of 
the  neighbouring  caciques.  One  of  them  remonstrated  with 
Taxmar  for  employing  a  warrior  who  was  of  a  different  religion, 
and  insisted  that  Aguilar  should  be  sacrificed  to  their  gods. 
"No,"  replied  Taxmar,  "I  will  not  make  so  base  a  return 
for  such  signal  services;  surely  the  gods  of  Aguilar  must  be 
good,  since  they  aid  him  so  effectually  in  maintaining  a  just 
cause." 

The  cacique  was  so  incensed  at  this  reply  that  he  assembled 
his  warriors  and  marched  to  make  war  upon  Taxmar.  Many 
of  the  counsellors  of  the  latter  urged  him  to  give  up  the 
stranger  who  was  the  cause  of  this  hostility.  Taxmar,  how 
ever,  rejected  their  counsel  with  disdain  and  prepared  for  bat 
tle.  Aguilar  assured  him  that  his  faith  in  the  Christian's  God 
would  be  rewarded  with  victory ;  he,  in  fact,  concerted  a  plarr 


184  SPANISH   VOYAGES   OF  DISCOVERY. 

of  battle  which  was  adopted.  Concealing  himself  with  a 
chosen  band  of  warriors  among  thickets  and  herbage,  he  suf 
fered  the  enemy  to  pass  by  in  making  their  attack.  Taxmar 
and  his  host  pretended  to  give  way  at  the  first  onset.  The  foe 
rushed  heedlessly  in  pursuit ;  whereupon  Aguilar  and  his  am 
buscade  assaulted  them  in  the  rear.  Taxmar  turned  upon 
them  in  front;  they  were  thrown  in  confusion,  routed  with 
great  slaughter,  and  many  of  their  chiefs  taken  prisoners. 
This  victory  gave  Taxmar  the  sway  over  the  land,  and 
strengthened  Aguilar  more  than  ever  in  his  good  graces. 

Several  years,  had  elapsed  in  this  manner,  when,  in  1517, 
intelligence  was  brought  to  the  province  of  the  arrival  on  the 
neighbouring  coast  of  great  vessels  of  wonderful  construction, 
filled  with  white  and  bearded  men,  who  fought  with  thunder 
and  lightning.  It  was,  in  fact,  the  squadron  of  Francisco 
Hernandez  de  Cordova,  then  on  a  voyage  of  discovery.  The 
tidings  of  this  strange  invasion  spread  consternation  through 
foe  country,  heightened,  if  we  may  credit  the  old  Spanish 
writers,  by  a  prophecy  current  among  the  savages  of  these 
parts,  and  uttered  in  former  times  by  a  priest  named  Chilam 
Jambal,  who  foretold  that  a  white  and  bearded  people  would 
some  from  the  region  of  the  rising  sun,  who  would  overturn 
tfieir  idols  and  subjugate  the  land. 

The  heart  of  Jeronimo  de  Aguilar  beat  quick  with  hope  when 
4e  heard  of  European  ships  at  hand ;  he  was  distant  from  the 
joast,  however,  and  perceived  that  he  was  too  closely  watched 
6y  the  Indians  to  have  any  chance  of  escape.  Dissembling  his 
feelings,  therefore,  he  affected  to  hear  of  the  ships  with  per 
fect  indifference,  and  to  have  no  desire  to  join  f-he  strangers. 
The  ships  disappeared  from  the  coast,  and  he  remained  dis 
consolate  at  heart,  but  was  regarded  with  increased  confidence 
by  the  natives. 

His  hopes  were  again  revived  in  the  course  of  a  year  or  two 
by  the  arrival  on  the  coast  of  other  ships,  which  were  those 
commanded  by  Juan  de  Grijalva,  who  coasted  Yucatan  in 
1518;  Aguilar,  however,  was  again  prevented  by  the  jealous 
watchfulness  of  the  Indians  from  attempting  his  escape,  and 
when  this  squadron  left  the  coast  he  considered  all  chance  of 
deliverance  at  an  end. 

Seven  years  had  gone  by  since  his  capture,  and  he  had  given 
up  all  hopes  of  being  restored  to  his  country  and  friends,  when, 
in  1519,  there  arrived  one  day  at  the  village  three  Indians, 
natives  of  the  small  island  of  Cozumel,  which  lies  a  few 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  VALDIVIA.  185 

leagues  in  the  sea,  opposite  the  eastern  coast  of  Yucatan. 
They  brought  tidings  of  another  visit  of  white  bearded  men 
to  their  shores,  and  one  of  them  delivered  a  letter  to  Aguilar, 
which,  being  entirely  naked,  he  had  concealed  it  in  the  long 
tresses  of  his  hair  which  were  bound  round  his  head. 

Aguilar  received  the  letter  with  wonder  and  delight,  and 
read  it  in  presence  of  the  cacique  and  his  warriors.  It  proved 
to  be  from  Hernando  Cortez,  who  was  at  that  time  on  his 
great  expedition,  which  ended  in  the  conquest  of  Mexico.  He 
had  been  obliged  by  stress  of  weather  to  anchor  at  the  island 
of  Cozumel,  where  he  learned  from  the  natives  that  several 
white  men  were  detained  in  captivity  among  the  Indians  on 
the  neighbouring  coast  of  Yucatan.  Finding  it  impossible  to 
approach  the  mainland  with  his  ships,  he  prevailed  upon  three 
of  the  islanders,  by  means  of  gifts  and  promises,  to  venture' 
upon  an  embassy  among  their  cannibal  neighbours,  and  to 
convey  a  letter  to  the  captive  white  men.  Two  of  the  smallest 
caravels  of  the  squadron  were  sent  under  the  command  of 
Diego  de  Ordas,  •  vho  was  ordered  to  land  the  three  messengers 
at  the  point  of  Cotoche,  and  to  wait  there  eight  days  for  their 
return. 

The  letter  brought  by  these  envoys  informed  the  Christian 
captives  of  the  force  and  destination  of  the  squadron  of  Cortez, 
and  of  his  having  sent  the  caravels  to  wait  for  them  at  the 
point  of  Cotoche,  with  a  ransom  for  their  deliverance,  inviting 
them  to  hasten  and  join  him  at  Cozumel. 

The  transport  of  Aguilar  on  first  reading  the  letter  was  mod 
erated  when  he  reflected  on  the  obstacles  that  might  prevent 
him  from  profiting  by  this  chance  of  deliverance.  He  had 
made  himself  too  useful  to  the  cacique  to  hope  that  he  would 
readily  give  him  his  liberty,  and  he  knew  the  jealous  and  irri 
table  nature  of  the  savages  too  well  not  to  fear  that  even  an 
application  for  leave  to  depart  might  draw  upon  him  the 
severest  treatment.  He  endeavoured,  therefore,  to  operate 
upon  the  cacique  through  his  apprehensions.  To  this  end  he 
informed  him  that  the  piece  of  paper  which  he  held  in  his 
hand  brought  him  a  full  account  of  the  mighty  armament  that 
had  arrived  on  the  coast.  He  described  the  number  of  the 
ships  and  various  particulars  concerning  the  squadron,  all 
which  were  amply  corroborated  by  the  testimony  of  the  mes 
sengers.  The  cacique  and  his  warriors  were  astonished  at  this 
strange  mode  of  conveying  intelligence  from  a  distance,  and 
regarded  the  letter  as  something  mysterious  and  supernatural. 


186  SPANISH   VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERT. 

Aguilar  went  on  to  relate  the  tremendous  and  superhuman 
powers  of  the  people  in  these  ships,  who,  armed  with  thunder 
and  lightning,  wreaked  destruction  on  all  who  displeased 
them,  while  they  dispensed  inestimable  gifts  and  benefits  on 
such  as  proved  themselves  their  friends.  He  at  the  same  time 
spread  before  the  cacique  various  presents  brought  by  the 
messengers,  as  specimens  of  the  blessings  to  be  expected  from 
the  friendship  of  the  strangers.  The  intimation  was  effectual. 
The  cacique  was  filled  with  awe  at  the  recital  of  the  terrific 
powers  of  the  white  men,  and  his  eyes  were  dazzled  by  the 
glittering  trinkets  displayed  before  him.  He  entreated  Aguilar, 
therefore,  to  act  as  his  ambassador  and  mediator,  and  to 
secure  him  the  amity  of  the  strangers. 

Aguilar  saw  with  transport  the  prospect  of  a  speedy  deliver 
ance.  In  this  moment  of  exultation,  he  bethought  himself  of 
the  only  surviving  comrade  of  his  past  fortunes,  Gonzalo 
Guerrero,  and,  sending  the  letter  of  Cortez  to  him,  invited 
him  to  accompany  him  in  his  escape.  The  sturdy  seaman 
was  at  this  time  a  great  chieftain  in  his  province,  and  his 
Indian  bride  had  borne  him  a  numerous  progeny.  His  heart, 
however,  yearned  after  his  native  country,  and  he  might  have 
been  tempted  to  leave  his  honours  and  dignities,  his  infidel 
wife  and  lialf-savage  offspring  behind  him,  but  an  insuperable, 
though  somewhat  ludicrous,  obstacle  presented  itself  to  his 
wishes.  Having  long  since  given  over  all  expectation  of  a 
return  to  civilized  life,  he  had  conformed  to  the  customs  of 
the  country,  and  had  adopted  the  external  signs  and  decora 
tions  that  marked  him  as  a  warrior  and  a  man  of  rank.  His 
face  and  hands  were  indelibly  painted  or  tattooed ;  his  ears 
and  lips  were  slit  to  .admit  huge  Indian  ornaments,  and  his 
nose  was  drawn  down  almost  to  his  mouth  by  a  massy  ring  of 
gold,  and  a  dangling  jewel. 

Thus  curiously  garbled  and  disfigured,  the  honest  seaman 
felt,  that  however  he  might  be  admired  in  Yucatan,  he  should 
be  apt  to  have  the  rabble  at  his  heels  in  Spain.  He  made  up 
his  mind,  therefore,  to  remain  a  great  man  among  the  sav 
ages,  rather  than  run  the  risk  of  being  shown  as  a  man- 
monster  at  home. 

Finding  that  he  declined  accompanying  him,  Jeronimo  de 
Aguilar  set  off  for  the  point  of  Cotoche,  escorted  by  three 
Indians.  The  time  he  had  lost  in  waiting  for  Guerrero  had 
nearly  proved  fatal  to  his  hopes,  for  when  he  arrived  at  the 
point,  the  caravels  sent  by  Cortez  had  departed,  though  sev- 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  VALDIVIA.  187 

eral  crosses  of  reeds  set  up  in  different  places  gave  tokens  of 
the  recent  presence  of  Christians. 

The  only  hope  that  remained,  was  that  the  squadron  of 
Cortez  might  yet  linger  at  the  opposite  island  of  Cozumel ;  but 
how  was  he  to  get  there?  While  wandering  disconsolately  along 
the  shore,  he  found  a  canoe,  half  buried  in  sand  and  water, 
and  with  one  side  in  a  state  of  decay ;  with  the  assistance  of 
the  Indians  he  cleaned  it,  and  set  it  afloat,  and  on  looking 
further  he  found  the  stave  of  a  hogshead  which  might  serve 
for  a  paddle.  It  was  a  frail  embarkation  in  which  to  cross  an 
arm  of  the  sea,  seven  leagues  wide,  but  there  was  no  alter 
native.  Prevailing  on  the  Indians  to  accompany  him,  he 
launched  forth  in  the  canoe  and  coasted  the  main  land  until 
he  came  to  the  narrowest  part  of  the  strait,  where  it  was  but 
four  leagues  across ;  here  he  stood  directly  for  Cozumel,  con 
tending,  as  well  as  he  was  able,  with  a  strong  current,  and  at 
length  succeeded  in  reaching  the  island. 

He  had  scarce  landed  when  a  party  of  Spaniards,  who  had 
been  lying  in  wait,  rushed  forth  from  their  concealment,  sword 
in  hand.  The  three  Indians  would  have  fled,  but  Aguilar  re 
assured  them,  and,  calling  out  to  the  Spaniards  in  their  own 
language,  assured  them  that  he  was  a  Christian.  Then  throw 
ing  himself  upon  his  knees,  and  raising  his  eyes,  streaming 
with  tears,  to  heaven,  he  gave  thanks  to  God  for  having  re 
stored  him  to  his  countrymen. 

The  Spaniards  gazed  at  him  with  astonishment:  from  his 
language  he  was  evidently  a  Castilian,  but  to  all  appearance 
he  was  an  Indian.  He  was  perfectly  naked;  wore  his  hair 
braided  round  his  head  in  the  manner  of  the  country,  and  his 
complexion  was  burnt  by  the  sun  to  a  tawny  colour.  He  had 
a  bow  in  his  hand,  a  quiver  at  his  shoulder,  and  a  net-work 
pouch  at  his  side  in  which  he  carried  his  provisions. 

The  Spaniards  proved  to  be  a  reconnoitering  party,  sent  out 
by  Cortez  to  watch  the  approach  of  the  canoe,  which  had  been 
descried  coming  from  Yucatan.  Cortez  had  given  up  all  hopes 
of  being  joined  by  the  captives,  the  caravel  having  waited  the 
allotted  time  at  Cotoche,  and  returned  without  news  of  them. 
He  had,  in  fact,  made  sail  to  prosecute  his  voyage,  but  fortu 
nately  one  of  his  ships  had  sprung  a  leak,  which  had  obliged 
him  to  return  to  the  island. 

When  Jeronimo  de  Aguilar  and  his  companions  arrived  in 
presence  of  Cortez,  who  was  surrounded  by  his  officers,  they 
made  a  profound  reverence,  squatted  on  the  ground,  laid  their 


188  SPANISH   VOYAGES  OF  DISCO  VEllY. 

bows  and  arrows  beside  them,  and  touching  their  right  hands, 
wet  with  spittle,  on  the  ground,  rubbed  them  about  the  region 
of  the  heart,  such  being  their  sign  of  the  most  devoted  sub 
mission. 

Cortcz  greeted  Aguilar  with  a  hearty  welcome,  and  raising 
him  from  the  earth,  took  from  his  own  person  a  large  yellow 
mantle  lined  with  crimson,  and  threw  it  over  his  shoulders. 
The  latter,  however,  had  for  so  long  a  time  gone  entirely 
naked,  that  even  this  scanty  covering  was  at  first  almost  in 
supportable,  and  he  had  become  so  accustomed  to  the  diet  of 
the  natives,  that  he  found  it  difficult  to  reconcile  his  stomach 
to  the  meat  and  drink  set  before  him. 

When  he  had  sufficiently  recovered  from  the  agitation  of  his 
arrival  among  Christians,  Cortez  drew  from  him  the  particu 
lars  of  his  story,  and  found  that  he  was  related  to  one  of  his 
awn  friends,  the  licentiate  Marcos  de  Aguilar.  He  treated 
him,  therefore,  with  additional  kindness  and  respect,  and  re 
tained  him  about  his  person  to  aid  him  as  an  interpreter  in  his 
great  Mexican  expedition. 

The  happiness  of  Jeronimo  de  Aguilar  at  once  more  being 
restored  to  his  countrymen,  was  doomed  to  suffer  some  alloy 
from  the  disasters  that  had  happened  in  his  family.  Peter 
Martyr  records  a  touching  anecdote  of  the  effect  that  had  been 
produced  upon  his  mother  by  the  tidings  of  his  misfortune.  A 
vague  report  had  reached  her  in  Spain  that  her  son  had  fallen 
into  the  hands  of  cannibals.  All  the  horrible  tales  that  circu 
lated  in  Spain  concerning  the  treatment  of  these  savages  to 
their  prisoners,  rushed  to  her  imagination,  and  she  went  dis 
tracted.  Whenever  she  beheld  roasted  meat,  or  flesh  upon  the 
spit,  she  would  fill  the  house  with  her  outcries.  ' '  Oh,  wretched 
mother!  oh,  most  miserable  of  women!"  would  she  exclaim, 
"  behold  the  limbs  of  my  murdered  son."  * 

It  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  tidings  of  his  deliverance  had  a 
favourable  effect  upon  her  intellect,  and  that  she  lived  to  re 
joice  at  his  after-fortunes.  He  served  Hernando  Cortez  with 
great  courage  and  ability  throughout  his  Mexican  conquests, 
acting  sometimes  as  a  soldier,  sometimes  as  interpreter  and 
ambassador  to  the  Indians,  and,  in  reward  of  his  fidelity  and 
services,  was  appointed  regidor,  or  civil  governor  of  the  city 
of  Mexico. 

*  P.  Martyr,  decad.  4,  c.  6. 


NICER   CODRO,    THE  ASTROLOGER.  .      189 


MICER  CODRO,  THE  ASTROLOGER. 


THE  fate  of  the  Italian  astrologer,  Micer  Codro,  who  pre 
dicted  the  end  of  Vasco  Nunez,  is  related  by  the  historian 
Oviedo,  with  some  particulars  that  border  upon  the  marvel 
ous.  It  appears  that  after  the  death  of  his  patron,  he  con 
tinued  for  several  years  rambling  about  the  New  World  in  the 
train  of  the  Spanish  discoverers ;  but  intent  upon  studying  the 
secrets  of  its  natural  history,  rather  than  searching  after  its 
treasures. 

In  the  course  of  his  wanderings  he  was  once  coasting  the 
shores  of  the  Southern  ocean  in  a  ship  commanded  by  one 
Greronimo  de  Valenzuela,  from  whom  he  received  such  cruel 
treatment  as  to  cause  his  death,  though  what  the  nature  of  the 
treatment  was,  we  are  not  precisely  informed. 

Finding  his  end  approaching,  the  unfortunate  astrologer  ad 
dressed  Valenzuela  in  the  most  solemn  manner:  "Captain," 
said  he,  "you  have  caused  my  death  by  your  cruelty;  I  now 
summon  you  to  appear  with  me,  within  a  year,  before  the 
judgment  seat  of  God !" 

The  captain  made  a  light  and  scoffing  answer,  and  treated 
his  summons  with  contempt. 

They  were  then  off  the  coast  of  Veragua,  near  the  verdant 
islands  of  Zebaco,  which  lie  at  the  entrance  of  the  Gulf  of 
Paria.  The  poor  astrologer  gazed  wistfully  with  his  dying 
eyes  upon  the  green  and  shady  groves,  and  entreated  the  pilot 
or  mate  of  the  caravel  to  land  him  on  one  of  the  islands,  that 
he  might  die  in  peace.  "  Micer  Codro, "  replied  the  pilot,  ' '  those 
are  not  islands,  but  points  of  land ;  there  are  no  islands  here 
about." 

"There  are,  indeed,"  replied  the  astrologer,  "two  good  and 
pleasant  islands,  well  watered,  and  near  to  the  coast,  and 
within  them  is  a  great  bay  with  a  harbor.  Land  me,  I  pray 
you,  upon  one  of  these  islands,  that  I  may  have  comfort  in  my 
dying  hour." 


190  SPANISH    VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERT. 

The  pilot,  whose  rough  nature  had  been  touched  with  pity 
for  the  condition  of  the  unfortunate  astrologer,  listened  to  his 
prayer,  and  conveyed  him  to  the  shore,  where  he  found  the 
opinion  he  had  given  of  the  character  of  the  coast  to  be  cor 
rect.  He  laid  him  on  the  herbage  in  the  shade,  where  the  poor 
wanderer  soon  expired.  The  pilot  then  dug  a  grave  at  the  foot 
of  a  tree,  where  he  buried  him  with  all  possible  decency,  and, 
carved  a  cross  on  the  bark  to  mark  the  grave. 

Some  time  afterwards,  Oviedo,  the  historian,  was  on  the 
island  with  this  very  pilot,  who  showed  him  the  cross  on  the 
tree,  and  gave  his  honest  testimony  to  the  good  character  and 
worthy  conduct  of  Micer  Codro.  Oviedo,  as  he  regarded  the 
nameless  grave,  passed  the  eulogium  of  a  scholar  upon  the 
poor  astrologer:  "  He  died,"  says  he,  "like  Pliny,  in  the  dis 
charge  of  his  duties,  travelling  about  the  world  to  explore  the 
secrets  of  nature. "  According  to  his  account,  the  prediction 
of  Micer  Codro  held  good  with  respect  to  Valenzuela,  as  it  had 
in  the  case  of  Vasco  Nunez.  The  captain  died  within  the  term 
in  which  he  had  summoned  him  to  appear  before  the  tribunal 
of  God.* 

*  Vide  Oviedo,  Hist.  Gen.  1.  xxxtx.  «.  2 


JUAN  PONCE  DE  LEON.  191 


JUAN  PONCE  DE  LEON 

CONQUEROR  OF  PORTO  RICO  AND  DISCOVERER  OF  FLORIDA. 


CHAPTER  I. 

EECONNOITERING  EXPEDITION  OF    JUAN  PONCE  DE  LEON    TO  THE 
ISLAND  OF  BORIQUEN.  — (1508.) 

MANY  years  had  elapsed  since  the  discovery  and  coloniza 
tion  of  Hayti,  yet  its  neighbouring  island  of  Boriquen,  or,  as 
the  Spaniards  called  it,  St.  Juan,  (since  named  Porto  Rico,)  re 
mained  unexplored.  It  was  beautiful  to  the  eye  as  beheld 
Jtrom  the  sea,  having  lofty  mountains  clothed  with  forest  treefe 
of  prodigious  size  and  magnificent  foliage.  There  were  broad 
fertile  valleys  also,  always  fresh  and  green ;  for  the  frequent 
showers  and  abundant  streams  in  these  latitudes,  and  the  al> 
sence*of  all  wintry  frost,  produce  a  perpetual  verdure.  Various 
ships  had  occasionally  touched  at  the  island,  but  their  crews 
had  never  penetrated  into  the  interior.  It  was  evident,  how 
ever,  from  the  number  of  hamlets  and  scattered  houses,  and 
the  smoke  rising  in  all  directions  from  among  the  trees,  that  it 
was  well  peopled.  The  inhabitants  still  continued  to  enjoy 
their  life  of  indolence  and  freedom,  unmolested  by  the  ills  that 
overwhelmed  the  neighbouring  island  of  Hayti.  The  time  had 
arrived,  however,  when  they  were  to  share  the  common  lot  of 
their  fellow  savages,  and  to  sink  beneath  the  yoke  of  the  white 
man. 

At  the  time  when  Nicholas  de  Ovando,  Governor  of  Hispani- 
ola,  undertook  to  lay  waste  the  great  province  of  Higuey, 
which  lay  at  the  eastern  end  of  Hayti,  he  sent,  as  commander 
of  part  of  the  troops,  a  veteran  soldier  named  Juan  Ponce  de 
Leon.  He  was  a  native  of  Leon,  in  Spain,  and  in  his  boyhood 
had  been  page  to  Pedro  Nuiiez  de  Guzman,  Senor  of  Toral.* 

*Iacas,  Garcilaso  de  la  Vega,  Hist.  Florida,  t.  iv.  c.  37. 


192  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERT. 

From  an  early  age  he  had  been  schooled  to  war,  and  had  served 
in  the  various  campaigns  against  the  Moors  of  Granada.  He 
accompanied  Columbus  in  his  second  voyage  in  1493,  and  was 
afterwards,  it  is  said,  one  of  the  partisans  of  Francisco  Roldan, 
in  his  rebellion  against  the  admiral.  Having  distinguished  him 
self  in  various  battles  with  the  Indians,  and  acquired  a  name 
for  sagacity  as  well  as  valour,  he  received  a  command  subor 
dinate  to  Juan  de  Esquibel,  in  the  campaign  against  Higuey, 
and  seconded  his  chief  so  valiantly  in  that  sanguinary  expedi 
tion,  that  after  the  subjugation  of  the  province  he  was  ap 
pointed  to  the  command  of  it,  as  lieutenant  of  the  Governor  of 
Hispaniola. 

Juan  Ponce  de  Leon  had  all  the  impatience  of  quiet  life  and 
the  passion  for  exploit  of  a  veteran  campaigner.  He  had  not 
been  long  in  the  tranquil  command  of  his  province  of  Higuey, 
before  he  began  to  cast  a  wistful  eye  towards  the  green  moun 
tains  of  Boriquen.  They  were  directly  opposite,  and  but 
twelve  or  fourteen  leagues  distant,  so  as  to  be  distinctly  seen 
in  the  transparent  atmosphere  of  the  tropics.  The  Indians  of 
the  two  islands  frequently  visited  each  ot'her,  and  in  this  way 
Juan  Ponce  received  the  usual  intelligence  that  the  mountains 
ne  had  eyed  so  wistfully  abounded  with  gold.  He  readily  ob 
tained  permission  from  Governor  Ovando  to  make  an  expedi 
tion  to  this  island,  and  embarked  in  the  year  1508  in  a  caravel, 
with  a  few  Spaniards  and  several  Indian  interpreters  and 
guides. 

After  an  easy  voyage  he  landed  on  the  woody  shores  of  the 
island,  near  to  the  residence  of  the  principal  cacique,  Aguey- 
bana.  He  found  the  chieftain  seated  in  patriarchal  style  under 
the  shade  of  his  native  groves  and  surrounded  by  his  family, 
consisting  of  his  mother,  step-father,  brother,  and  sister,  who 
vied  with  each  other  in  paying  homage  to  the  strangers.  Juan 
Ponce,  in  fact,  was  received  into  the  bosom  of  the  family,  and 
the  cacique  exchanged  names  with  him,  which  is  the  Indian 
pledge  of  perpetual  amity.  Juan  Ponce  also  gave  Christian 
names  to  the  mother  and  step-father  of  the  cacique,  and  would 
fain  have  baptized  them,  but  they  declined  the  ceremony, 
though  they  always  took  a  pride  in  the  names  thus  given 
them. 

In  his  zeal  to  gratify  his  guests  the  cacique  took  them  to  vari 
ous  parts  of  the  island.  They  found  the  interior  to  correspond 
with  the  external  appearance.  It  was  wild  and  mountainous, 
but  magnificently  wooded,  with  deep  rich  valleys  fertilized  by 


JUAN  PONCE  DE  LEON.  193 

limpid  streams.  Juan  Ponce  requested  the  cacique  to  reveal 
to  him  the  riches  of  the  island.  The  simple  Indian  showed  him 
his  most  productive  fields  of  Yuca,  the  groves  laden  with  the 
most  delicious  fruit,  the  sweetest  and  purest  fountains,  and  the 
coolest  runs  of  water. 

Ponce  de  Leon  heeded  but  little  these  real  blessings,  and  de 
manded  whether  the  island  produced  no  gold.  Upon  this,  the 
cacique  conducted  him  to  two  rivers,  the  Manatuabon  and  the 
Zebuco,  where  the  very  pebbles  seemed  richly  veined  with  gold, 
and  large  grains  shone  among  the  sand  through  the  limpid 
water.  Some  of  the  largest  of  these  were  gathered  by  the  In 
dians  and  given  to  the  Spaniards.  The  quantity  thus  procured 
confirmed  the  hopes  of  Juan  Ponce ;  and  leaving  several  of  his 
companions  in  the  house  of  the  hospitable  cacique,  he  returned 
to  Hayti  to  report  the  success  of  his  expedition.  He  presented 
the  specimens  of  gold  to  the  Governor  Ovando,  who  assayed 
them  in  a  crucible.  The  ore  was  not  so  fine  as  that  of  Hispani- 
ola,  but  as  it  was  supposed  to  exist  in  greater  quantities,  the 
Governor  determined  on  the  subjugation  of  the  island,  and  con 
fided  the  enterprise  to  Juan  Ponce  de  Leon. 


CHAPTER  II. 

JUAN  PONCE  ASPIRES  TO  THE  GOVERNMENT  OF  PORTO  RICO.— 

(1509.) 

THE  natives  of  Boriquen  were  more  warlike  than  those  of 
Hispaniola ;  being  accustomed  to  the  use  of  arms  from  the  ne 
cessity  of  repelling  the  frequent  invasions  of  the  Caribs.  It 
was  supposed,  therefore,  that  the  conquest  of  their  island 
would  be  attended  with  some  difficulty,  and  Juan  Ponce  de 
Leon  made  another,  as  it  were  a  preparatory  visit,  to  make 
himself  acquainted  with  the  country,  and  with  the  nature  and 
resources  of  the  inhabitants.  He  found  the  companions,  whom 
he  had  left  there  on  his  foianer  visit,  in  good  health  and  spirits, 
and  full  of  gratitude  towards  the.  cacique  Agueybana,  who  had 
treated  them  with  undiminished  hospitality.  There  appeared 
to  be  no  need  of  violence  to  win  the  island  from  such  simple- 
hearted  and  confiding  people.  Juan  Ponce  flattered  himself 
with  the  hopes  of  being  appointed  to  its  government  by  Ovando, 

- 


194  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

and  of  bringing  it  peaceably  into  subjection.  After  remaining 
some  time  on  the  island,  he  returned  to  San  Domingo  to  seek 
the  desired  appointment,  but,  to  his  surprise,  found  the  whole 
face  of  affairs  had  changed  during  his  absence. 

His  patron,  the  Governor  Ovando,  had  been  recalled  to 
Spain,  and  Don  Diego  Columbus,  son  of  the  renowned  discov 
erer,  appointed  in  his  place  to  the  command  at  San  Domingo. 
To  add  to  the  perplexities  of  Juan  Ponce,  a  cavalier  had  already 
arrived  from  Spain,  empowered  by  the  king  to  form  a  settle 
ment  and  build  a  fortress  on  the  island  of  Porto  Rico.  His 
name  was  Christoval  de  Sotomayor;  he  was  brother  to  the 
Count  of  Camina,  and  had  been  secretary  to  Philip  I.,  sur- 
named  the  Handsome,  king  of  Castile,  and  father  of  Charles  V. 

Don  Diego  Columbus  was  highly  displeased  with  the  act  of 
the  king  in  granting  these  powers  to  Sotomayor,  as  it  had  been 
done  without  his  knowledge  and  consent,  and  of  course  in  dis 
regard  of  his  prerogative  as  viceroy,  to  be  consulted  as  to  all 
appointments  made  within  his  jurisdiction.  He  refused,  there 
fore,  to  put  Sotomayor  in  possession  of  the  island.  He  paid  as 
little  respect  to  the  claims  of  Juan  Ponce  de  Leon,  whom  he 
regarded  with  an  ungracious  eye  as  a  favourite  of  his  prede 
cessor  Ovando.  To  settle  the  matter  effectually,  he  exerted 
what  he  considered  his  official  and  hereditary  privilege,  and 
chose  officers  to  suit  himself,  appointing  one  Juan  Ceron  to  the 
government  of  Porto  Rico,  and  Miguel  Diaz  to  serve  as  his 
lieutenant.* 

Juan  Ponce  de  Leon  and  his  rival  candidate,  Christoval  de 
Sotomayor,  bore  their  disappointment  with  a  good  grace. 
Though  the  command  was  denied  them,  they  still  hoped  to  im 
prove  their  fortunes  in  the  island,  and  accordingly  joined  the 
crowd  of  adventurers  that  accompanied  the  newly  appointed 
governor. 

New  changes  soon  took  place  in  consequence  of  the  jealousies 
and  misunderstandings  between  King  Ferdinand  and  the  admi 
ral  as  to  points  of  privilege.  The  former  still  seemed  disposed  to 
maintain  the  right  of  making  appointments  without  consulting 
Don  Diego,  and  exerted  it  in  the  present  instance ;  for,  when 
Ovando,  on  his  return  to  Spain,  made  favourable  representation 
of  the  merits  of  Juan  Ponce  de  Leon,  and  set  forth  his  services 


*  If  the  reader  has  perused  the  history  of  Columbus,  he  may  remember  the  ro 
mantic  adventure  of  this  Miguel  Diaz  with  a  female  cacique,  which  led  to  the  dis 
covery  of  the  gold  mines  of  Hayna,  and  the  founding  of  the  city  of  San  Domingo. 


JUAN  PONCE  DE  LEON.  195 

in  exploring  Porto  Eico,  the  king  appointed  him  governor  of 
that  island,  and  signified  specifically  that  Don  Diego  Columbus 
should  not  presume  to  displace  him. 


CHAPTER  III. 

JUAN  PONCE  RULES  WITH  A  STRONG  HAND— EXASPERATION  OF 
THE  INDIANS — THEIR  EXPERIMENT  TO  PROVE  WHETHER  THE 
SPANIARDS  WERE  MORTAL. 

JUAN  PONCE  DE  LEON  assumed  the  command  of  the  island 
of  Boriquen  in  the  year  1509.  Being  a  fiery,  high-handed  old 
soldier,  his  first  step  was  to  quarrel  with  Juan  Ceron  and 
Miguel  Diaz,  the  ex-governor  and  his  lieutenant,  and  to  send 
them  prisoners  to  Spain.* 

He  was  far  more  favourable  to  his  late  competitor,  Christoval 
de  Sotomayor.  Finding  him  to  be  a  cavalier  of  noble  blood 
and  high  connexions,  yet  void  of  pretension,  and  of  most  ac 
commodating  temper,  he  offered  to  make  him  his  lieutenant, 
and  to  give  him  the  post  of  Alcalde  Mayor,  an  offer  which  was 
very  thankfully  accepted. 

The  pride  of  rank,  however,  which  follows  a  man  even  into 
the  wilderness,  soon  interfered  with  the  quiifc  of  Sotomayor  ; 
he  was  ridiculed  for  descending  so  much  below  his  birth  and 
dignity,  as  to  accept  a  subaltern  situation  to  a  simple  gentleman 
in  the  island  which  he  had  originally  aspired  to  govern.  He 
could  not  withstand  these  sneers,*  but  resigned  his  appointment, 
and  remained  in  the  island  as  a  private  individual ;  establishing 
himself  in  a  village  where  ne  had  a  large  repartimiento  or  allot 
ment  of  Indians  assigned  to  him  by  a  grant  from  the  king. 

Juan  Ponce  fixed  his  seat  of  government  in  a  town  called 
Caparra,  which  he  founded  on  the  northern  side  of  the  island, 
about  a  league  from  the  sea,  in  a  neighbourhood  supposed  to 
abound  in  gold.  It  was  in  front  of  the  port  caUed  Rico,  which 
subsequently  gave  its  name  to  the  island.  The  road  to  the 
town  was  up  a  mountain,  through  a  dense  forest,  and  so  rugged 
and  miry  that  it  was  the  bane  of  man  and  beast.  It  cost  more 
to  convey  provisions  and  merchandise  up  this  league  of  moun 
tain  than  it  had  to  bring  them  from  Spain. 

*  Herrera,  decad.  1, 1.  vii.  c.  15. 


196  tfPANTSH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

Juan  Ponce,  being  firmly  seated  in  his  government,  began  to 
carve  and  portion  out  the  island,  to  found  towns,  and  to  dis 
tribute  the  natives  into  repartimientos,  for  the  purpose  of 
exacting  their  labour. 

The  poor  Indians  soon  found  the  difference  between  the 
Spaniards  as  guests,  and  the  Spaniards  as  masters.  They  were 
driven  to  despair  by  tht  heavy  tasks  imposed  upon  them ;  for 
to  their  free  spirits  and  indolent  habits,  restraint  and  labour 
were  worse  than  death.  Many  of  the  most  hardy  and  daring 
proposed  a  general  insurrection,  and  a  massacre  of  their  oppres 
sors;  the  great  mass,  however,  were  deterred  by  the  belief  that 
the  Spaniards  were  supernatural  beings  and  could  not  be  killed. 

A  shrewd  and  sceptical  cacique  named  Brayoan  determined 
to  put  their  immortalit^  to  the  test.  Hearing  that  a  young 
Spaniard  named  Salzedo  was  passing  through  his  lands,  he 
sent  a  party  of  his  subjects  to  escort  him,  giving  them  secret 
instructions  how  they  were  to  act.  On  coming  to  a  river  they 
took  Salzedo  on  their  shoulders  to  carry  him  across,  but  when 
in  the  midst  of  the  stream,  they  let  him  fall,  and,  throwing 
themselves  upon  him,  pressed  him  under  water  until  he  was 
drowned.  Then  dragging  his  body  to  the  shore,  and  still  doubt 
ing  his  being  dead,  they  wept  and  howled  over  him,  making  a 
thousand  apologies  for  having  fallen  upon  him,  and  kept  him 
so  long  beneath  the  surface. 

The  cacique  Bravoan  came  to  examine  the  body  and  pro 
nounced  it  lifeless ;  out  the  Indians,  still  fearing  it  might  pos 
sess  lurking  immortality  and  ultimately  revive,  kept  watch 
over  it  for  three  days,  until  it  showed  incontestable  signs  of 
putrefaction. 

Being  now  convinced  that  the  strangers  were  mortal  men 
like  themselves,  they  readily  entered  into  a  general  conspiracy 
to  destroy  them.* 


CHAPTER  IV. 

CONSPIRACY  OF  THE  CACIQUES— THE  FATE  OF  SOTOMAYOR. 

THE  prime  mover  of  the  conspiracy  among  the  natives  was 
Agueybana,  brother  and  successor  to  the  hospitable  cacique  of 

*  Herrera,  decad.  1, 1,  yiii.  c.  13. 


JUAN  PONCE  DE  LEON.  197 

the  same  name,  who  had  first  welcomed  the  Spaniards  to  the 
island,  and  who  had  fortunately  closed  his  eyes  in  peace,  be 
fore  his  native  groves  were  made  the  scenes  of  violence  and 
oppression.  The  present  cacique  had  fallen  within  the  repar- 
timiento  of  Don  Christoval  de  Sotomayor,  and,  though  treated 
by  that  cavalier  with  kindness,  could  never  reconcile  his 
proud  spirit  to  the  yoke  of  vassalage. 

Agueybana  held  secret  councils  with  his  confederate  ca 
ciques,  in  which  they  concerted  a  plan  of  operations.  As  the 
Spaniards  were  scattered  about  in  different  places,  it  was 
agreed  that,  at  a  certain  time,  each  cacique  should  dispatch 
those  Avithin  his  province  In  arranging  the  massacre  of 
those  within  his  own  domains,  Agueybana  assigned  to  one  of 
his  inferior  caciques  the  task  of  surprising  the  village  of  Soto 
mayor,  giving  him  3,000  warriors  for  the  purpose.  He  was  to 
assail  the  village  in  the  dead  of  the  night  to  set  fire  to  the 
houses,  and  to  slaughter  all  the  inhabitants.  He  proudly, 
however,  reserved  to  himself  the  honour  of  killing  Don  Chris 
toval  with  his  own  hand. 

Don  Christoval  had  an  unsuspected  friend  in  Che  very  midst 
of  his  enemies.  Being  a  cavalier  of  gallant  appearance  and 
amiable  and  courteous  manners,  he  had  won  the  affections  of 
an  Indian  princess,  the  sister  of  the  cacique  Agueybana.  She 
had  overheard  enough  of  the  war-council  of  her  brother  and 
his  warriors  to  learn  that  Sotomayor  was  in  danger.  The  life 
of  her  lover  was  more  precious  in  her  eyes  than  the  safety  of 
her  brother  and  her  tribe;  hastening,  therefore,  to  him,  she 
told  him  all  that  she  knew  or  feared,  and  warned  him  to  be 
upon  his  guard.  Sotomayor  appears  to  have  been  of  the  most 
easy  and  incautious  nature,  void  of  all  evil  and  deceit  himself, 
and  slow  to  suspect  any  thing  of  the  kind  in  others.  He  con 
sidered  the  apprehension  of  the  princess  as  dictated  by  her 
fond  anxiety,  and  neglected  to  profit  by  her  warning. 

He  received,  however,  about  the  same  time,  information 
from  a  different  quarter,  tending  to  the  same  point.  A  Span 
iard,  versed  in  the  language  and  customs  of  the  natives,  had 
observed  a  number  gathering  together  one  evening,  painted 
and  decorated  as  if  for  battle.  Suspecting  some  lurking  mis 
chief,  he  stripped  and  painted  himself  in  their  manner,  and, 
favoured  by  the  obscurity  of  the  night,  succeeded  in  mingling 
among  them  undiscovered.  They  were  assembled  round  a  fire 
performing  one  of  their  mystic  war-dances,  to  the  chant  of  an 
Areyto  or  legendary  ballad.  The  strophes  and  responses 


198  SPANISH   VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

treated  of  revenge  and  slaughter,  and  repeatedly  mentioned 
the  death  of  Sotomayor. 

The  Spaniard  withdrew  unperceived,  and  hastened  to  ap 
prise  Don  Christ  oval  of  his  danger.  The  latter  still  made  light 
of  these  repeated  warnings;  revolving  them,  however,  in  his 
mind  in  the  stillness  of  the  night,  he  began  to  feel  some  un 
easiness,  and  determined  to  repair  in  the  morning  to  Juan 
Ponce  de  Leon,  in  his  strong-hold  at  Caparra.  With  his  fated 
heedlessness,  or  temerity,  however,  he  applied  to  Agueybana 
for  Indians  to  carry  his  baggage,  and  departed  slightly  armed, 
and  accompanied  by  but  three  Spaniards,  although  he  had  to 
pass  through  close  and  lonely  forests,  where  he  would  be  at 
the  mercy  of  any  treacherous  or  lurking  foe. 

The  cacique  watched  the  departure  of  his  intended  victim 
and  set  out  shortly  afterwards,  dogging  his  steps  at  a  distance 
through  the  forest,  accompanied  by  a  few  chosen  warriors. 
Agueybana  and  his  party  had  not  proceeded  far  when  they 
met  a  Spaniard  named  Juan  Gonzalez,  who  spoke  the  Indian 
language.  They  immediately  assailed  him  and  wounded  him 
in  several  places.  He  threw  himself  at  the  feet  of  the  cacique, 
imploring  his  life  in  the  most  abject  terms.  The  chief  spared 
nim  for  the  moment,  being  eager  to  make  sure  of  Don  Christo- 
val.  He  overtook  that  incautious  cavalier  in  the  very  heart  of 
the  woodland,  and  stealing  silently  upon  him,  burst  forth  sud 
denly  with  his  warriors  from  the  covert  of  the  thickets,  giv 
ing  the  fatal  war  whoop.  Before  Sotomayor  could  put  himself 
upon  his  guard  a  blow  from  the  war  club  of  the  cacique  felled 
him  to  the  earth,  when  he  was  quickly  despatched  by  repeated 
blows.  The  four  Spaniards  who  accompanied  him  shared  his 
fate,  being  assailed,  not  merely  by  the  warriors  who  had  come 
in  pursuit  of  them,  but  by  their  own  Indian  guides. 

When  Agueybana  had  glutted  his  vengeance  on  this  unfor 
tunate  cavalier,  he  returned  in  quest  of  Juan  Gonzalez.  The 
latter,  however,  had  recovered  sufficiently  from  his  wounds  to 
leave  the  place  where  he  had  been  assailed,  and,  dreading  the 
return  of  the  savages,  had  climbed  into  a  tree  and  concealed 
himself  among  the  branches.  From  thence,  with  trembling 
anxiety  he  watched  his  pursuers  as  they  searched  all  the  sur 
rounding  forest  for  him.  Fortunately  they  did  not  think  of 
looking  up  into  the  trees,  but,  after  beating  th«  bushes  for 
some  time,  gave  up  the  search.  Though  he  saw  them  depart, 
yet  he  did  not  venture  from  his  concealment  until  the  night 
had  closed;  he  then  descended  from  the  tree  and  made  the 


JUAN  PONCE  DE  LEON.  199 

best  of  his  way  to  the  residence  of  certain  Spaniards,  where 
his  wounds  were  dressed.  When  this  was  done  he  waited  not 
to  take  repose,  but  repaired  by  a  circuitous  route  to  Caparra, 
and  informed  Juan  Ponce  de  Leon  of  the  danger  he  supposed 
to  be  still  impending  over  Sotomay or,  for  he  knew  not  that 
the  enemy  had  accomplished  his  death.  Juan  Ponce  immedi 
ately  sent  out  forty  men  to  his  relief.  They  came  to  the  scene 
of  massacre,  where  they  found  the  body  of  the  unfortunate 
cavalier,  partly  buried,  but  with  the  feet  out  of  the  earth. 

In  the  mean  time  the  savages  had  accomplished  the  destruc 
tion  of  the  village  of  Sotomayor.  They  approached  it  unper- 
ceived,  through  the  surrounding  forest,  and  entering  it  in  the 
dead  of  the  night,  set  fire  to  the  straw-thatched  houses,  and  at 
tacked  the  Spaniards  as  they  endeavoured  to  escape  from  the 
flames. 

Several  were  slain  at  the  onset,  but  a  brave  Spaniard,  named 
Diego  de  Salazar,  rallied  his  countrymen,  inspirited  them  to 
beat  off  the  enemy,  and  succeeded  in  conducting  the  greater 
part  of  them,  though  sorely  mangled  and  harassed,  to  the 
strong-hold  of  the  Governor  at  Caparra.  Scarcely  had  these 
fugitives  gained  the  fortress,  when  others  came  hurrying  in 
from  all  quarters,  bringing  similar  tales  of  conflagration  and 
massacre.  For  once  a  general  insurrection,  so  often  planned 
in  savage  life,  against  the  domination  of  the  white  men,  was 
crowned  with  success.  All  the  villages  founded  by  the  Span 
iards  had  been  surprised,  about  a  hundred  of  their  inhabit 
ants  destroyed,  and  the  survivors  driven  to  take  refuge  in  a 
beleaguered  fortress. 


CHAPTER  V. 

WAR  OF  JUAN  PONCE  WITH  THE  CACIQUE  AGUEYBANA. 

JUAN  PONCE  DE  LEON  might  now  almost  be  considered  a  gov 
ernor  without  territories,  and  a  general  without  soldiers.  His 
villages  were  smoking  ruins,  and  his  whole  force  did  not 
amount  to  a  hundred  men,  several  of  whom  were  disabled  by 
their  wounds.  He  had  an  able  and  implacable  foe  in  Aguey- 
bana,  who  took  the  lead  of  all  the  other  caciques,  and  even 
sent  envoys  to  the  Caribs  of  the  neighbouring  islands,  entreat 
ing  them  to  forget  all  ancient  animosities,  and  to  make  com- 


200  SPANISH   VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERT. 

mon  cause  against  these  strangers — the  deadly  enemies  of  tho 
whole  Indian  race.  In  the  mean  time  the  whole  of  this  wild 
island  was  in  rebellion,  and  the  forests  around  the  fortress  of 
Caparra  rang  with  the  whoops  and  yells  of  the  savages,  the 
blasts  of  their  war  conchs,  and  the  stormy  roaring  of  their 
drums. 

Juan  Ponce  was  a  staunch  and  wary  old  soldier,  and  not 
easily  daunted.  He  remained  grimly  ensconced  within  his 
fortress,  from  whence  he  despatched  messengers  in  all  haste 
to  Hispaniola,  imploring  immediate  assistance.  In  the  mean 
time  he  tasked  his  wits  to  divert  the  enemy  and  to  keep  them 
at  bay.  He  divided  his  little  force  into  three  bodies  of  about 
thirty  men  each,  under  the  command  of  Diego  Salazar,  Miguel 
de  Toro,  and  Luis  de  Anasco,  and  sent  them  out  alternately  to 
make  sudden  surprises  and  assaults,  to  form  ambuscades,  and 
to  practice  the  other  stratagems  of  partisan  warfare,  which  he 
had  learnt  in  early  life  in  his  campaigns  against  the  Moors  of 
Granada. 

One  of  his  most  efficient  warriors  was  a  dog  named  Berezillo, 
renowned  for  courage,  strength  and  sagacity.  It  is  said  that 
he  could  distinguish  those  of  the  Indians  who  were  allies,  from 
those  who  were  enemies  of  the  Spaniards.  To  the  former  he 
was  docile  and  friendly,  to  the  latter  fierce  and  implacable. 
He  was  the  terror  of  the  natives,  who  were  unaccustomed  to 
powerful  and  ferocious  animals,  and  did  more  service  in  this 
wild  warfare  than  could  have  been  rendered  by  several 
soldiers.  His  prowess  was  so  highly  appreciated  that  his 
master  received  for  him  the  pay-allowance,  and  share  of  booty, 
assigned  to  a  cross-bow  man,  which  was  the  highest  stipend 
given.* 

At  length  the  stout  old  cavalier  Juan  Ponce  was  reinforced 
in  his  strong-hold  by  troops  from  Hispaniola,  whereupon  he 
sallied  forth  boldly  to  take  revenge  upon  those  who  had  thus 
held  him  in  a  kind  of  durance.  His  foe  Agueybana  was  at 
that  time  encamped  in  his  own  territories  with  more  than  five 
thousand  warriors,  but  in  a  negligent,  unwatchfnl  state,  for 
he  knew  nothing  of  the  reinforcements  of  the  Spaniards,  and 

*  This  famous  dog  was  killed  some  years  afterwards  by  a  poisoned  arrow,  as  he 
was  swimming  in  the  sea  in  pursuit  of  a  Carib  Indian.  He  left,  however,  a  num 
erous  progeny  and  a  gi-eat  name  behind  him;  and  his  merits  and  exploits  were 
long  a  favourite  theme  among  the  Spanish  colonists.  He  was  father  to  the 
renowned  Leoncico,  the  faithful  dog  of  Vasco  Nufiez,  which  resembled  him  in 
looks  and  equalled  him  in  prowess. 


JUAN  PONCE  DE  LEON.  %(}\ 

supposed  Juan  Ponce  shut  up  with  his  handful  of  men  in 
Caparra.  The  old  soldier,  therefore,  took  him  completely 
by  surprise,  and  routed  him  with  great  slaughter.  Indeed,  it 
is  said  the  Indians  were  struck  with  a  kind  of  panic  when 
they  saw  the  Spaniards  as  numerous  as  ever,  notwithstand 
ing  the  number  they  had  massacred.  Their  belief  in  their 
immortality  revived ;  they  fancied  that  those  whom  they  had 
slain  had  returned  to  life,  and  they  despaired  of  victory  over 
beings  who  could  thus  arise  with  renovated  vigour  from  the 
grave. 

Various  petty  actions  and  skirmishes  afterwards  took. place, 
in  which  the  Indians  were  defeated.  Agueybana,  however, 
disdained  this  petty  warfare,  and  stirred  up  his  countrymen  to 
assemble  their  forces,  and  by  one  grand  assault  to  decide  the 
fate  of  themselves  and  their  island.  Juan  Ponce  received 
secret  tidings  of  their  intent,  and  of  the  place  where  they  were 
assembling.  He  had  at  that  time  barely  eighty  men  at  his 
disposal,  but  then  they  were  cased  in  steel  and  proof  against 
the  weapons  of  the  savages.  Without  stopping  to  reflect,  the 
nigh-mettled  old  cavalier  put  himself  at  their  heavl  and  led 
them  through  the  forest  in  quest  of  the  foe. 

It  was  nearly  sunset  when  he  came  in  sight  of  the  Indian 
camp,  and  the  multitude  of  warriors  assembled  there  made 
him  pause,  and  almost  repent  of  his  temerity.  He  was  as 
shrewd,  however,  as  he  was  hardy  and  resolute.  Ordering 
some  of  his  men  in  the  advance  to  skirmish  with  the  enemy, 
he  hastily  threw  up  a  slight  fortification  with  the  assistance  of 
the  rest.  When  it  was  finished  he  withdrew  his  forces  into  it 
and  ordered  them  to  keep  merely  on  the  defensive.  The 
Indians  made  repeated  attacks,  but  were  as  often  repulsed 
with  loss.  Some  of  the  Spaniards,  impatient  of  this  covert 
warfare,  would  sally  forth  in  open  field  with  pike  and  cross 
bow,  but  were  called  back  within  the  fortification  by  their 
wary  commander. 

The  cacique  Agueybana  was  enraged  at  finding  his  host  of 
warriors  thus  baffled  and  kept  at  bay  by  a  mere  handful  of 
Spaniards.  He  beheld  the  night  closing  in,  and  feared  that  in 
the  darkness  the  enemy  would  escape.  Summoning  his 
choicest  warriors  round  him,  therefore,  he  led  the  way  in  a 
general  assault,  when,  as  he  approached  the  fortress,  he  re 
ceived  a  mortal  wound  from  an  arquebus  and  fell  dead  upon 
the  spot. 

The  Spaniards  were  not  aware  at  first  of  the  importance  of 


202  SPANISH   VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERT. 

the  chief  whom,  they  had  slain.  They  soon  surmised  it,  how 
ever,  from  the  confusion  that  ensued  among  the  enemy,  who 
bore  off  the  body  with  great  lamentations,  and  made  no 
further  attack. 

The  wary  Juan  Ponce  took  advantage  of  the  evident  distress 
of  the  foe,  to  draw  off  his  small  forces  in  the  night,  happy  to 
get  out  of  the  terrible  jeopardy  into  which  a  rash  confidence 
had  betrayed  him.  Some  of  his  fiery-spirited  officers  would 
have  kept  the  field  in  spite  of  the  overwhelming  force  of  the 
enemy.  ''No,  no,"  said  the  shrewd  veteran;  "it  is  better  to 
protract  the  war  than  to  risk  all  upon  a  single  battle." 

While  Juan  Ponce  de  Leon  was  fighting  hard  to  maintain 
his  sway  over  the  island,  his  transient  dignity  was  overturned 
by  another  power,  against  which  the  prowess  of  the  old 
soldier  was  of  no  avail.  King  Ferdinand  had  repented  of  the 
step  he  had  ill-advisedly  taken,  in  superceding  the  governor 
and  lieutenant  governor,  appointed  by  Don  Diego  Columbus. 
He  became  convinced,  though  rather-  tardily,  that  it  was  an 
infringement  of  the  rights  of  the  admiral,  and  that  policy,  as 
well  as  justice,  required  him  to  retract  it.  When  Juan  Ceron 
and  Miguel  Diaz,  therefore,  came  prisoners  to  Spain,  he 
received  them  graciously,  conferred  many  favors  on  them  to 
atone  for  their  rough  ejectment  from  office,  and  finally,  after 
some  time,  sent  them  back,  empowered  to  resume  the  com 
mand  of  the  island.  They  we're  ordered,  however,  on  no 
account  to  manifest  rancour  or  ill-will  against  Juan  Ponce  de 
Leon,  or  to  interfere  with  any  property  he  might  hold,  either 
in  houses,  lands  or  Indians ;  but  on  the  contrary,  to  cultivate 
the  most  friendly  understanding  with  him.  The  king  also 
wrote  to  the  hardy  veteran  explaining  to  him,  that  this  resti 
tution  of  Ceron  and  Diaz  had  been  determined  upon  in  council, 
as  a  mere  act  or  justice  due  to  them,  but  was  not  intended  as 
a  censure  upon  his  conduct,  and  that  means  should  be  sought 
to  indemnify  him  for  the  loss  of  his  command. 

By  the  time  the  governor  and  hir,  lieutenant  reached  the 
island,  Juan  Ponce  had  completed  its  subjugation.  The  death 
of  the  island  champion,  the  brave  Agueybana,  had  in  fact  been 
a  death  blow  to  the  natives,  and  shows  how  much  in  savage 
warfare,  depends  upon  a  single  chieftain.  They  never  made 
head  of  war  afterwards ;  but,  dispersing  among  their  forests 
and  mountains,  fell  gradually  under  the  power  of  the  Span 
iards.  Their  subsequent  fate  was  like  that  of  their  neighbours 
of  Hayti.  They  were  employed  in  the  labour  of  the  mines^ 


JUAN  PONCE  DE  LEON.  203 

and  in  other  rude  toils  so  repugnant  to  their  nature  that  they 
sank  beneath  them,  and,  in  a  little  while,  almost  all  the 
aboriginals  disappeared  from  the  island. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

JUAN    PONCE    DE  LEON    HEARS  OF    A  WONDERFUL    COUNTRY  AND 
MIRACULOUS  FOUNTAIN. 

JUAN  PONCE  DE  LEON  resigned  the  command  of  Porto  Rico 
with  tolerable  grace.  The  loss  of  one  wild  island  and  wild 
government  was  of  little  moment,  when  there  was  a  new 
world  to  be  shared  out,  where  a  bold  soldier  like  himself,  with 
sword  and  buckler,  might  readily  carve  out  new  fortunes  for 
himself.  Beside,  he  had  now  amassed  wealth  to  assist  him  in 
his  plans,  and,  like  many  of  the  early  discoverers,  his  brain 
was  teeming  with  the  most  romantic  enterprises.  He  had 
conceived  the  idea  that  there  was  yet  a  third  world  to  be  dis 
covered,  and  he  hoped  to  be  the  first  to  reach  its  shores,  and 
thus  to  secure  a  renown  equal  to  that  of  Columbus. 

While  cogitating  these  things,  and  considering  which  way 
he  should  strike  forth  in  the  unexplored  regions  around  him, 
he  met  with  some  old  Indians  who  gave  him  tidings  of  a 
country  which  promised,  not  merely  to  satisfy  the  cravings  of 
his  ambition,  but  to  realize  the  fondest  dreams  of  the  poets. 
They  assured  him  that,  far  to  the  north,  there  existed  a  land 
abounding  in  gold  and  in  all  manner  of  delights ;  but,  above 
all,  possessing  a  river  of  such  wonderful  virtue  that  whoever 
bathed  in  it  would  be  restored  to  youth !  They  added,  that  in 
times  past,  before  the  arrival  of  the  Spaniards,  a  large  party 
of  the  natives  of  Cuba  had  departed  northward  in  search  of 
this  happy  land  and  this  river  of  life,  and,  having  never 
returned,  it  was  concluded  that  they  were  nourishing  in 
renovated  youth,  detained  by  the  pleasures  of  that  enchanting 
country. 

Here  was  the  dream  of  the  alchymist  realized !  one  had  but 
to  find  this  gifted  land  and  revel  in  the  enjoyment  of  bound 
less  riches  and  perennial  youth!  nay,  some  of  the  ancient 
Indians  declared  that  it  was  not  necessary  to  go  so  far  in  quest 
of  these  rejuvenating  waters,  for  that,  in  a  certain  island  of 


204  SPANISH   VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

the  Bahama  group,  called  Bimini,  which  lay  far  out  in  the 
ocean,  there  was  a  fountain  possessing  the  same  marvellous 
and  inestimable  qualities. 

Juan  Ponce  de  Leon  listened  to  these  tales  with  fond  credu 
lity.  He  was  advancing  in  life,  and  the  ordinary  term  of  exis 
tence  seemed  insufficient  for  his  mighty  plans.  Could  he  but 
plunge  into  this  marvellous  fountain  or  gifted  river,  and  come 
out  with  his  battered,  war-worn  body  restored  to  the  strength 
and  freshness  and  suppleness  of  youth,  and  his  head  still  retain 
ing  the  wisdom  and  knowledge  of  age,  what  enterprises  might 
he  not  accomplish  in  the  additional  course  of  vigorous  years 
insured  to  him ! 

It  may  seem  incredible,  at  the  present  day,  that  a  man  of 
years  and  experience  could  yield  any  faith  to  a  story  which 
resembles  the  wild  fiction  of  an  Arabian  tale ;  but  the  wonders 
and  novelties  breaking  upon  the  world  in  that  age  of  discovery 
almost  realized  the  illusions  of  fable,  and  the  imaginations  of 
the  Spanish  voyagers  had  become  so  heated  that  they  were 
capable  of  any  stretch  of  credulity. 

So  fuUy  persuaded  was  the  worthy  old  cavalier  of  the  exist 
ence  of  the  region  described  to  him,  that  he  fitted  out  three 
ships  at  his  own  expense  to  prosecute  the  discovery,  nor  had 
he  any  difficulty  in  finding  adventurers  in  abundance  ready  to 
cruise  with  him  in  quest  of  this  fairy-land.* 


*  It  was  not  the  credulous  minds  of  voyagers  and  adventurers  alone  that  were 
heated  by  these  Indian  traditions  and  romantic  fables.  Men  of  learning  and 
eminence  were  likewise  beguiled  by  them:  witness  the  following  extract  from  the 
second  decade  of  Peter  Martyr,  addressed  to  Leo  I.,  then  Bishop  of  Rome: 

"  Among  the  islands  on  the  north  side  of  Hispaniola  there  is  one  about  325  leagues 
distant,  as  they  say  which  have  searched  the  same,  in  the  which  is  a  continual 
spring  of  running  water,  of  such  marvellous  virtue  that  the  water  thereof  being 
drunk,  perhaps  with  some  diet,  maketh  olde  men  young  again.  And  here  I  must 
make  protestation  to  your  holiness  not  to  think  this  to  be  said  lightly  or  rashly,  for 
they  have  so  spread  this  rumour  for  a  truth  throughout  all  the  court,  that  not  only 
all  the  people,  but  also  many  of  them  whom  wisdom  or  fortune  hath  divided  from 
the  common  sort,  think  it  to  be  true;  but,  if  you  will  ask  my  opinion  herein,  I  will 
answer  that  I  will  not  attribute  so  great  power  to  nature,  but  that  God  hath  no 
lesse  reserved  this  prerogative  to  himself  than  to  search  the  hearts  of  men."  &c.— 
P.  Martyr,  D.  2.  c.  10,  Z-ofc's  translation. 


JUAN  PONCK  DE  LEON.  205 


CHAPTER  VII. 

CRUISE  OF  JUAN  PONCE  DE  LEON  IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  FOUNTAIN 
OF  YOUTH. — 1512. 

IT  was  on  the  third  of  March,  1512,  that  Juan  Ponce  sailed 
with  his  three  ships  from  the  Port  of  St.  Germain  in  the 
island  of  Porto  Rico.  He  kept  for  some  distance  along  the 
coast  of  Hispaniola,  and  then,  stretching  away  to  the  north 
ward,  made  for  the  Bahama  islands,  and  soon  fell  in  with  the 
first  of  the  group.  He  was  favoured  with  propitious  weather 
and  tranquil  seas,  and  glided  smoothly  with  wind  and  current 
along  that  verdant  archipelago,  visiting  one  island  after 
another,  until,  on  the  fourteenth  of  the  month,  he  arrived  at 
Guanahani,  or  St.  Salvador's,  where  Christopher  Columbus 
had  first  put  his  foot  on  the  shores  of  the  new  world.  His 
inquiries  for  the  island  of  Bimini  were  all  in  vain,  and  as  to 
the  fountain  of  youth,  he  may  have  drank  of  every  fountain 
and  river,  and  lake  of  the  archipelago,  even  to  the  salt  pools 
of  Turk's  island,  without  being  a  whit  the  younger. 

Still  he  was  not  discouraged ;  but,  having  repaired  his  ships, 
he  again  put  to  sea  and  shaped  his  course  to  the  north-west. 
On  Sunday,  the  27th  of  March,  he  came  in  sight  of  what  he 
supposed  to  be  an  island,  but  was  prevented  from  landing  by 
adverse  weather.  He  continued  hovering  about  it  for  several 
days,  buffeted  by  the  elements,  until,  in  the  night  of  the 
second  of  April,  he  succeeded  in  coming  to  anchor  under  the 
land  in  thirty  degrees  'eight  minutes  of  latitude.  The  whole 
country  was  in  the  fresh  bloom  of  spring ;  the  trees  were  gay 
with  blossoms,  and  the  fields  covered  with  flowers;  from 
which  circumstance,  as  well  as  from  having  discovered  it  on 
Palm  Sunday,  (Pascua  Florida,)  he  gave  it  the  name  of 
Florida,  which  it  retains  to  the  present  day.  The  Indian  name 
of  the  country  was  Cautio.  * 

Juan  Ponce  landed,  and  took  possession  of  the  country  in 
the  name  of  the  Castilian  Sovereigns.  He  afterwards  con 
tinued  for  several  weeks  ranging  the  coasts  of  this  flowery 
land,  and  struggling  against  the  gulf-stream  and  the  various 
currents  which  sweep  i(.  He  doubled  Cape  Canaveral,  and 
reconnoitered  the  southern  and  eastern  shores  without  isuspect- 

t  Hen-era,  liist.  I  ml.  d.  1.  1.  ix.  c.  10. 


206  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

ing  that  this  was  a  part  of  Terra  Firma.  In  all  his  attempts  to 
explore  the  country,  he  met  with  resolute  and  implacable 
hostility  on  the  part  of  the  natives,  who  appeared  to  be  a  fierce 
and  warlike  race.  He  was  disappointed  also  in  his  hopes  of 
finding  gold,  nor  did  any  of  the  rivers  or  fountains  which  he 
examined  possess  the  rejuvenating  virtue.  Convinced,  there 
fore,  that  this  was  not  the  promised  land  of  Indian  tradition, 
he  turned  his  prow  homeward  on  the  14th  of  June,  with  the 
intention  in  the  way  of  making  one  more  attempt  to  find  the 
island  of  Bimini. 

In  the  outset  of  his  return  he  discovered  a  group  of  islets 
abounding  with  sea-fowl  and  marine  animals.  On  one  of  them 
his  sailors,  in  the  course  of  a  single  night,  caught  one  hundred 
and  seventy  turtles,  and  might  have  taken  many  more,  had 
they  been  so  inclined.  They  likewise  took  fourteen  sea  wolves, 
and  killed  a  vast  quantity  of  pelicans  and  other  birds.  To  this 
group  Juan  Ponce  gave  the  name  of  the  Tortugas,  or  turtles, 
which  they  still  retain. 

Proceeding  in  his  cruise,  he  touched  at  another  group  of 
islets  near  the  Lucayos,  to  which  he  gave  the  name  of  La  Vieja, 
or  the  Old  Woman  group,  because  he  found  no  inhabitant 
there  but  one  old  Indian  woman.*  This  ancient  sybil  he  took 
on  board  his  ship  to  give  him  information  about  tne  labyrinth 
of  islands  into  which  he  was  entering,  and  perhaps  he  could  not 
have  had  a  more  suitable  guide  in  the  eccentric  quest  he  was 
making.  Notwithstanding  her  pilotage,  however,  he  was  ex 
ceedingly  baffled  and  perplexed  in  his  return  voyage  among 
the  Bahama  islands,  for  he  was  forcing  his  way  as  it  were 
against  the  course  of  nature,  and  encountering  the  currents 
which  sweep  westward  along  these  islands,  and  the  trade- wind 
which  accompanies  them.  For  a  long  time  he  struggled  with 
all  kinds  of  difficulties  and  dangers ;  and  was  obliged  to  re 
main  upwards  of  a  month  in  one  of  the  islands  to  repair  the 
damages  which  his  ship  had  suffered  in  a  storm. 

Disheartened  at  length  by  the  perils  and  trials  with  which 
nature  seemed  to  have  beset  the  approach  to  Bimini,  as  to 
some  fairy  island  in  romance,  he  gave  up  the  quest  in  person, 
and  sent  in  his  place  a  trusty  captain,  Juan  Perez  de  Ortubia, 
who  departed  in  one  of  the  other  ships,  guided  by  the  ex 
perienced  old  woman  of  the  isles,  and  by  another  Indian.  As 
to  Juan  Ponce,  he  made  the  best  of  his  way  back  to  Porto 

*Herrera,d.  1,1.  ix. 


JUAN  PONCE  DE  LEON.  207 

Rico,  where  he  arrived  infinitely  poorer  in  purse  and  wrinkled 
in  brow,  by  this  cruise  after  inexhaustible  riches  and  perpetual 
youth. 

He  had  not  been  long  in  port  when  his  trusty  envoy,  Juan 
Perez,  likewise  arrived.  Guided  by  the  sage  old  woman,  he 
had  succeeded  in  finding  the  long-sought-for  Bimini.  He  de 
scribed  it  as  being  large,  verdant,  and  covered  with  beautiful 
groves.  There  were  crystal  springs  and  limpid  streams  in 
abundance,  which  kept  the  island  in  perpetual  verdure,  but 
none  that  could  restore  to  an  old  man  the  vernal  greenness  of 
his  youth. 

Thus  ended  the  romantic  expedition  of  Juan  Ponce  de  Leon. 
Like  many  other  pursuits  of  a  chimera,  it  terminated  in  the 
acquisition  of  a  substantial  good.  Though  he  had  failed  in 
finding  the  fairy  fountain  of  youth,  he  had  discovered  in  place 
9i  it  the  important  country  of  Florida.* 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

EXPEDITION  OF  JUAN  PONCE  AGAINST  THE  CARIES— HIS  DEATH.- 

(1514.) 

JUAN  PONCE  DE  LEON  now  repaired  to  Spain  to  make  a  re 
port  of  his  voyage  to  King  Ferdinand.  The  hardy  old  cava 
lier  experienced  much  raillery  from  the  witlings  of  the  court 
on  account  of  his  visionary  voyage,  though  many  wise  men 
had  been  as  credulous  as  himself  at  the  outset.  The  king, 
however,  received  him  with  great  favour,  and  conferred  on 
him  the  title  of  Adelantado  of  Bimini  and  Florida,  which  last 
was  as  yet  considered  an  island.  Permission  was  also  granted 
him  to  recruit  men  either  in  Spain  or  in  the  colonies  for  a  set- 


*The  belief  of  the  existence,  in  Florida,  of  a  river  like  that  sought  by  Juan  Ponce, 
was  long  prevalent  among  the  Indians  of  Cuba,  and  the  caciques  were  anxious  to 
discover  it.  That  a  party  of  the  natives  of  Cuba  once  went  in  search  ofjt,  and  re 
mained  there,  appears  to  be  a  fact,  as  their  descendants  were  afterwards  to  be 
traced  among  the  people  of  Florida.  Las  Casas  says,  that  even  in  his  days,  many 
persisted  in  seeking  this  mystery,  and  some  thought  that  the  river  was  no  other 
than  that  called  the  Jordan,  at  the  point  of  St.  Helena;  without  considering  that 
the  name  was  given  to  it  by  the  Spaniards  in  the  year  1520,  when  they  discovered 
the  laud  of  Chicora. 


208  SPANISH   VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

tlement  in  Florida ;  but  he  deferred  entering  on  his  command 
for  the  present,  being  probably  discouraged  and  impoverished 
by  the  losses  in  his  last  expedition,  or  finding  a  difficulty  in 
enlisting  adventurers.  At  length  another  enterprise  present 
ed  itself.  The  caribs  had  by  this  time  become  a  terror  to  the 
Spanish  inhabitants  of  many  of  the  islands,  making  descents 
upon  the  coasts  and  carrying  off  captives,  who  it  was  supposed 
were  doomed  to  be  devoured  by  these  cannibals.  So  fre 
quent  were  their  invasions  of  the  island  of  Porto  Rico,  that 
it  was  feared  they  would  ultimately  oblige  the  Spaniards  to 
abandon  it. 

At  length  King  Ferdinand,  in  1514,  ordered  that  three  ships, 
well  armed  and  manned,  should  be  fitted  out  in  Seville,  des 
tined  to  scour  the  islands  of  the  Caribs,  and  to  free  the  seas 
from  those  cannibal  marauders.  The  command  of  the  Armada 
vas  g^ven  to  Juan  Ponce  de  Leon,  from  his  knowledge  in  In 
dian  warfare,  and  his  varied  and  rough  experience  which  had 
mingled  in  him  the  soldier  with  the  sailor.  .  He  was  instructed 
in  the  first  place  to  assail  the  Caribs  of  those  islands  most  con 
tiguous  and  dangerous  to  Porto  Eico,  and  then  to  make  war 
on  those  of  the  coast  of  Terra  Firma,  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Carthagena.  He  was  afterwards  to  take  the  captaincy  of 
Porto  Rico,  and  to  attend  to  the  repartimientos  or  distribu 
tions  of  the  Indians  in  conjunction  with  a  person  to  be  ap 
pointed  by  Diego  Columbus. 

The  enterprise  suited  the  soldier-like  spirit  of  Juan  Ponce  de 
Leon,  and  the  gallant  old  cavalier  set  sail  full  of  confidence  in 
January,  1515,  and  steered  direct  for  the  Caribbees,  with  a  de 
termination  to  give  a  wholesome  castigation  to  the  whole  sav 
age  archipelago.  Arriving  at  the  island  of  Guadaloupe,  he 
cast  anchor,  and  sent  men  on  shore  for  wood  and  water,  and 
Avomen  to  wash  the  clothing  of  the  crews,  with  a  party  of  sol 
diers  to  mount  guard. 

Juan  Ponce  had  not  been  as  wary  as  usual,  or  he  had  to  deal 
with  savages  unusually  adroit  in  warfare.  While  the  people 
were  scattered  carelessly  on  shore,  the  Caribs  rushed  forth 
from  an  ambuscade,  killed  the  greater  part  of  the  men,  and 
carried  off  the  women  to  the  mountains. 

This  blow  at  the  very  outset  of  his  vaunted  expedition  sank 
deep  into  the  heart  of  Juan  Ponce,  and  put  an  end  to  all  his 
military  excitement.  Humbled  and  mortified,  he  set  sail  for 
the  island  of  Porto  Rico,  where  he  relinquished  all  further 
prosecution  of  the  enterprise,  under  pretext  of  ill  health,  and 


JUAN  PONCE  DE  LEON.  209 

gave  the  command  of  the  squadron  to  a  captain  named  Zuniga; 
but  it  is  surmised  that  his  malady  was  not  so  much  of  the  flesh 
os  of  the  spirit.  He  remained  in  Porto  Rico  as  governor ;  but, 
having  grown  testy  and  irritable  through  vexations  and  disap 
pointments,  he  gave  great  offence,  and  caused  much  contention 
on  the  island  by  positive  and  strong-handed  measures,  in  re 
spect  to  the  distribution  of  the  Indians. 

He  continued  for  several  years  in  that  island,  in  a  state  of 
^Tov^ling  repose,  until  the  brilliant  exploits  of  Hernando  Cortez, 
which  threatened  to  eclipse  the  achievements  of  all  the  veteran 
discoverers,  roused  his  dormant  spirit. 

Jealous  of  being  cast  in  the  shade  in  his  old  day  s,  he  deter 
mined  to  sally  forth  on  one  more  expedition.  He  had  heard 
that  Florida,  which  he  had  discovered,  and  which  he  had 
hitherto  considered  a  mere  island,  was  part  of  Terra  Firma, 
possessing  vast  and  unknown  regions  in  its  bosom.  If  so,  a 
grand  field  of  enterprise  lay  before  him,  wherein  he  might 
make  discoveries  and  conquests  to  rival,  if  not  surpass,  the 
far-famed  conquest  of  Mexico. 

Accordingly,  in  the  year  1521  he  fitted  out  two  ships  at  the 
island  of  Porto  Rico,  and  embarked  almost  the  whole  of  his 
property  in  the  undertaking.  His  voyage  was  toilsome  and 
tempestuous,  but  at  length  he  arrived  at  the  wished-for  land. 
He  made  a  descent  upon  the  coast  with  a  great  part  of  his 
men,  but  the  Indians  sallied  forth  with  unusual  valour  to  de 
fend  their  shores.  A  bloody  battle  ensued,  several  of  the 
Spaniards  were  slain,  and  Juan  Ponce  was  wounded  by  an 
arrow,  in  the  thigh.  He  was  borne  on  board  his  ship,  and 
finding  himself  disabled  for  further  action,  set  sail  for  Cuba, 
where  he  arrived  ill  in  body  and  dejected  in  heart. 

He  was  of  an  age  when  there  is  no  longer  prompt  and  health 
ful  reaction  either  mental  or  corporeal.  The  irritations  of 
humiliated  pride  and  disappointed  hope,  exasperated  the  fever 
of  his  wound,  and  he  died  soon  after  his  arrival  at  the  island. 
"  Thus  fate,"  says  one  of  the  quaint  old  Spanish  writers,  k'  de 
lights  to  reverse  the  schemes  of  man.  The  discovery  that 
Juan  Ponce  flattered  himself  was  to  lead  to  a  means  of  per 
petuating  his  life,  had  the  ultimate  effect  of  hastening  his 
death." 

It  may  be  said,  however,  that  he  has  at  least  attained  the 
shadow  of  his  desire,  since,  though  disappointed  in  extending 
the  natural  term  of  his  existence,  his  discovery  has  ensured  a 
lasting  duration  to  his  name, 


210  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERT. 

The  following  epitaph  was  inscribed  upon  his  tomb,  which 
does  justice  to  the  warrior  qualities  of  the  stout  old  cavalier : 

Mole  sub  hac  f  ortis  requiescat  ossa  Leonis, 
Qui  vicit  factis  noraina  magna  suis. 

It  has  thus  been  paraphrased  in  Spanish  by  the  Licentiate 
Juan  de  Castellanos. 

Aqueste  lugar  estrecho 
Es  sepulchre  del  varon, 
Que  en  el  nombre  fue  Leon, 
Y  mucho  mas  en  el  hecho. 

"  In  this  sepulchre  rest  the  bones  of  a  man,  who  was  a  lion 
by  name,  and  still  more  by  nature." 


APPENDIX.  211 


APPENDIX. 


A  VISIT  TO  PALOS. 

[The  following  narrative  was  actually  commenced,  by  the  author  of  this  work,  as 
a  letter  to  a  friend,  but  unexpectedly  swelled  to  its  present  size.  He  has  been  in 
duced  to  insert  it  here  from  the  idea  that  many  will  feel  the  same  curiosity  to 
know  something  of  the  present  state  of  Palos  and  its  inhabitants  that  led  him  to 
Tnake  the  journey.] 

SEVILLE,  1828. 

SINCE  I  last  wrote  to  you  I  have  made,  what  I  may  term,  an 
American  Pilgrimage,  to  visit  the  little  port  of  Palos  in 
Andalusia,  where  Columbus  fitted  out  his  ships,  and  whence 
he  sailed  for  the  discovery  of  the  New  World.  Need  I  tell  you 
how  deeply  interesting  and  gratifying  it  has  been  to  me?  I 
had  long  meditated  this  excursion  as  a  kind  of  pious,  and,  if  I 
may  say,  filial  duty  of  an  American,  and  my  intention  was 
quickened  when  I  learnt  that  many  of  the  edifices  mentioned 
in  the  history  of  Columbus  still  remained  in  nearly  the  same 
state  in  which  they  existed  at  the  time  of  his  sojourn  at  Palos, 
and  that  the  descendants  of  the  intrepid  Pinzons,  who  aided 
him  with  ships  and  money,  and  sailed  with  him  in  the  great 
voyage  of  discovery,  still  nourished  in  the  neighbourhood. 

The  very  evening  before  my  departure  from  Seville  on  the 
excursion,  I  heard  that  there  was  a  young  gentleman  of  the 
Pinzon  family  studying  law  in  the  city.  I  got  introduced  to 
him,  and  found  him  of  most  prepossessing  appearance  and 
manners.  He  gave  me  a  letter  of  introduction  to  his  father, 
Don  Juan  Fernandez  Pinzon,  resident  of  Moguer,  and  the  pre 
sent  head  of  the  family. 

As  it  was  in  the  middle  of  August,  and  the  weather  in 
tensely  hot,  I  hired  a  calesa  for  the  journey.  This  is  a  two- 
wheeled  carriage,  resembling  a  cabriolet;  but  of  the  most 
primitive  and  rude  construction;  the  harness  is  profusely 
ornamented  with  brass,  and  the  horse's  head  decorated  with 


212  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

tufts  and  tassels  and  dangling  bobs  of  scarlet  and  yellow 
worsted.  I  had,  for  calasero,  a  tall,  long-legged  Andalusian, 
in  short  jacket,  little  round-crowned  hat,  breeches  decorated 
with  buttons  from  the  hip  to  the  knees,  and  a  pair  of  russet 
leather  bottinas  or  spatter-dashes.  He  was  an  active  fellow, 
though  uncommonly  taciturn  for  an  Andalusian,  and  strode 
along  beside  his  horse,  rousing  him  occasionally  to  greater 
speed  by  a  loud  malediction  or  a  hearty  thwack  of  his  cudgel. 

In  this  style  I  set  off  late  in  the  day  to  avoid  the  noon-tide 
heat,  and  after  ascending  the  lofty  range  of  hills  that  borders 
the  great  valley  of  the  Guadalquivir,  and  having  a  rough  ride 
among  their  heights,  I  descended  about  twilight  into  one  of 
those  vast,  silent,  melancholy  plains,  frequent  in  Spain,  where 
I  beheld  no  other  signs  of  life  than  a  roaming  flock  of  bustards, 
and  a  distant  herd  of  cattle,  guarded  by  a  solitary  herdsman, 
who,  with  a  long  pike  planted  in  the  earth,  stood  motionless  in 
the  midst  of  the  dreary  landscape,  resembling  an  Arab  of  the 
desert.  The  night  had  somewhat  advanced  when  we  stopped 
to  repose  for  a  few  hours  at  a  solitary  venta  or  inn,  if  it  might 
GO  be  called,  being  nothing  more  than  a  vast  low-roofed  stable, 
divided  into  several  compartments  for  the  reception  of  the 
troops  of  mules  and  arrieros  (or  carriers)  who  carry  on  the 
internal  trade  of  Spain.  Accommodation  for  the  traveller 
there  was  none — not  even  for  a  traveller  so  easily  accom 
modated  as  myself.  The  landlord  had  no  food  to  give  me,  and 
as  to  a  bed,  he  had  none  but  a  horse  cloth,  on  which  his  only 
child,  a  boy  of  eight  years  old,  lay  naked  on  the  earthen  floor. 
Indeed  the  heat  of  the  weather  and  the  fumes  from  the  stables 
made  the  interior  of  the  hovel  insupportable,  so  I  was  fain  to 
bivouac  on  my  cloak  on  the  pavement  at  the  door  of  the  venta, 
where  on  waking  after  two  or  three  hours  of  sound  sleep,  I 
found  a  contrabandista  (or  smuggler)  snoring  beside  me,  with 
his  blunderbuss  on  his  arm. 

I  resumed  my  journey  before  break  of  day,  and  had  made 
several  leagues  by  ten  o'clock,  when  we  stopped  to  breakfast 
and  to  pass  the  sultry  hours  of  midday  in  a  large  village,  from 
whence  we  departed  about  four  o'clock,  and,  after  passing 
through  the  same  kind  of  solitary  country,  arrived  just  after 
sunset  at  Moguer.  This  little  city  (for  at  present  it  is  a  city)  is 
situated  about  a  .league  from  Palos,  of  which  place  it  has  gra 
dually  absorbed  all  the  respectable  inhabitants,  and,  among 
the  number,  the  whole  family  of  the  Pinzons. 

So  remote  is  this  litf?e  ^laco  from  the  stir  and  bustle  of 


APPENDIX.  213 

travel,  and  so  destitute  of  the  show  and  vain-glory  of  this 
world,  that  my  calesa,  as  it  rattled  and  jingled  along  the  nar 
row  and  ill-paved  streets,  caused  a  great  sensation;  the  chil 
dren  shouted  and  scampered  along  by  its  side,  admiring  its 
splendid  trappings  of  brass  and  worsted,  and  gazing  with  rev. 
erence  at  the  important  stranger  who  came  in  so  gorgeous  an 
equipage. 

I  drove  up  to  the  principal  posada,  the  landlord  of  which 
was  at  the  door.  He  was  one  of  the  very  civilest  men  in  the 
world,  and  disposed  to  do  every  thing  in  his  power  to  make 
me  comfortable ;  there  was  only  one  difficulty,  he  had  neither 
bed  nor  bedroom  in  his  house.  In  fact,  it  was  a  mere  venta 
for  muleteers,  who  are  accustomed  to  sleep  on  the  ground  with 
their  mule-cloths  for  beds  and  pack-saddles  for  pillows.  It 
was  a  hard  case,  but  there  was  no  better  posada  in  the  place. 
Few  people  travel  for  pleasure  or  curiosity  in  these  out-of-the- 
way  parts  of  Spain,  and  those  of  any  note  are  generally  re 
ceived  into  private  houses.  I  had  travelled  sufficiently  in 
Spain  to  find  out  that  a  bed,  after  all,  is  not  an  article  of  indis 
pensable  necessity,  and  was  about  to  bespeak  some  quiet 
corner  where  I  might  spread  my  cloak,  when,  fortunately,  the 
landlord's  wife  came  forth.  She  could  not  have  a  more  oblig 
ing  disposition  than  her  husband,  but  then— God  bless  the 
women! — they  always  know  how  to  carry  their  good  wishes 
into  effect.  In  a  little  while  a  small  room  about  ten  feet 
square,  that  had  formed  a  thoroughfare  between  the  stables 
and  a  kind  of  shop  or  bar-room,  was  cleared  of  a  variety  of 
lumber,  and  I  was  assured  that  a  bed  should  be  put  up  there 
for  me.  From  the  consultations  I  saw  my  hostess  holding 
with  some  of  her  neighbour  gossips,  I  fancied  the  bed  was  to 
be  a  kind  of  piecemeal  contribution  among  them  for  the  credit 
of  the  house. 

As  soon  as  I  could  change  my  dress,  I  commenced  the  histori 
cal  researches,  which  were  the  object  of  my  journey,  and 
inquired  for  the  abode  of  Don  Juan  Fernandez  Pinzon.  My 
obliging  landlord  himself  volunteered  to  conduct  me  thither, 
and  I  set  off  full  of  animation  at  the  thoughts  of  meeting  with 
the  lineal  representative  of  one  of  the  coadjutors  of  Columbus. 

A  short  walk  brought  us  to  the  house,  which  was  most  re 
spectable  in  its  appearance,  indicating  easy  if  not  affluent  cir 
cumstances.  The  door,  as  is  customary  in  Spanish  villages 
during  summer,  stood  wide  open.  We  entered  with  the  usual 
salutation,  or  rather  summons,  "  Ave  Maria!"  A  trim  Anda- 


214  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

lusian  handmaid  answered  to  the  call,  and,  on  our  inquiring 
for  the  master  of  the  house,  led  the  way  across  a  little  patio  or 
court  in  the  centre  of  the  edifice,  cooled  by  a  fountain  sur 
rounded  by  shrubs  and  flowers,  to  a  back  court  or  terrace,  like 
wise  set  out  with  flowers,  where  Don  Juan  Fernandez  was 
seated  with  his  family  enjoying  the  serene  evening  in  tfre  open 
air. 

I  was  much  pleased  with  his  appearance.  He  was  a  ven 
erable  old  gentleman,  tall  and  somewhat  thin,  with  fair  com 
plexion  and  gray  hair.  He  received  me  with  great  urbanity, 
and,  on  reading  the  letter  from  his  son,  appeared  struck  with 
surprise  to  find  I  had  come  quite  to  Moguer  merely  to  visit 
the  scene  of  the  embarkation  of  Columbus ;  and  still  more  so  on 
my  telling  him  that  one  of  my  leading  objects  of  curiosity  was 
his  own  family  connexion ;  for  it  would  seem  that  the  worthy 
cavalier  had  troubled  his  head  but  little  about  the  enterprises 
of  his  ancestors. 

I  now  took  my  seat  in  the  domestic  circle  and  soon  felt 
myself  quite  at  home,  for  there  is  generally  a  frankness  in 
the  hospitality  of  Spaniards  that  soon  puts  a  stranger  at  his 
ease  beneath  their  roof.  The  wife  of  Don  Fernandez  was 
extremely  amiable  and  affable,  possessing  much  of  that  nat 
ural  aptness  for  which  the  Spanish  women  are  remarkable. 
In  the  course  of  conversation  with  them,  I  learnt  that  Don 
Juan  Fernandez,  who  is  seventy-two  years  of  age,  is  the  eldest 
of  five  brothers,  all  of  whom  are  married,  have  numerous  off 
spring,  and  lived  in  Moguer  and  its  vicinity  in  nearly  the 
same  condition  and  rank  of  life  as  at  the  time  of  the  dis 
covery.  This  agreed  with  what  I  had  previously  heard  re 
specting  the  families  of  the  discoverers.  Of  Columbus  no 
lineal  and  direct  descendant  exists;  his  was  an  exotic  stock 
that  never  took  deep  and  lasting  root  in  the  country ;  but  the 
race  of  the  Pinzons  continues  to  thrive  and  multiply  in  its 
native  soil. 

While  I  was  yet  conversing  a  gentleman  entered,  who  was 
introduced  to  me  as  Don  Luis  Fernandez  Pinzon,  the  young 
est  of  the  brothers.  He  appeared  to  be  between  fifty  and  sixty 
years  of  age,  somewhat  robust,  with  fair  complexion  and  gray 
hair,  and  a  frank  and  manly  deportment.  He  is  the  only  one 
of  the  present  generation  that  has  followed  the  ancient  pro 
fession  of  the  family ;  having  served  with  great  applause  as  an 
officer  of  the  royal  navy,  from  which  he  retired  on  his  mar 
riage  about  twenty-two  years  since.  He  is  the  one  also  who 


APPENDIX.  215 

takes  the  greatest  interest  and  pride  in  the  historical  honours 
of  his  house,  carefully  preserving  all  the  legends  and  docu 
ments  of  the  achievements  and  distinctions  of  his  family,  a 
manuscript  volume  of  which  he  lent  me  for  my  inspection. 

Don  Juan  now  expressed  a  wish  that  during  my  residence 
in  Moguer  I  would  make  his  house  my  home.  I  endeavoured 
to  excuse  myself,  alleging  that  the  good  people  at  the  pcsada 
had  been  at  such  extraordinary  trouble  in  preparing  quarters 
for  me  that  I  did  not  like  to  disappoint  them.  The  worthy  old 
gentleman  undertook  to  arrange  all  this,  and,  while  supper 
was  preparing,  we  walked  together  to  the  posada.  I  found 
that  my  obliging  host  and  hostess  had  indeed  exerted  them 
selves  to  an  uncommon  degree.  An  old  ricketty  table  had 
been  spread  out  in  a  corner  of  the  little  room  as  a  bedstead,  on 
top  of  which  was  propped  up  a  grand  cama  de  luxo,  or  state 
bed,  which  appeared  to  be  the  admiration  of  the  house.  I 
could  not  for  the  soul  of  me  appear  to  undervalue  what  the 
poor  people  had  prepared  with  such  hearty  good-will  and  con 
sidered  such  a  triumph  of  art  and  luxury ;  so  I  again  entreated 
Don  Juan  to  dispense  with  my  sleeping  at  his  house,  promising 
most  faithfully  to  make  my  meals  there  while  I  should  stay  at 
Moguer,  and,  as  the  old  gentleman  understood  my  motives  for 
declining  his  invitation  and  felt  a  good-humoured  sympathy  in 
then .,  we  readily  arranged  the  matter.  I  returned,  therefore, 
with  Don  Juan  to  his  house  and  supped  with  his  family.  Dur 
ing  the  repast  a  plan  was  agreed  upon  for  my  visit  to  Palos 
and  to  the  convent  La  Rabida,  in  which  Don  Juan  volunteered 
to  accompany  me  and  be  my  guide,  and  the  following  day  was 
allotted  to  the  expedition.  We  were  to  breakfast  at  a  hacienda 
or  country-seat  which  he  possessed  in  the  vicinity  of  Palos  in 
the  midst  of  his  vineyards,  and  were  to  dine  .ftiere  on  our  re 
turn  from  the  convent.  These  arrangements  being  made,  we 
parted  for  the  night;  I  returned  to  the  posada  highly  gratified 
with  my  visit,  and  slept  soundly  in  the  extraordinary  bed, 
which,  I  may  almost  say,  had  been  invented  for  my  accommo 
dation. 

On  the  following  morning,  bright  and  early,  Don  Juan  Fer 
nandez  and  myself  set  off  in  the  calesa  for  Palos.  I  felt  ap 
prehensive  at  first,  that  the  kind-hearted  old  gentleman,  in  his 
anxiety  to  oblige,  had  left  his  bed  at  too  early  an  hour,  and 
was  exposing  himself  to  fatigues  unsuited  to  his  age.  He 
laughed  at  the  idea,  and  assured  me  that  he  was  an  early  riser, 
and  accustomed  to  all  kinds  of  exercise  on  horse  and  foot, 


gl6  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

being  a  keen  sportsman,  and  frequently  passing  days  together 
among  the  mountains  on  shooting  expeditions,  taking  with 
him  servants,  horses,  and  provisions,  and  living  in  a  tent.  He 
appeared,  in  fact,  to  be  of  an  active  habit,  and  to  possess  a 
youthful  vivacity  of  spirit.  His  cheerful  disposition  rendered 
our  morning  drive  extremely  agreeable;  his  urbanity  was 
shown  to  every  one  whom  we  met  on  the  road ;  even  the  com 
mon  peasant  was  saluted  by  him  with  the  appellation  of  cdbal- 
lero,  a  mark  of  respect  ever  gratifying  to  the  poor  but  proud 
Spaniard,  when  yielded  by  a  superior. 

As  the  tide  was  out  we  drove  along  the  flat  grounds  border 
ing  the  Tinto.  The  river  was  on  our  right,  while  on  our  left 
was  a  range  of  hills,  jutting  out  into  promontories,  one  beyond 
the  other;  and  covered  with  vineyards  and  lig  trees.  The 
weather  was  serene,  the  air  was  soft  and  balmy,  and  the  land 
scape  of  that  gentle  kind  calculated  to  put  one  in  a  quiet 
and  happy  humour.  We  passed  close  by  the  skirts  of  Palos, 
and!  dvove  to  the  hacienda,  which  is  situated  at  some  little  dis 
tance  from  the  village,  between  it  and  the  river.  The  house  is 
a  low  stone  building,  well  white- washed,  and  of  great  length ; 
one  end  being  fitted  up  as  a  summer  residence,  with  saloons, 
bed-rooms,  and  a  domestic  chapel ;  and  the  other  as  a  bodega  or 
magazine  for  the  reception  of  the  wine  produced  on  the  estate. 

The  house  stands  on  a  hill,  amidst  vineyards,  which  are  supj 
posed  to  cover  a  part  of  the  site  of  the  ancient  town  of  Palos, 
no  w  shrunk  to  a  miserable  village.  Beyond  these  vineyards, 
on  the  crest  of  a  distant  hill,  are  seen  the  white  walls  of  the 
convent  of  La  Rabida  rising  above  a  dark  wood  of  pine  trees. 

Below  the  hacienda  flows  the  river  Tinto,  on  which  Col  urn- 
bus  embarked.  It  is  divided  by  a  low  tongue  of  land,  or  rather 
the  sand-bar  of  Saltes,  from  the  river  Odiel,  with  which  it  soon 
mingles  its  waters,  and  flows  on  to  the  ocean.  Beside  this 
sand-bar,  where  the  channel  of  the  river  runs  deep,  the  squad 
ron  of  Columbus  was  anchored,  and  from  hence  he  made  sail 
on  the  morning  of  his  departure. 

The  soft  breeze  that  was  blowing  scarcely  ruffled  the  surface 
of  this  beautiful  river ;  two  or  three  picturesque  barks,  called 
mysticks,  with  long  latine  sails,  were  gliding  down  it.  A  little 
aid  of  the  imagination  might  suffice  to  picture  them  as  the 
light  caravels  of  Columbus,  sallying  forth  on  their  eventful 
expedition,  while  the  distant  bells  of  the  town  of  Huelva, 
which  were  ringing  melodiously,  might  be  supposed  as  cheer 
ing  the  voyagers  with  a  farewell  peal. 


APPENDIX.  217 

I  cannot  express  to  you  what  were  my  feelings  on  treading 
cfae  shore  which  had  once  been  animated  by  the  bustle  of 
departure,  and  whose  sands  had  been  printed  by  the  last  foot 
step  of  Columbus.  The  solemn  and  sublime  nature  of  the 
event  that  had  followed,  together  with  the  fate  and  fortunes  of 
those  concerned  in  it,  filled  the  mind  with  vague  yet  melan 
choly  ideas.  It  was  like  viewing  the  silent  and  empty  stage  of 
some  great  drama,  when  all  the  actors  had  departed.  The 
very  aspect  of  the  landscape,  so  tranquilly  beautiful,  had  an 
eft'ect  upon  me,  and  as  I  paced  the  deserted  shore  by  the  side  of 
a  descendant  of  one  of  the  discoverers,  I  felt  my  heart  swelling 
with  emotions  and  my  eyes  filling  with  tears. 

What  surprised  me  was  to  find  no  semblance  of  a  seaport ; 
there  was  neither  wharf  nor  landing-place — nothing  but  a 
naked  river  bank,  with  the  hulk  of  a  ferry-boat,  which  I  was 
told  carried  passengers  to  Huelva,  lying  high  and  dry  on  the 
sands,  deserted  by  the  tide.  Palos,  though  it  has  doubtless 
dwindled  away  from  its  former  size,  can  never  have  been 
important  as  to  extent  and  population.  If  it  possessed  ware 
houses  on  the  beach,  they  have  disappeared.  It  is  at  present  a 
mere  village  of  the  poorest  kind,  and  lies  nearly  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  from  the  river,  in  a  hollow  among  hills.  It  contains  a 
few  hundred  inhabitants,  who  suosist  principally  by  labouring 
in  the  fields  and  vineyards.  Its  race  of  merchants  and  marin 
ers  are  extinct.  There  are  no  vessels  belonging  to  the  place, 
nor  any  show  of  traffic,  excepting  at  the  season  of  fruit  and 
wine,  when  a  few  mysticks  and  other  light  barks  anchor  in  the 
river  to  collect  the  produce  of  the  neighbourhood.  The  people 
are  totally  ignorant,  and  it  is  probable  that  the  greater  part  of 
them  scarce  know  even  the  name  of  America.  Such  is  the 
place  from  whence  sallied  forth  the  enterprise  for  the  discovery 
of  the  western  world ! 

We  were  now  summoned  to  breakfast  in  a  little  saloon  of  the 
hacienda.  The  table  was  covered  with  natural  luxuries  pro 
duced  upon  the  spot — fine  purple  and  muscatel  grapes  from 
the  adjacent  vineyard,  delicious  melons  from  the  garden,  and 
generous  wines  made  on  the  estate.  The  repast  was  heightened 
by  the  genial  manners  of  my  hospitable  host,  who  appeared  to 
possess  the  most  enviable  cheerfulness  of  spirit  and  simplicity 
of  heart. 

After  breakfast  we  set  off  in  the  calesa  to  visit  the  convent 
of  La  Rabida,  which  is  about  half  a  league  distant.  The  road, 
for  a  part  of  the  way,  lay  through  the  vineyards,  and  was  deep 


218  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

and  sandy.  The  calasero  had  been  at  his  wits'  end  to  conceive 
what  motive  a  stranger  like  myself,  apparently  travelling  for 
mere  amusement,  could  have  in  coming  so  far  to  see  so  miser, 
able  a  place  as  Palos,  which  he  set  down  as  one  of  the  very 
poorest  places  in  the  whole  world ;  but  this  additional  toil  and 
struggle  through  deep  sand  to  visit  the  old  Convent  of  La 
Rabid  a,  completed  his  confusion— "  Hombre!"  exclaimed  he, 
"  es  una  ruina !  no  hay  mas  que  dos  frailes !" — "  Zounds !  why, 
it's  a  ruin!  there  are  only  two  friars  there!"  Don  Juan 
laughed,  and  told  him  that  I  had  come  all  the  way  from  Seville 
precisely  to  see  that  old  ruin  and  those  two  friars.  The  cala 
sero  made  the  Spaniard's  last  reply  when  he  is  perplexed — he 
shrugged  his  shoulders  and  crossed  himself. 

After  ascending  a  hill  and  passing  through  the  skirts  of  a 
straggling  pine  wood,  we  arrived  in  front  of  the  convent.  It 
stands  in  a  bleak  and  solitary  situation,  on  the  brow  of  a  rocky 
height  or  promontory,  overlooking  to  the  west  a  wide  range  of 
sea  and  land,  bounded  by  the  frontier  mountains  of  Portugal, 
about  eight  leagues  distant.  The  convent  is  shut  out  from  a 
view  of  the  vineyard  of  Palos  by  the  gloomy  forest  of  pines 
which  I  have  mentioned,  which  cover  the  promontory  to  the 
east,  and  darken  the  whole  landscape  in  that  direction. 

There  is  nothing  remarkable  in  the  architecture  of  the  con 
vent  ;  part  of  it  is  Gothic,  but  the  edifice,  having  been  fre 
quently  repaired,  and  being  white- washed,  according  to  a  uni 
versal  custom  in.  Andalusia,  inherited  from  the  Moors,  it  has 
not  that  venerable  aspect  which  might  be  expected  from  its 
antiquity. 

We  alighted  at  the  gate  where  Columbus,  when  a  poor 
pedestrian,  a  stranger  in  the  land,  asked  bread  and  water  for 
his  child !  As  long  as  the  convent  stands,  this  must  be  a  spot 
calculated  to  awaken  the  most  thrilling  interest.  The  gate 
remains  apparently  in  nearly  the  same  state  as  at  the  time  of 
his  visit,  but  there  is  no  longer  a  porter  at  hand  to  administer 
to  the  wants  of  the  wayfarer.  The  door  stood  wide  open,  and 
admitted  us  into  a  small  court-yard.  From  thence  we  passed 
through  a  Gothic  portal  into  the  chapel,  without  seeing  a 
human  being.  We  then  traversed  two  interior  cloisters, 
equally  vacant  and  silent,  and  bearing  a  look  of  neglect  and 
dilapidation.  From  an  open  window  we  had  a  peep  at  what 
had  once  been  a  garden,  but  that  had  also  gone  to  ruin ;  the 
walls  were  broken  and  thrown  down;  a  few  shrubs,  and  a 
scattered  fig-tree  or  two,  were  all  the  traces  of  cultivation  that 


APPENDIX. 

remained.  We  passed  through  the  long  dormitories,  but  the 
cells  were  shut  up  and  abandoned;  we  saw  no  living  thing 
except  a  solitary  cat  stealing  across  a  distant  corridor,  which 
fled  in  a  panic  at  the  unusual  sight  of  strangers.  At  length, 
after  patrolling  nearly  the  whole  of  the  empty  building  to  the 
echo  of  our  own  footsteps,  we  came  to  where  the  door  of  a  cell, 
being  partly  open,  gave  us  the  sight  of  a  monk  within,  seated 
at  a  table  writing.  He  rose  and  received  us  with  much  civil 
ity,  and  conducted  us  to  the  superior,  who  was  reading  in  an 
adjacent  cell.  They  were  both  rather  young  men,  and, 
together  with  a  novitiate  and  a  lay-brother,  who  officiated  as 
cook,  formed  the  whole  community  of  the  convent. 

Don  Juan  Fernandez  communicated  to  them  the  object  of 
my  visit,  and  my  desire  also  to  inspect  the  archives  of  the 
convent  to  find  if  there  was  any  record  of  the  sojourn  of 
Columbus.  They  informed  us  that  the  archives  had  been 
entirely  destroyed  by  the  French.  The  younger  monk,  how 
ever,  who  had  perused  them,  had  a  vague  recollection  of 
various  particulars  concerning  the  transactions  of  Columbus 
at  Palos,  his  visit  to  the  convent,  and  the  sailing  of  his 
expedition.  From  all  that  he  cited,  however,  it  appeared  to 
me  that  all  the  information  on  the  subject  contained  in  the 
archives,  had  been  extracted  from  Herrera  and  other  well 
known  authors.  The  monk  was  talkative  and  eloquent,  and 
soon  diverged  frcgn  the  subject  of  Columbus,  to  one  which 
he  considered  of  infinitely  greater  importance ;— the  mirac 
ulous  image  of  the  Virgin  possessed  by  their  convent,  and 
known  by  the  name  of  "Our  Lady  of  La  Rabida."  He  gave 
us  a  history  of  the  wonderful  way  in  which  the  image  had 
been  found  buried  in  the  earth,  where  it  had  lain  hidden  for 
ages,  since  the  time  of  the  conquest  of  Spain  by  the  Moors ; 
the  disputes  between  the  convent  and  different  places  in  the 
neighbourhood  for  the  possession  of  it;  the  marvellous  pro 
tection  it  extended  to  the  adjacent  country,  especially  in 
preventing  all  madness,  either  in  man  or  dog,  for  this  malady 
was  anciently  so  prevalent  in  this  place  as  to  gain  it  the 
appellation  of  La  Eabia,  by  which  it  was  originally  called ;  a 
name  which,  thanks  to  the  beneficent  influence  of  the  Virgin, 
it  no  longer  merited  or  retained.  Such  are  the  legends  and 
reliques  with  which  every  convent  in  Spain  is  enriched  which 
are  zealously  cried  up  by  the  monks,  and  devoutly  credited  by 
the  populace. 

Twice  a  year  on  the  festival  of  our  Lady  of  La  Rabida,  and 


220  SrAA'ISJI   VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

on  that  of  the  patron  saint  of  the  order,  the  solitude  and 
silence  of  the  convent  are  interrupted  by  the  intrusion  of  a 
swarming  multitude,  composed  of  the  inhabitants  of  Moguer, 
of  Huelva,  and  the  neighbouring  plains  and  mountains.  The 
open  esplanade  in  front  of  the  edifice  resembles  a  fair,  the 
adjacent  forest  teems  with  the  motley  throng,  and  the  image 
of  our  Lady  of  La  Rabida  is  borne  forth  in  triumphant 
procession. 

While  the  friar  was  thus  dilating  upon  the  merits  and 
renown  of  the  image,  I  amused  myself  with  those  day  dreams, 
or  conjurings  of  the  imagination  to  which  I  am  a  little  given. 
As  the  internal  arrangements  of  convents  are  apt  to  be  the 
same  from  age  to  age,  I  pictured  to  myself  this  chamber  as  the 
same  inhabited  by  the  guardian,  Juan  Perez  de  Marchena,  at 
the  time  of  the  visit  of  Columbus.  Why  might  not  the  old 
and  ponderous  table  before  me  be  the  very  one  on  which  he 
displayed  his  conjectural  maps,  and  expounded  his  theory  of 
a  western  route  to  India?  It  required  but  another  stretch  of 
the  imagination  to  assemble  the  little  conclave  around  the 
table;  Juan  Perez  the  friar,  Garci  Fernandez  the  physician, 
and  Martin  Alonzo  Pinzon,  the  bold  navigator,  all  listening 
with  rapt  attention  to  Columbus,  or  to  the  tale  of  some  old 
seaman  of  Palos,  about  islands  seen  in  the  western  parts  of 
the  ocean. 

The  friars,  as  far  as  their  poor  means  and  scanty  knowledge 
extended,  were  disposed  to  do  every  thing  to  promote  the 
object  of  my  visit.  They  showed  us  all  parts  of  the  convent, 
which,  however,  has  little  to  boast  of,  excepting  the  historical 
associations  connected  with  it.  The  library  was  reduced  to  a 
few  volumes,  chiefly  on  ecclesiastical  subjects,  piled  promiscu 
ously  in  the  corner  of  a  vaulted  chamber,  and  covered  with 
dust.  The  chamber  itself  was  curious,  being  the  most  ancient 
part  of  the  edifice,  and  supposed  to  have  formed  part  of  a 
temple  in  the  time  of  the  Romans. 

We  ascended  to  the  roof  of  the  convent  to  enjoy  the 
extensive  prospect  it  commands.  Immediately  below  the 
promontory  on  which  it  is  situated,  runs  a  narrow  but 
tolerably  deep  river,  called  the  Domingo  Rubio,  which  empties 
itself  into  the  Tinto.  It  is  the  opinion  of  Don  Luis  Fernandez 
Pinzon,  that  the  ships  of  Columbus  were  careened  and  fitted 
out  in  this  river,  as  it  affords  better  shelter  than  the  Tinto, 
and  its  shores  are  not  so  shallow.  A  lonely  bark  of  a  fisher 
man  was  lying  in  tin's  stream,  and  not  far  off,  on  a  sandy 


APPEA'J)IX. 

point,  were  the  ruins  of  an  ancient  watchtower.  From  the 
roof  of  the  convent,  all  the  windings  of  the  Odiel  and  the 
Tinto  were  to  be  seen,  and  their  junction  into  the  main 
stream,  by  which  Columbus  sallied  forth  to  sea.  In  fact,  the 
convent  serves  as  a  landmark,  being,  from  its  lofty  and 
solitary  situation,  visible  for  a  considerable  distance  to  vessels 
coming  on  the  coast.  On  the  opposite  side  I  looked  down 
up^n  the  lonely  road,  through  the  wood  of  pine  trees,  by 
which  the  zealous  guardian  of  the  convent,  Fray  Juan  Perez, 
departed  at  midnight  on  his  mule,  when  he  sought  the  camp 
of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  in  the  Vega  of  Granada,  to  plead 
the  project  of  Columbus  before  the  queen. 

Having  finished  our  inspection  of  the  convent,  we  prepared 
to  depart,  and  were  accompanied  to  the  outward  portal  by  the 
two  fria_j.  Our  calasero  brought  his  rattling  and  ricketty 
vehicle  for  us  to  mount ;  at  sight  of  which  one  of  the  monks 
exclaimed,  with  a  smile,  "Santa  Maria!  only  to  think!  A 
calesa  before  the  gate  of  the  convent  of  La  Rabida!"  And, 
indeed,  so  solitary  and  remote  is  this  ancient  edifice,  and  so 
simple  is  the  mode  of  living  of  the  people  in  this  bye  corner  of 
Spain,  that  the  appearance  of  even  a  sorry  calesa  might  well 
cause  astonishment.  It  is  only  singular  that  in  such  a  bye- 
corner  the  scheme  of  Columbus  should  have  found  intelligent 
listeners  and  coadjutors,  after  it  had  been  discarded,  almost 
with  scoffing  and  contempt,  from  learned  universities  and 
splendid  courts. 

On  our  way  back  to  the  hacienda,  we  met  Don  Eafael,  a 
younger  son  of  Don  Juan  Fernandez,  a  fine  young  man  about 
twenty-one  years  of  age,  and  who,  his  father  informed  me, 
was  at  present  studying  French  and  mathematics.  He  was 
well  mounted  on  a  spirited  gray  horse,  and  dressed  in  the 
Andalusian  style,  with  the  little  round  hat  and  jacket.  He 
sat  his  horse  gracefully,  and  managed  him  well.  I  was 
pleased  with  the  frank  and  easy  terms  on  which  Don  Juan 
appeared  to  live  with  his  children.  This  I  was  inclined  to 
think  his  favourite  son,  as  I  understood  he  was  the  only  one 
that  partook  of  the  old  gentleman's  fondness  for  the  chase, 
and  that  accompanied  him  in  his  hunting  excursions. 

A  dinner  had  been  prepared  for  us  at  the  hacienda,  by  the 
wife  of  the  capitaz,  or  overseer,  who,  with  her  husband, 
seemed  to  be  well  pleased  with  this  visit  from  Don  Juan,  and 
to  be  confident  of  receiving  a  pleasant  answer  from  the  good- 
humoured  old  gentleman  whenever  they  addressed  him.  The 


222  &PAX1M1   VOYAGKS  OF  DISCOVERT. 

dinner  was  served  up  aloi^t  two  o'clock,  r\nd  was  a  most 
agrecabb  meal.  The  fruits  an  1  wines  were  from  the  estate, 
and  we  3  excellent;  he  last  of  the  provisions  were  from 
Moguer,  for  the  decent  vi  lage  of  Palos  is  too  poor  to 
furnish  anything.  A  gentle  breeze  from  the  sea  played 
through  the  hall,  and  tempered  the  summer  heat.  Indeed  I 
do  not  hnow  when  I  have  seen  a  more  enviable  spot  than  this 
country  retreat  of  the  Pinzons.  Its  situation  on  a  breezy  hill, 
at  no  great  distance  from  the  sea,  and  in  a  southern  climate, 
produces  a  happy  temperature,  neither  hot  in  summer  nor 
cold  in  winter.  It  commands  a  beautiful  prospect,  and  is 
surrounded  by  nataral  luxuries.  The  country  abounds  with 
game,  the  adjacent  river  affords  abundant  sport  in  fishing, 
both  by  day  and  night,  and  delightful  excursions  for  those 
fond  of  sailing.  During  the  busy  seasons  of  rural  life,  and 
especially  at  the  joyous  period  of  vintage,  the  family  pass 
some  time  here,  accompanied  by  numerous  guests,  at  which 
times,  Don  Juan  assured  me,  there  was  no  lack  of  amuse 
ments,  both  by  land  and  water. 

When  we  had  dined,  and  taken  the  siesta,  or  afternoon  nap, 
according  to  the  Spanish  custom  in  summer-time,  we  set  out 
on  our  return  to  Moguer,  visiting  the  village  of  Palos  in  the 
way.  Don  Gabriel  had  been  sent  in  advance  to  procure  the 
keys  of  the  village  church,  and  to  apprise  the  curate  of  our 
wish  to  inspect  the  archives.  The  village  consists  principally 
of  two  streets  of  low  white-washed  houses.  Many  of  the 
inhabitants  have  very  dark  complexions,  betraying  a  mixture 
of  African  blood. 

On  entering  the  village,  we  repaired  to  the  lowly  mansion 
of  the  curate.  I  had  hoped  to  find  him  some  such  personage 
as  the  curate  in  Don  Quixote,  possessed  of  shrewdness  and 
information  in  his  limited  sphere,  and  that  I  might  gain  some 
anecdotes  from  him  concerning  his  parisn,  its  worthies,  itSj 
antiquities,  and  its  historical  events.  Perhaps  I  might  have 
done  so  at  any  other  time,  but,  unfortunately,  the  curate  was 
something  of  a  sportsman,  and  had  heard  of  some  game 
among  the  neighbouring  hills.  We  met  him  just  sallying 
forth  from  his  house,  and,  I  must  confess,  his  appearance  was 
picturesque.  He  was  a  short,  broad,  sturdy  little  man,  and 
had  doffed  his  cassock  and  broad  clerical  beaver  for  a  short 
jacket  and  a  little  round  Andalusian  hat ;  he  had  his  gun  in 
hand,  and  was  on  the  point  of  mounting  a  donkey  -Qjhich  had 
been  led  forth  by  an  ancient  wtthered  handmaid,  fearful  of 


APPENDIX.  223 

being  detained  from  his  foray,  he  accosted  my  companion  the 
moment  he  came  in  sight.  "God  preserve  you,  Senor  Don 
Juan!  I  have  received  your  message,  and  have  but  one 
answer  to  make.  The  archives  have  all  been  destroyed.  We 
have  no  trace  of  any  thing  you  seek  for— nothing — nothing. 
Don  Eafael  has  the  keys  of  the  church.  You  can  examine  it 
at  your  leisure. — Adios,  caballero!"  With  these  words  the 
galliard  little  curate  mounted  his  donkey,  thumped  his  ribs 
with  the  butt  end  of  his  gun,  and  trotted  off  to  the  hills. 

In  our  way  to  the  church  we  passed  by  the  ruins  of  what 
had  once  been  a  fair  and  spacious  dwelling,  greatly  superior 
to  the  other  houses  of  the  village.  This,  Don  Juan  informed 
me,  was  an  old  family  possession,  but  since  they  had  removed 
from  Palos  it  had  fallen  to  decay  for  want  of  a  tenant.  It  was 
probably  the  family  residence  of  Martin  Alonzo  or  Vicente 
Yanez  Pinzon,  in  the  time  of  Columbus. 

We  now  arrived  at  the  church  of  St.  George,  in  the  porch  of 
which  Columbus  first  proclaimed  to  the  inhabitants  of  Palos 
the  order  of  the  sovereigns,  that  'they  should  furnish  him  with 
ships  for  his  great  voyage  of  discovery.  This  edifice  has 
lately  been  thoroughly  repaired,  and,  being  of  solid  mason- 
work,  promises  to  stand  for  ages,  a  monument  of  the  discover 
ers.  It  stands  outside  of  the  village,  on  the  brow  of  a  hill, 
looking  along  a  little  valley  toward  the  river.  The  remains  of 
a  Moorish  arch  prove  it  to  have  been  a  mosque  in  former 
times ;  just  above  it,  on  the  crest  of  the  hill,  is  the  ruin  of  a 
Moorish  castle. 

I  paused  in  the  porch  and  endeavoured  to  recall  the 
interesting  scene  that  had  taken  place  there,  when  Columbus, 
accompanied  by  the  zealous  friar,  Juan  Perez,  caused  the 
public  notary  to  read  the  royal  order  in  presence  of  the 
astonished  alcaldes,  regidors,  and  alguazils;  but  it  is  difficult 
to  conceive  the  consternation  that  must  have  been  struck  into 
so  remote  a  little  community,  by  this  sudden  apparition  of  an 
entire  stranger  among  them,  bearing  a  command  that  they 
should  put  their  persons  and  ships  at  his  disposal,  and  sail 
with  him  away  into  the  unknown  wilderness  of  the  ocean. 

The  interior  of  the  church  has  nothing  remarkable,  except 
ing  a  wooden  image  of  St.  George  vanquishing  the  Dragon, 
which  is  erected  over  the  high  altar,  and  is  the  admiration  of 
the  good  people  of  Palos,  who  bear  it  about  the  streets  in 
grand  procession  on  the  anniversary  of  the  saint.  This  group 
existed  in  the  time  of  Columbus,  and  now  flourishes  in 


224  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

renovated  youth  and  splendour,  having  been  newly  painted 
and  gilded,  and  the  countenance  of  the  saint  rendered  pecu 
liarly  blooming  and  lustrous. 

Having  finished  the  examination  of  the  church,  we  resumed 
our  seats  in  the  calesa  and  returned  to  Moguer.  One  thing 
only  remained  to  fulfil  the  object  of  my  pilgrimage.  This  was 
to  visit  the  chapel  of  the  Convent  of  Santa  Clara.  When 
Columbus  was  in  danger  of  being  lost  in  a  tempest  on  his  way 
lion-  from  his  great  voyage  of  discovery,  he  made  a  vow, 
that  should  he  be  spared,  he  would  watch  and  pray  one  whole 
night  in  this  chapel;  a  vow  which  he  doubtless  fulfilled 
immediately  after  his  arrival. 

My  kind  and  attentive  friend,  Don  Juan,  conducted  me  to 
the  convent.  It  is  the  wealthiest  in  Moguer,  and  belongs  to  a 
sisterhood  of  Franciscan  nuns.  The  chapel  is  large,  and 
ornamented  with  some  degree  of  richness,  particularly  the 
part  about  the  high  altar,  which  is  embellished  by  magnificent 
monuments  of  the  brave  family  of  the  Puerto  Carreros,  the 
ancient  lords  of  Moguer,  and  renowned  in  Moorish  warfare. 
The  alabaster  effigies  of  distinguished  warriors  of  that  house, 
and  of  their  wives  and  sisters,  lie  side  by  side,  with  folded 
hands,  on  tombs  immediately  before  the  altar,  while  others 
recline  in  deep  niches  on  either  side.  The  night  had  closed  in 
by  the  time  I  entered  the  church,  which  made  the  scene  more 
impressive.  A  few  votive  lamps  shed  a  dim  light  about  the 
interior ;  their  beams  were  feebly  reflected  by  the  gilded  work 
of  the  high  altar,  and  the  frames  of  the  surrounding  paintings, 
and  rested  upon  the  marble  figures  of  the  warriors  and  dames 
lying  in  the  monumental  repose  of  ages.  The  solemn  pile 
must  have  presented  much  the  same  appearance  when  the 
pious  discoverer  performed  his  vigil,  kneeling  before  this  very 
altar,  and  praying  and  watching  throughout  the  night,  and 
pouring  forth  heart-felt  praises  for  having  been  spared  to  ac 
complish  his  sublime  discovery. 

I  had  now  completed  the  main  purpose  of  my  journey, 
having;  visited  the  various  places  connected  with  the  story  of 
Columbus.  It  was  highly  gratifying  to  find  some  of  them  so 
little  changed,  though  so  great  a  space  of  time  had  intervened ; 
but  in  this  quiet  nook  of  Spain,  so  far  removed  from  the  main 
thoroughfares,  the  lapse  of  time  produces  but  few  violent 
revolutions.  Nothing,  however,  had  surprised  and  gratified 
me  more  than  the  continued  stability  of  the  Pinzon  family. 
On  the  morning  after  my  excursion  to  Palos,  chance  gave  me 


APPENDIX.  225 

an  opportunity  of  seeing  something  of  the  interior  of  most  of 
their  households.  Having  a  curiosity  to  visit  the  remains  of  a 
Moorish  castle,  once  the  citadel  of  Moguer,  Don  Fernandez 
undertook  to  show  me  a  tower  which  served  as  a  magazine  of 
wine  to  one  of  the  Pinzon  family.  In  seeking  for  the  key  we 
were  sent  from  house  to  house  of  nearly  the  whole  connexion. 
All  appeared  to  be  living  in  that  golden  mean  equally  removed 
from  the  wants  and  superfluities  of  life,  and  all  to  be  happily 
interwoven  by  kind  and  cordial  habits  of  intimacy.  We 
found  the  females  of  the  family  generally  seated  in  the  patios, 
or  central  courts  of  their  dwellings,  beneath  the  shade  of 
awnings  and  among  shrubs  and  flowers.  Here  the  Andalusian 
ladies  are  accustomed  to  pass  their  mornings  at  work,  sur 
rounded  by  their  handmaids,  ir.  the  primitive,  or  rather, 
oriental  style.  In  the  porches  of  some  of  the  houses  I  ob 
served  the  coat  of  arms,  granted  to  the  family  by  Charles  V., 
hung  up  like  a  picture  in  a  frame.  Over  the  door  of  Don  Luis, 
the  naval  officer,  it  was  carved  on  an  escutcheon  of  stone,  and 
coloured.  I  had  gathered  many  particulars  of  the  family  also 
from  conversation  with  Don  Juan,  and  from  the  family  legend 
lent  me  by  Don  Luis.  From  all  that  I  could  learn,  it  would 
appear  that  the  lapse  of  nearly  three  centuries  and  a  half  has 
made  but  little  change  in  the  condition  of  the  Pinzons.  From 
generation  to  generation  they  have  retained  the  same  fair 
standing  and  reputable  name  throughout  the  neighbourhood, 
filling  offices  of  public  trust  and  dignity,  and  possessing  great 
influence  over  their  fellow-citizens  by  their  good  sense  and 
good  conduct.  How  rare  is  it  to  see  such  an  instance  of 
stability  of  fortune  in  this  fluctuating  world,  and  how  truly 
honourable  is  this  hereditary  respectability,  which  has  been 
secured  by  no  titles  or  entails,  but  perpetuated  merely  by  the 
innate  worth  of  the  race!  I  declare  to  you  that  the  most 
illustrious  descents  of  mere  titled  rank  could  never  command  the 
sincere  respect  and  cordial  regard  with  which  I  contemplated 
this  staunch  and  enduring  family,  which  for  three  centuries 
and  a  half  has  stood  merely  upon  its  virtues. 

As  I  was  to  eet  off  on  my  return  to  Seville  before  two 
o'clock,  I  partook  of  a  farewell  repast  at  the  house  of  Don 
Juan,  between  twelve  and  one,  and  then  took  leave  of  his 
household  with  sincere  regret.  The  good  old  gentleman,  with 
the  courtesy,  or  rather  the  cordiality  of  a  true  Spaniard, 
accompanied  me  to  the  posada  to  see  me  off.  I  had  dispensed 
but  little  money  in  the  posada— thanks  to  the  hospitality  of 


226  SPANISH  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

the  Pinzons — yet  the  Spanish  pride  of  my  host  and  hostess 
seemed  pleased  that  I  had  preferred  their  humble  chamber, 
and  the  scanty  bed  they  had  provided  me,  to  the  spacious 
mansion  of  Don  Juan;  and  when  I  expressed  my  thanks  for 
their  kindness  and  attention,  and  regaled  mine  host  with  a 
few  choice  cigars,  the  heart  of  the  poor  man  was  overcome. 
He  seized  me  by  both  hands  and  gave  me  a  parting  bene 
diction,  and  then  ran  after  the  calasero  to  enjoin  him  to  take 
particular  care  of  me  during  my  journey. 

Taking  a  hearty  leave  of  my  excellent  friend  Don  Juan,  who 
had  been  unremitting  in  his  attentions  to  me  to  the  last 
moment,  I  now  set  off  on  my  wayfaring,  gratified  to  the 
utmost  with  my  visit,  and  full  of  kind  and  grateful  feelings 
towards  Moguer  and  its  hospitable  inhabitants. 


MANIFESTO  OF  ALONZO  DE  OJEDA. 

[The  following  curious  formula,  composed  by  learned  divines  in  Spain,  was  first 
read  aloud  by  the  friars  in  the  train  of  Alonzo  de  Ojecla  as  a  prelude  to  his 
attack  on  the  savages  of  Carthagena;  and  was  subsequently  adopted  by  the 
Spanish  discoverers  in  general,  in  their  invasions  of  the  Indian  countries.] 

I,  ALONZO  DE  OJEDA,  servant  of  the  high  and  mighty  kings 
of  Castile  and  Leon,  '  civilizers  of  barbarous  nations,  their 
messenger  and  captain,  notify  and  make  known  to  you,  in  the 
best  way  I  can,  that  God  our  Lord,  one  and  eternal,  created 
the  heavens  and  the  earth,  and  one  man  and  one  woman,  from 
whom  you,  and  we,  and  all  the  people  of  the  earth  were  and 
are  descendants,  procreated,  and  all  those  who  shall  come 
after  us;  but  the  vast  number  of  generations  which  have 
proceeded  from  t^em,  in  the  course  of  more  than  five  thous 
and  years  that  have  elapsed  since  the  creation  of  the  world, 
made  it  necessary  that  some  of  the  human  race  should  disperse 
in  one  direction  and  some  in  another,  and  that  they  should 
divide  themselves  into  many  kingdoms  and  provinces,  as  they 
could  not  sustain  and  preserve  themselves  in  one  alone.  All 
these  people  were  given  in  charge,  by  God  our  Lord,  to  one 
person,  named  St.  Peter,  who  was  thus  made  lord  and 
superior  of  all  the  people  of  the  earth,  and  head  of  fhe  whole 
human  lineage,  whom  all  should  obey,  wherever  they  might 
live,  and  whatever  might  be  their  law,  sect  or  belief ;  he  gave 


APPENDIX.  227 

him  also  the  whole  world  for  his  service  and  jurisdiction,  and 
though  he  desired  that  he  should  establish  his  chair  in  Rome, 
as  a  place  most  convenient  for  governing  the  world,  yet  he 
permitted  that  he  might  establish  his  chair  in  any  other  part 
of  the  world,  and  judge  and  govern  all  the  nations,  Christians, 
Moors,  Jews,  Gentiles,  and  whatever  other  sect  or  belief  might 
b^.  This  person  was  denominated  Pope,  that  is  to  say, 
admirable,  supreme,  father  and  guardian,  because  he  is  father 
and  governor  of  all  mankind.  This  holy  father  was  obeyed 
and  honoured  as  lord,  king,  and  superior  of  the  universe  by 
those  who  lived  in  his  time,  and,  in  like  manner,  have  been 
obeyed  and  honoured  by  all  those  who  have  been  elected  to 
the  Pontificate,  and  thus  it  has  continued  unto  the  present 
day,  and  will  continue  until  the  end  of  the  world. 

One  of  these  Pontiffs  of  whom  I  have  spoken,  as  lord  of  the 
world,  made  a  donation  of  these  islands  and  continents,  of  the 
ocean,  sea,  and  all  that  they  contain,  to  the  Catholic  kings  of 
Castile,  who  at  that  time  were  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  of 
glorious  memory,  and  to  their  successors,  our  sovereigns, 
according  to  the  tenor  of  certain  papers  drawn  up  for  the 
purpose,  (which  you  may  s:e  if  you  desire.)  Thus  his  majesty 
is  king  and  sovereign  of  these  islands  and  continents  by  virtue 
of  the  said  donation;  and  as  king  and  sovereign,  certain 
islands,  and  almost  all  to  whom  .this  has  been  notified,  have 
received  his  majesty,  and  have  obeyed  and  served  and  do 
actually  serve  him.  And,  moreover,  like  good  subjects,  and 
with  good-will,  and  without  any  resistence  or  delay,  the 
moment  they  were  informed  of  the  foregoing,  they  obeyed  all 
the  religious  men  sent  among  them  to  preach  and  teach  our 
Holy  Faith ;  and  these  of  their  free  and  cheerful  will,  without 
any  condition  or  reward,  became  Christians,,  and  continue  so 
to  be.  And  his  majesty  received  them  kindly  and  benig- 
iiaritly,  and  ordered  that  they  should  be  treated  like  his  other 
subjects  and  vassals :  you  also  are  required  and  obliged  to  do 
the  same.  Therefore,  in  the  best  manner  I  can,  I  pray  and 
entreat  you,  that  you  consider  well  what  I  have  said,  and  that 
you  take  whatever  time  is  reasonable  to  understand  and 
deliberate  upon  it,  and  that  you  recognise  the  church  for 
sovereign  and  superior  of  the  universal  world,  and  the 
supreme  Poatiff,  called  Pope,  in  her  name,  and  his  majesty  in 
his  place,  as  superior  and  sovereign  king  of  the  islands  and 
Terra  Firraa,  by  virtue  of  the  said  donation;  and  that  you 
consent  that  these  religious  fathers  declare  and  preach  to  you 


228  SPANISH   VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY. 

the  foregoing ;  and  if  you  shall  so  do,  you  will  do  well ;  and 
will  do  that  to  which  you  are  bounden  and  obliged ;  and  his 
majesty,  and  I  in  his  name,  will  receive  you  with  all  due  love 
and  charity,  and  will  leave  you,  your  wives  and  children,  free 
from  servitude,  that  you  may  freely  do  with  these  and  with 
yourselves  whatever  you  please,  and  think  proper,  as  have 
done  the  inhabitants  of  the  other  islands.  And  besides  this, 
his  majesty  will  give  you  many  privileges  and  exemptions, 
and  ^rant  you  many  favours.  If  you  do  not  do  this,  or 
wickedly  and  intentionally  delay  to  do  so,  I  certify  to  you, 
that  by  the  aid  of  God,  I  will  powerfully  invade  and  make 
war  upon  you  in  all  parts  and  modes  that  I  can,  and  will 
subdue  you  to  the  yoke  and  obedience  of  the  church  and  of 
his  majesty,  and  I  will  take  your  wives  and  children  and 
make  slaves  of  them,  and  sell  them  as  such,  and  dispose  of 
them  as  Ins  majesty  may  command;  and  I  will  take  your 
effects  and  will  do  you  all  the  harm  and  injury  in  my  power, 
as  vassals  who  will  not  obey  or  receive  their  sovereign  and 
who  resist  and  oppose  him.  And  I  protest  that  the  deaths  and 
disasters  which  may  in  this  manner  be  occasioned,  will  be  the 
fault  of  yourselves  and  not  of  his  majesty,  nor  of  me,  nor  of 
these  cavaliers  who  accompany  me.  And  of  what  I  here  tell 
you  and  require  of  you,  I  call  upon  the  notary  here  present  to 
me  nirf  signed  testimonial. 


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